Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 162 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

’ @reotion, as if by a lifting force, and the splintered wood was yet i A “Are you sure it was the deer?’’ asked Pierce. “Some of Joe Smith’s party came this way.” “ Sure!’ repeated Jerry. ‘‘I’m certain, anyhow, and that’s as good assure. ‘Tain’t possible ye don’t know that a man breaks a limb one way, and a deer another? A man’s fist pulls things down, but a deer’s borns lift them up. You kin bet yer level dollar that’s no human's handiwork. Come ahead. The scent’s gettin’ warm.” A mile further on it grew cold again. A most un- promising bit of stone intervened, over which Jerry made his way slowly and doubtfully. “T'd try the dog’s nose ag’in, only I’m *feared of his tongue,’ he remarked. but I’ll ew’ar I’ve lost the trail. Ah! yander’s what I was lookin’ fur.”’ He stepped briskly forward, to where a slight gurgling sound announced the presence of winter | water. A spring burst out at this spot from beneat the rock-bed, its waters flowing in a narrow rivulet through the forest, their course marked by a line of fresher verdure. Jerry was in a moment beside the flowing rivulet, his one sharp eye eagerly following it in its down- ward course. ¢ !’’ he cried, after a minute. ‘‘ Ye kin most ailers trust a buck’s love of a drink. Thar’s where our chap has come for water. And yander—by—”’ We will not repeat the oath that fell from his lips, as he cast a reproachful look at Nebby, who shrunk back as if he knew himself in fault. “Thar’s no use talkin’; but it’s enough to make a saint sw’ar!”’ “What is wrong now?”’ “The scary critter had his nose in this very water, when that confounded dog let out, a while ago. It’s all here in the mud. Thar’s the quick step he made when he heard the yelp. An’ here's whar he stood, with his head up, sniffin’ the air. He sprung from here. Ye kin see how his hoofs dug inter the mud. I bet high he went off like a flash of lightnin’ at that rascally brute’s yelp.” He cast another glance of reproach at Nebby as he a over the stream, and took the trail again, while Pierce was yet curiously engaged in reading ws aes indications in the muddy banks of the vulet. Meanwhile the remainder of the party, disa “egw ed in their deer hunt, and having unaccountably lost sight of the scout, had returned to the camp, a little se to growl at their ill-luck. fully expected to find their missing friend awai ng them at the tents. He was not there, how- ever. A slight sense of uneasiness at his protracted absence arose in their minds, which increased as an hour rolled by without his — in an appearance. The reported presence of Mark Preston in that vicinity gave them just cause for apprehension. “Did any of you see Joe Smith and his party?” asked Harry Waters anxiously. “He was a tall, lank, raw-boned chap, was he not?’’ asked Ben. **Exactly. You know Mark Preston. Was he with him” followers afterward, but I certainly di “ “TI tell deviltry not see ou what, s,”’ cried Harry, “there’s oot. We aad do somet . I move we you live, he is in trouble.”’ . ” exclaimed Jack Hasard. ‘And take the dogs. Their noses will be better than our eyes.” In five minutes more they had set off, in different directions, through the forest, preceded by the two dogs, Pete being left alone in charge of the camp. CHAPTER IX. THE SEARCH FOR THE MISSING MAN. Tux five men who thus started from the camp in search of Will Wildfire branched off in as many di- rections, each toward some point where the missing man might have been likely to proceed for practice with the rifle,he having taken no other weapon. The down- m route was the most \ ghcwy gee and par Waters and Ben Huntly took that course, followed by one of the dogs. Harry crossed to the west side of the creek, Pete setting him over and then rowing the boat back to the camp. Ben, with the oMer pointer, followed the eastern bank. In a minute more they had all disappeared in the deep forest, the crackle of dead leaves ath their tramping feet had ceased, and silence reigned around the deserted Canty. ** Spec’ dey t'ink I likes dis,’’ grumbled Pete, as he slowly paddled the boat back. “ Ain’t nuffin to do cept to roll "bout on de grass while dey’s out hunt- tn’. Got a mighty good mind to go a-fishin’. Don’t p’lieve nobody’ll run ‘way wid de plates an’ vittals. Hoopee! won't dar be fun ef dey come back an’ fine nn as dey’s arter Marse Will—an’ a little _ bootl He slowly fastened the boat to the bank, still cogi- tating: = Wonder ef dar ain’t no catties in dis yar creek? T's bound to fine dat out. I’s jess tired of pearch.” attraction was too strong to resist. In a few minutes Pete had provided himself with a line and a supply of bait, and was making his way along creek bank in search of a promising locality for ‘Muss git back ‘fere de boot-leather comes in,” be muttered. ‘ Dat’s a kind 0’ exercise which dis don't ’preciate.”” Pete was thus engaged in the ancient and ‘‘Here’s the soft sile; | ‘No. Smith was alone. I met a couple of his | start out on a scout for our missing friend. Sure as | a-missin! Spec’ dey’ll be arter me wid dem | er hy Ay erup de hounds. Dat’s de wuss | wy ' x . \ honorable sport of fishing, the others were scouring