Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 207 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. Navajo Nick, THE BOY GOLD HUNTER; OR, The Three Pards of the Basaltic Buttes. A TALE OF ARIZONA. BY T. C. HARBAUGH, AUTHOR CF ‘‘ NICK Oo’ THE NIGHT,” ‘‘ HIDDEN LODGE,” ‘‘ NIGHTINGALE NAT,” ‘‘ DANDY JACK,” ‘‘ KIT HAREFOOT,” *‘ MIDNIGHT JACK,” ‘*KIOWAY CHARLEY,” *‘ OLD FROSTY,” ‘‘GOLD TRIGGER,” ‘* TORNADO TOM,” ‘* NED TEMPLE,” ETC. CHAPTER I. SOMEBODY’S SPY. ‘‘T’ comfortable here if I am alone. Their prophecies thus far have proved useless words, and if Black Mahomet keeps up his good gallop a faw days longer, I'll ride safely into Mohave City none the worse for my long tramp. My own mother wouldn’t recognize me coated with alkali dust as Iam, but then, she isn’t likely to visit me in the wilds of Arizona. Well, I should think not.” The speaker, a youth, smiled at bis last re- marks, and fell to surveying his travel-stained erson revealed by the camp-fire which he had Kindled in the basin of what once had beena tributary of the Colorado. Above him towered the banks of the name- less canyon; they seemed to stretch tothe stars, hard stone walls unrelieved by a single cliff * plant. a The cool night winds blew down the gorge and flared the flames of his fire. He wasa stout, handsome youth of sixteen or seventeen, and his jaunty buckskin garments which had been made by experienced hands fitted his faultless figure toa nicety. A rifle lay on the ground at his side, and ready for in- stant use in his belt were two heavy revolvers, traveled-stained like their possessor. Black Mahomet, a lithe limbed charger, with coal black skin and a fiery eye, was also reveal- ed by the fire. The horse was the boy’s only companion, and that the two were close friends, tie whinny given by the animal when his name was spoken attested. But, what was the boy doing alone in the In- dian country of Northern Arizona? We have already heard him say that in a few days he expected to reach Mohave City which was far west of his solitary fire. The Navajo country was behind him, but ahead, between him and his goal was a veritable land of death, oe abode of the red savage and the black griz- y- A heart that shrunk from danger had no busi- ness where the young traveler was. Only the fearless could build a fire on the bed of the lost river, and laugh while contemplating his alkali- coated garments. The boy’s laugh was full of hope, good nature and buoyant spirits, and while it yet sounded on the pleasant air of night, the horse thrust his head over his master’s shoulder and looked askance into his face. ‘““Two better friends never traveled together than you and I, Mahomet!” said the boy notic- ing this display of affection on the part of his steed; *‘ one of these days, if my lead pans out as it ought to,-V’ll be rich enough to feed you gilded oats, and build you a palace for your abode. But all leads don’t pan out rich in Arizona. I’ve been a witness to the truth of that statement, and so have you, old chap. Nine out of ten prove to be chimneys. We'll hope, however, that ours may prove a bonanza, and it will ’'m thinking if I’m following the right skein.” Ihe boy paused rather suddenly for the horse had raised his head with his long sharp ears on the alert like a fox’s. ‘* What is it, Mahomet? A prowling grizzty or a thieving coyote?” asked the youth, picking | the rifle and stepping back into the shadow of a bowlder on which he had deposited the small amount of baggage he was carrying on his jour- ney. A moment later he became convinced that it was neither, for a rough voice assailed his lis- tening ears: ‘‘ Hello thar, stranger? Ef ye’1’ standin’ in the shadders whar I can’t see ye, you've got the advantage ov one ov the lost arts. [’m parfect- es --- —— — — -_---— —— p harmless, ez docile ez a kitten, an’ it stands a eller in hand to be kinder indulgent to his species in this part ov creation.” There was certainly nothing in this quaint and comical language that proclaimed the pres- ence of an enemy, and the boy stepped partly into the fire-light. But he kept his finger at the trigger of his rifle. **Come forward until I can see you,” he said to the unseen. ‘* You may be the harmless in- dividual you call yourself, but I’m not taking any chances.” ‘*Thet’s right; you ought to hev a leather medal fer yer prudence,” responded the voice a little nearer than before. ‘‘So hyar I come, not exactly a conquerin’ hero, nor aseraph ov light; but one ov the lost arts.” The young traveler, still further emboldened by the last words, approached nearer to his fire, and fixed his eyes on the queer character sub- mitted to his inspection. ‘This person was tall, raw-boned, swarthy and uncouth. His sleeves seemed a mile too short and the wrists that their shortness revealed were the color of a mummy’s skin. His torn pantaloons were thrust into a pair of well-worn cowhide boots, several tufts of reddish hair protruded from rents in a dilapidated hat, and his face was cov- ered with a few days’ growth of sandy beard. But above his cheeks a pair of eyes glittered like the orbs of a basilisk; they were restless, penetrating and cunning. The stranger was no fool, at any rate. So thought the boy. His only weapon was a long-barreled rifle which rested in the hollow of his left arm as he came forward. The boy seeing this removed his finger from the trigger of his weapon and a two stood face to face in the light of his re. > ‘“A boy, by hokey!” ejaculated the lank man half contemptuously, and he stepped back to survey his new acquaintance. , ad did expect to seea man, ’pon my soul I id! ‘**BSo did 1!” retorted the boy, a merry flash in his bright eyes. ‘* What do you call yourself?” ‘‘Me? I’m one ov the lost arts. Thar’s no sage-brush about me! I’m the Boss Cactus ov Arizona, When I say thet I’m one ov the lost arts, I mean thet the soil thet produced me hezn’t grown a thing since I left it. Look at me, boy. I’m handsome enough to be Cupid, an’ travel-stained enough to be one ov_ the lost tribes ov Izra’l: but I’'d ruther be the Boss Cac- tus than the hull compoodle I’ve mentioned.” The figure before the boy seemed to increase in stature as the speaker finished, and the young traveler gazed at him in silence for a minute. ‘‘ Whar ar’ you steerin’ fur?’ the Cactus asked, suddenly. The boy hesitated; the glittering eyes noticed . ae ‘‘ Ef you don’t want to tell, all right!” their owner said. ‘‘T’m going to Mohave City!” the boy said, deciding at that moment. Did the little eyes sparkle with more in- tensity ? ‘“Mohave, eh? War goin’ thar myself,” ejaculated the Cactus. ‘‘No ’bjection to com- pany, 1 hope?’ ‘** Are you alone?” for the first time the new-comer smiled. ‘ Ruther!” he answered, laconically, and then added: ‘The Boss Cactus ginerally trav- els in his own company. In fact, he thinks it the best he kin find in Arizona, Goin’ to Mohave on business?” ry Perhaps.” sé I am.’ The boy gave the Cactus an inquisitive glance. He seemed to think: what kind of business could induce that queer specimen of humanity to seek a community supposed to be civilized? Without invitation the Cactus had seated himself on the stone which the youthful adven- turer had rolled to'the fire for a seat, and the boy, with a grimace at this independence, ac- oe a place on the ground. y degrees the twain thus strangely met became better acquainted. The stories which the Cactus spun about the wild country in which they were gradually drew the boy out, and he said that he was a late resident of a Navajo camp, where he was known as Navajo Nick. This information seemed to settle a few doubts that had lingered in the new-comer’s mind, and from that moment his tongue be- came less cy Navajo Nick gradually formed a favorable impression of his guest, despite the latter’s un- couthness, and the provisions which he was ——_«_ —— — about to attack when he appeared, he no longer hesitated to share with him. But before the Cactus accepted the invitation to supper, he started up, and glancing at the boy, exclaimed: ‘* War it the leap ov a coyote, boy?” Nick confessed that he bad heard nothing. ‘* Webbe I didn’t either,” responded the man. ‘‘ But, stay hyar till I investigate,” and beforo the boy could remonstrate he darted down tho canyon. **T didn’t hear a sound,” mused our traveler. ‘¢ Neither did Black Mahomet, and _ his ears aro as sharp as that man’s. A coyotealways rouses my horse; he hears everything. Now look at 1m.” @ Navajo Nick spoke as if he addressed a second person when in reality he was talking to him- self. The horse had not heard the sound which had disturbed the Boss Cactus; he stood with drooping head just beyond the line cf light, and apparently asleep. After a minute’s reflection the boy followed the Cactus. He seemed very inquisitive if not suspicious, for he carried a cocked revolver in his hand as he crept along the canyon’s wall. He soon got beyond the light of his camp-fire, and the only light now afforded was that which came down from the stars overhead. It was not suflicient to enable him to distin- ruish objects at a great distance; but it showed im the figure of his strange guest_about thirty feet away. The man had not seen him, for he was taking something that made a strange noise from his bosom. Navajo Nick held his breath. A moment later the Cactus held a pigeon in his hand, and the boy saw that he was fasten- ing something that glittered like polished tin around the bird’s neck. ‘‘T have enemies!” muttered Navajo Nick. ‘* He is sending a message to them; the pigeon will tell them that he has found me. old rascal! I must outwit you!” At that moment the bird left the man’s hand, and after fluttering afew seconds above his head shot upward and seemed to disappear among the stars. The boy’s eyes flashed while he saw the Cac- tus watching the flight of his messenger. ‘*T ought to end your part of the game here,” fell from bislips. ‘‘ But no! I will watch you till I find out who my enemies are and then— then— Ah! I guess Navajo Nick is able to take care of himself!” The boy glided back to the fire as noiselessly as he had come to the spot, and had composed himself, when the Cactus returned. ** Well?” ‘It war a prowlin’ coyote jest ez I expected. My ears never fail me. I kin hear a snake crawl,” Nick’s eyes glittered with triumph. “Your ears deceived you to-night, traitor. You did not hear me.”’ The Cactus resumed his seat at the fire while his eyes twinkled with satisfaction. Navajo Nick secretly watched him until he stretchec his ungainly figwre on the ground and fell asleep. The boy pretended to follow his example, but he gradually rolled from the fire and reached his horse, ‘* Mohave City first!” he muttered. ‘I mus’ take no chances now with the man who sends carrier pigeons to my enemies, Once in Mc- have, I can defy them all.” He noiselessly muffled Black Mahomet’s feet aee saddled him. The Cactus still lay at tho @, ‘* Good-by, plotter!” the boy threw over his shoulder at the sleeper as he put his hand on tho saddle to mount, The next moment he was startled by a rough voice. ‘Goin’ away, eh?” He looked toward the fire, and saw the Cactus wide awake, with his little eyes fixed cn him! ‘Yes, ’m going away. Stuy back or die!” exclaimed the boy, vaulting into the saddle. The Boss Cactus merely laughed. CHAPTER U. FOLLOWED BY A HORSE, Near the close of a certain day exactly one week after the events just described a coal-black horse galloped into Mohave City. Several Indian arrows were sticking in the animal’s flesh, and the rider that reeled in his saddle had cre of the shefts in his shoulder. The horse was stopped | y a crowd of bronzed Colm Ah! you . ,OOKS GoM