Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 184 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

— ee ee 2 ae eee SE a eee <—_— = — we o > . . ee ee ee, Ve — | —— More than once did she strive to escape and hasten back to the rescue—or to die with her lover should she be unable to save him—but in vain. Hercules watched her night and day as they hurriedly fled to the far north. Great as was his devotion to her, his fidelity to the her- mit was still more powerful. On through the bitter cold until the land of the Plain Crees was reached, and there they found warm welcome in the village of grim old Kekionga. Here a new peril threatened the maiden. The Shooting Star saw her, and forgot the love vows he had already uttered in the willing ears of one who, like himself, united the blood of pale- face and red-skin. From the first the mad hermit favored the young chief, losing no opportunity of sound- ing his praises in the ears of his child, until, with a heavy pain at her heart’s core, Sibyl saw that he was determined she should wed the handsome half-breed. Little wonder, then, that her thoughts were gloomy and bitter ones as she wandered aim- lessl y spe on that cold spring morning. But she was suddenly recalled to a sense of present danger by a deep, cavernous growl, and raising her eyes, they beheld an object upon which few could have gazed unmoved. Gaunt, half-famished from its long hiberna- tion, a monstrous grizzly bear confronted her, mischief written upon every feature and glow- pata its little red eyes. he maiden was given no time for thought. The huge beast was almost within striking dis- tance before she knew aught of its presence. Mechanically and almost as by instinct, Sibyl fitted an arrow to her bow and sent the feather- oa ee - we ed shaft quivering deep into the breast of the | monster. bear was stung, and with open jaws it plunged at the plucky girl, who only escaped instant destruction by a swift leap aside. Sibyl turned quickly while preparing fora second shot, but her foot caught upon a small root, and she fell heavily upon her side. Not until then did she give vent to the cry for help that cut short the interview between the mad hermit and the Shooting Star. Not until the furious beast, blood trickling from the wound where the barbed shaft rankled, was almost upon her—and swift as they sped to the rescue, they would have been too late to even witness ve pray had not stout aid been stall nearer at and. Old Hercules was a trusty guardian, and though he kept himself unobtrusively out of the way while performing the duty set him by his master, there was no time, night or day, that he was not within sight or hearing of bis be- loved mistress. He heard the angry growl of the grizzly, and saw its first mad plunge at Sibyl. He was armed only with his club, still discolored and spotted by the life-blood of the Mountain Vul- tures, but he did not hesitate for an instant or give a single thought to the peril he himself -would be incurring. With a deep, hollow roar of anger, he bound- ed forward and confronted the huge beast, just as Sibyl fell, and the grizzly checked its baftled rush to turn upon and fend: the dainty morsel it had so unexpectedly stumbled upon. ‘* Yar’s yer meat, ye dirty, hairy, overgrowed nigger on fo’ legs!” he growled, fiercely, as his great club whistled through the air. ‘ An’ now dis yer chile reckon ye done get it, too!” The grizzly bear was so intent upon making sure of its dainty prey, that it had not noticed the negro until too late to elude the terrible blow aimed at it. The huge club alighted fair- ly upon its long skull with a crash that re- echoed through the leafless forest, and with a fierce, snarling cry, the creature rolled over and over. Knowing well his own powers, and having thrown allhis energy into the stroke, Hercules believed his blow a fatal one, and dropping his club, sprung to where Sibyl! still lay, confused and half-stunned by her heavy fall. Though dictated by his love—almost adora- tion—for her, this action bade fair to prove a fatal one. Only the quick eye and hurried speech of the Snow Sprite saved them. ‘* Look! the bear—Hercules—” Terrible as that blow had been in its crushing force, tearing the scalp almost entirely from the beast’s skull, it had not proved fatal, nor even sufficient to disable the bear. With a catlike agility, wonderful in such a mass of seemin clumsiness, the grizzly regained its feet, nd without a note of warning, plunged after the giant negro, bent on revenge. The Boy Trailers. Hercules glanced over his shoulder at the warning cry, and read the full extent of his peril at once. Swiftly he arose, a heavy stone in each hand, One—two—with all the power of his mighty arm he flung the stones, and once more the great beast measured its length upon the ground. The giant black leaped to where his club lay and grasped it witha fierce laugh. His fighting blood. was fairly up. One or the other of them must die! ’ He grasped the weapon and hurled it aloft— none too soon. The raging beast was upon him, its open ‘jaws dripping mingled froth and blood, its eyes bloodshot and blazing with fury. The struggle which followed defies analyzation. A dozen clubs and douole that number of hairy, nail-armed paws seemed blended togethey in an ever-changing tangle. Heavy blows could be heard, mingled with snaris and roars of pain. A-wild, dread struggle for life and death. Then a sharp cry parted the white, fear- blanched lips of the maiden as she saw the club of Hercules whirling through the air, several rods away from the combatants. The giant negro had been disarmed by a parrying blow of the bear’s paw. Sibyl caught up her bow, but, before she could use the weapon, the man and the beast closed ina death-grapple, both standing erect, but so rapidly shifting their positions that she dare not let the arrow loose lest she strike the wrong life. Thoroughly maddened by the protracted struggle, during which he had received more than one ugly scratch from the span-long claws that armed the paws of his hairy antagonist, Hercules made no attempt to seek safety in re- treating when he found his trusty club torn . from his grasp, but boldly met the onward rush A furious A roar told how sharply the | ee of the bear with his naked hands, confident in his enormous strength. Nor would this confi- dence been misplaced, had bruin also been dis- armed; but those terrible claws played vigor- ously in the negro’s flesh, while the long, white fangs gnashed before bis eyes. Maddened by pain and