the woods sc uest of their missing comrade. For several miles they thus proceeded, examining ev int where the attraction of game would be likely ie ee Will Wildfire in the Woods | ; ' ; . % ‘ een nrl this tree, at a spot oot penny its smooth skin appear: ed to have been fray ‘* Jist as I jedged,”’ he exclaimed. was made by a deer’s antlers. And see here! “That scratoh Here | to have drawn him, but without finding him or any | he stopped to browse, Any old handcould tell at a _ trace of his recent presence. | Nor were the dogs nore successful than the men. | They put up abundance of quail and rabbits, and a | stray woodcock or two, but they could not be made _ to understand that larger game was now required. Ben Huntly’s dog struck the same course he had followed on the previous day. He led _ the swamp and through the thicket, stopp g, every | now and then, to point some concealed bird. | | | But Ben flushed this game without mercy, and | pushed on for the open woods below. Suddenly the dog paused, snuffed the ground eagerly for a min- ute, and then gave along, whining cry. The instinct _ of the hound was aroused in him. ith his nose to _ the he ran slowly onward, whining at intervals. _ “What in the blazes is he after?’’ queried Ben. “It must be a cold scent, or his keen nose would take it up quicker than that. Heis heading straight for the creek.”’ A few minutes brought them to the bushy borders of the stream. Ben stopped suddenly, exclaiming with angry emphasis: “Shoot me i water! lo. A blamed good nose you've got, my lad, but we don’t want follow such old issues. I hope Harry will have more luck, for Ill bet a cow I'm on the wrong side of the water.”’ He continued his search, however, following down oe narrow space between the creek and the moun- As for Harry Waters, who was searching the woods beyond the creek, he had, as yet, no greater luck, The sharp-scented dog took up more than one trail, but they were near the runways on the moun- “Don’t want to follow our own footsteps,’’ he admonished the eager brute. ‘“ Let us strike fur- ther south. Will may have gone in this direction.” | He continued onward for a mile without success, | the wood opening out as he advanced, and presenting | long, sunny vistas. | .“There’s Pierce Browning, too, among the mis- sing,’ soliloquized H ‘Row struck on Will, and if the pair of them— Hallo! ears. ; What’s up, lad? What have you struck, my earty 9 The dog was running about, with his nose to the ground, occasionally giving vent to a sharp yelp. “He has somet ing there, sure. Not a bird, either, for Will says he pointed beautifully yester- day. Come, lad; after it, my hearty!” ‘With a fresh yelp the young dog ran rly | forward, with his nose to the ground, giving all he could do to follow him. “Steady! Steady, there! Slow up, boy! slow up, you brute!”’ Whistling the animal back, and forcing him to proceed at a slower pace, rage followed his devi- | ous course, which led through the open wood, but over mere than one hill, and across more than one valley. He finall reached the beautiful green val- ley in which Will had‘caught sight of the buck anjhour or two before. It was now silent and deserted. With little thought of its beauty Harry crossed it quickly, ‘a rear of the dog, who ran up the opposite | | Instead of continuing in the course he had so far | pursued, the animal now turned and traced his way _ along the northern declivity of this hill, giving vent | to another impatient cry as he did so.” _ His yelp was echoed a moment afterward by the sharp report of a rifle and by a crashing sound, as if _ some heavy body had fallen. Harry =— eagerly forward, following the swift- running dog. Indeed, more than one meg oy had been converg- ing upon this locality, for the fugitive deer, whose wandering steps had been so closely and shrewdly followed by Jerry Prime and his apprentice in the art,of woodcraft, Pierce Browning, had, after ma any devious turns, led back toward the region w Harry Waters had just reached. We take up the thread of the still hunt again at a se in which it had become of deep interest to the wo huntsmen. They had struck a most ete piece of round, and for a full quarter of a mile Jerry had so-so ——EEEEE—— n at fault, having lost all indications of the trail. “It’s durned queer,” he cried, after a further un- a trail in con- | successful effort. ‘‘I’ve picked u not stopped at | sid’ble wuss ground than this; an ; | once nor twice neither. That chap’s been goin’ as quiet as an old cat on the track of amouse. Ef | _ put his foot down heavy I couldn’t miss it, no- how.” cae How would it do to try the dog again?” suggest- ed Pierce. | “Tt wouldn’t do fur nothin’. Thar ain't no trustin’ his tongue, ye see. Ef he were to give tongue now, that deer would go like a streak; fur if it ain’t in hearin’ then don’t buy me fur a scout.” ‘“Back, Nebby! Back, lovely!’ he continued, as the dog showed a desire to press forward. ** Back, I say, you crop-eared reprobate, or I'll bu'st yer b’iler! “Ye’re too consarned eager fur a dog as been trained like a gentleman— Aha! by the seven blessed pipers, ther’s luck fur them as waits fur it!" He sprung quickly forward as he spoke. Pierce watched him curiously. A smooth-barked beech epoca its wide boughs over the spot where they | The weodsman chesely examined the bask of wg this isn’t where the deer took to the | The dog is on its old trail. Come here, Car- | flash that a deer’s teeth cro that grass, All’s lovely me Mr. Bro . We'll be on himina Kee ul now. Kee jiffy. 1, Nebby.”’ He walked cautiously forward, with his rifle ata trail, his eye fixed keenly on the ground. “Yes, yes, yere’s the trail again, lively. D’ye see erly past | that leaf?” He showed Pierce a dead leaf, with a slight pune- ture near its point, in a curved shape. “Thar ye’ve got the p’int of the buck’s hoof pho- tygrafed, jist as plain as if it was took by one of them double-barreled likeness machines. An’ I doubt ef it’s ten minutes since he went over this ground. Steady, now, steady!” They went forward for afew paces more. Jerry was walking with a cat-like tread, which Pierce tried in vain to emulate. They were ascen a slight incline, covered by large trees, and with clumps of bushes here and there. ‘“You ain’t seen this deer yet, I s’pose?’’ said J rit in a subdued tone. +s Noe . ‘‘And don’t half b’lieve it’s here? Ye can’t swal- ler that a woodsman kin tell whar a deer has trav- eled, and whar he is, jist as sure as ef the critter — | stood afore his eyes?”’ ‘It is hard to credit,’’ acknowledged Pierce. ‘* Well, you shall see with yer own two eyes, an’ mighty soon. In ten steps more we'll top that hill, and ef we don’t see a full-horned buck on t’other | side, and in good rifle-shot, then don’t b'’lieve me ag’in, that’s Nebby, you villain! Drop that now, ef you know when yer well off.” fie shook his finger warningly at the dog, who was | growing very uneasy. tain where Jerry Prime had posted his party, and | he —_ Sport sharply from these tracting | scents. EEO I wonder if he has | | | | | | y * Don’t break a twig or a leaf,’’ whispered Jerry. “Them boots of yourn come down like pile-drivers. Now, now, keerful!”’ A step or two more and their heads overtopped the brow of the hill, Jerry held his hand back warn- ingly to the dog, and stopped his companion with a touch from the other hand. ‘** Don’t tell me!” he whispered, while an inaudible laugh marked his face. ‘‘Come up one step more. Look yander, atween the two oaks! A perfect beauty, ef I ever see’d one. Don’t talk ‘bout trailin’. D'ye twig him?” ‘ Yes,” replied Pierce, in an conte tone, as his eyes fell on the spectacle to which his experienced guide was pointing. There, near the foot of the slope, quietly grazing the green herbage on the edge of the valley, stood a stately buck, his branching antlers almost sweeping the ground as he bent to browse the rich grasses. It was doubtless the same deer, and almost at the | same spot which Will Wildfire had aimed at an hour or two terru ted. ‘* Hist! Don’t make a leaf crackle. It’s as pretty a shot as 1 ever see’d. Shill 1 drop him; or d’ye want.to try your hand?” ‘*It looks too much like murder,” rejoined Pierce, as he raised his rifle. ‘* Murder be derned!”’ was Jerry’s contemptuous’ reply. ‘ We folks, as is in the trade, git over sich sentimental idees as that. Howsomever, 1 kin easy make him lift his head, ef ye’d prefer to take him that way.”’ “TI certainly should.” “Allright. Get a good bead on him fust. Ef you = him, mind, my old rifle’s got to show her metal.” Pierce had the rifle at his shoulder, his eye on the sights, and waited tiently until Jerry should startle the deer into lifting its head: when, froma short distance to their right came the quick sharp we es a dog. e deer’s head went up like a flash, his nostrils dilated, his eyes eee oe. to right and left. “Drat that dog!’ cried Jerry. “* op He's — to jump! ead, and let rive!” Pierce had never pulled trigger on a deer before, but he was a fair rifleman, and his nerves were at this instant as steady, his sight as true, as if he had been cast in bronze. The spring of the deer and the crack of his rifle were simultaneous. Jerry had raised his weapon in readiness if Pierce should miss. But, there was no need of a second shot. The form of the bounding animal seemed to suddenly collapse, the stately head drooped, the legs stiffened out, The force of the leap carried him twenty feet through the air, when he came down with a crash- im a foot over his = thud, wy meg J or the points of his antlers, and . rolli ie , ng over in a headlong summerset. ‘Don’t want no extra bullet thar,’’ remarked © ‘Never see’d a purtier | Jerry, lowering his rifle. shot, for a greenhorn.” “All chance,” replied Pierce, as he looked with some pride on the lifeless figure of the animal. “TI couldn't do it again.” “Don’t know ‘bout that. Chance don't give nerve and eyesight.—But whar’s that blamed dog?” A noise in the bushes answered him. Nebby started forward growling, and showing his white teeth. His master followed. “ Mought as well see what it all means.” A dozen paces took them out of the bushes, into a little opening, into which Harry Waters and his dog emerged at the same time. But neither party went further, for there in the center of this opening, lay the lifeless form of Will Wildfire, his face the hue of death, while the blood slowly oozed from a spot near his temple, / ,JOO Eomiuc KS fore, when his shot had been so fatally in- . (G(O} ee =