rage, the negro exerted his strength to the utmost, and overthrew the huge beast, falling upon it. But those mighty paws still held bim fast, and those long claws slit bis black skin into ribbons, while the gleam- ing teeth clashed in his face. Only fora mument. Then Hercules, like his namesake of old, grasped the parted jaws, and, with one superhuman effort, twisted them in twain! It was at this supreme moment that the hbalf- breed chief reached the spot. A single glance showed him the danger of risking a shot, and by no means unwilling to display his cool] skill before the maiden whose love he was so de- iro of winning, be darted forward, knife in and. . One swift, well-judged blow, and the deed was done. With its heart fairly cloven in twain, the grizzly relaxed its grasp and gave up the ghost. Sibyl made one impulsive step forward as though to thank the slayer, but then paused, the vivid flush fading from her cheeks as she recog- nized the young chief. A look almost of aver- sion came into her eyes,for she remembered the words breathed into her ears that morning by her father: ‘* Be kind to the Shooting Star—treat him asa maiden should treat her future husband.” At the time she had hardly heeded the words, much less understood them; but now she was wiser as she met the burning glance of the young half-breed. His eves were filled with the ight of a fiery, passionate love. He seemed to gaze upon her as one regarding his own proper- ty. The unsophisticated child of the wilderness did not read aright her sudden change of coun- tenance, but the mad hermit did, as he came hastily up. One glance showed him that Sibyl was unharmed, and every trace of emotion van- ished as by magic. ‘“My son has done well,” he said, bowing slightly to Shooting Star, then touching his arm and leading him to where the Snow Sprite stood, white and colorless. ‘‘ Sibyl, the chief has just reserved your life at the risk of meeting death 1imself. Have you no word of thanks for his gallantry?” ‘‘There is no need,” hastily interposed the half- breed, his face flushing still deeper than na- ture had tinged it, his voice softly modulated. ‘*What I did was nothing—for a smile from the lips of the White Fawn, I would face a score such clumsy beasts.” Instead of germ | Sibyl] shrunk still further away, with a hunted look in her eyes that the —- — CC Or oO mad hermit had no difficulty in rightly inter- yreting. His brows contracted. «A threaten- ing light filled his eyes. His voice was stern and even menacing as he spoke again. ‘*My child, recover your senses. You have not forgotten what I told you this morning. The chief bas spoken to me, and I have gladly given my consent. He is to be your future hus- band. Greet bim as such.” As he spoke, the hermit, whose hand still rested upon the arm of the young half-breed, gave him a gentle impulse. Obeying this, Shooting Star started toward the maiden and made as though he would clasp her in his arms, to taste the first sweets of their betrothal. A deep flush of anger suffused Sibyl’s cheeks as she evaded his embrace, plucking a sharp, slender knife from her girdle and threatening her astonished suitor. ‘‘ Back! touch me with but a finger, chief, and the point of this knife shall reach your heart!” : The young chief stared in mute amazement. To do him simple justice, be had until this mo- ment believed Sibyl loved him, or at least, that she was not at all averse to his suit. Half an Indian, reared wholly among them, while re- ceiving a tolerable education from his white mother, he was wholly guided by the rules and customs of his father’s people. e had courted the pale-face maiden, as in duty bound, through her father, and that consent once gained, he supposed the remainder would he plain sail- ing. But now his eyes were opened. The look of despairing horror upon the face of the White Fawn could not be mistaken. For reasons of his own, which will be made clear in the s quel, the mad hermit was both anx- ious and determined that this union should take place. With an angry frown he started forward, but Shooting Star caught his uplifted arm and stopped him. ‘‘Not even you shall raise a hand in anger against her in my presence,” uttered the young chief, in a stern tone, which softened strangely as he turned toward Sibyl. ‘‘ And you, White Fawn, why should you draw a weapon upon my life? If I have wronged or injured you, it must have been in my sleep, when the evil spirits were at work. See! here is my breast. Beneath it beats my heart—the heart of a chiet! Strike—if you can detect one false drop of blood—strike, and even as I die, my lips will utter your name as that of the only maiden whom I can love!” For one moment the life of the young man hung upon a thread. Sibyl knew that her fa- ther never altered his mind when once fairly set. He had avowed his purpose of wedding her to this handsome barbarian, and she knew that no entreaties of hers could change | is pur- se. One swift, desperate stroke—but then her muscles relaxed and her arm slowly sunk to ber side. A convulsive shudder agitated her frame, and she flung the gleaming steel far from her. Rapidly the words fell from ker lips: ‘*No—you are honest—noble-hearted—I can- not strike. But in pity spare me. I do not love —J cannot wed you!” With an angry curse, the mad hermit sought to check her, but was himself grasped by the chief and forcibly restrained. With a low, sokbing cry, Sibyl turned and fled rapidly from the spot, while Hercules, bleeding freely from his hurts, hastened to the aid of his master. CHAPTER III. THE INDIAN WITCH. VIOLENTLY assaulted frem behind without a sound of warning, both Dainty Lance and Hardy Zeph were overthrown before they could even think of offering resistance. The first thought that struck them was that Dirk Weenirx and his Mountain Vultures had recovered from their surprise and had retraced their steps for revenge. But this was cf brief duration. Even as it cecurred to them, they felt sharp claws that never adorned the hands of human beings, aud heard the menacing clatter of strong teeth that threatened to Luiy them- selves in their throats. And then the strange truth flashed upon them as by instinct. “They’re her wolves—don’t fight onless ye hev to!” cried Hardy Zeph ina tone of eager warning. . If Dainty Lance made any reply, It was drowned by the wild tumult which followed the sounds of the ycung trapper’s voice. Each one of the wolves—and there were fully two dozen in number, from the diminutive coyote to his giant cousin of the sable robe— com cbooks.com