Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 222 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

LB - Grit rit, the Bravo | Sport THE WOMAN TRAILER. A Sequel to “Bison Bill, the Prince of the Reins,” anda Romance of the Wild West, ee es PY COL, PRENTISS INGRAHAM, AUTHOR OF ‘*THE SEA DEVIL,” ‘‘ DICK DEAD- EYE,” ‘THE BOY DUELIST,” “ LITTLE GRIT,” “ GOLD BLUME,” ETC, CHAPTER I. LOST. ‘“(Ou, God, have mercy! Iam lost on these wild, desolate plains! No help near, no human being in sight; and yet dreading to see a hu- man being, for fear it may be a red-skin. Night coming on, poor Bonnyfoot utterly worn down, and not one ray of hope. ‘“ Heaven have mercy upon me!” A wail followed the pleading prayer, and the head drooped forward and was buried in the hands, which rested upon her knee, for the speaker was on horseback. A young girl of surpassing beauty, just about to cross the threshold of womanhood, with a supple form, graceful and elegant, sat on her tired horse, gazing wistfully around upon the solitude of the vast prairies. For miles in every direction the boundless plains stretched away, the borizon broken only at one point, where a growth of timber marked a prairie island, or motte. jn the west the sun was sinking to rest, and ere long darkness would come upon the face of the earth. No, not total darkness, for the moon, a few days old, rode in the heavens to give light for a while. Yet what good would its silvery light be to her? None, as all day long she had ridden on and on, striving in vain to find her way back to her home. With the sunrise she had left her father’s ranch, mounted on the fleet Bonnyfoot, for a gallop over the prairie, and, intoxicated by the fresh air of the prairies, the balmy per- fume of the flowers, and the sight of a deer bounding from the grass before her, she, had on chase, and far away had the animal led r Warned never to go out of sight of the ranch, biiterly she regretted her thoughtless- ness when she saw that she had disobeyed the wise injunction. | A few weeks only out of boarding-school in the East, from whence her father had come to find a home in Texas, she had not beeome ac- customed to prairie life, or learned the craft of the border girl, though under the teachings of her pareyt, who had been two years in his ranch before sending for his daughter, she was rapidly becoming proficient in the use of fire- arms, and was already a superb horsewoman. Yet, after an all- day’s travel upon the prairies, looking in vain for the white walls of the ranch, her horse was utterly worn out, and her little revolver, in the belt around her waist, sh3 knew would be but poor protection against a foe, be it human-or wild beast. And then Edith Balrour sat on her horse, alone in the prairie, watching the sun go down with an expression of awe upon her face, At last it sunk beyond the horizon, and with its going the prairie insects began their chirp- ing, and the distant, long-drawn howl of a wolf, told her that night, with its solitude and horrers was befere her, Then agaim from ber lips broke tbe cry: ‘Heaven have mercy upexn me!” CHAPTER II. RUN DOWN. Wirta the long-drawn-eut howl of the prowl- ing woif, which showed too well that he was on the scent for food, wheiher human or brute he cared not, Bonnyfoct pricked up his ears Grit, the Bravo Sport. —_ — — --——— | and raised his tired head in an attitude of lis- tening. aS oe — i. ae. He could not last much longer, for each bound grew weaker, and each moment his pace For a moment only the chirping of act | became slower. prairie insects were heard, and seeing the act | of ber horse, Edith Balfour said quickly: ~ ‘‘ What is it, Bonnyfoot?” A low neigh, just loud enough to be heard by his mistress was the response. But it gave the maiden hope, and shé said eagerly: ‘‘ What! are there friends near, Bonny foot?” Again a low neigh, and aslight tremor of the animal. ** No, no, they are foes, for you seem to dread danger, and your instinct gives you warning,” and Edith glanced nerveusly around her in the gathering gloom, the fading of day- light into moonlight. And, as she looked, again on her ears_ broke that dismal howl, and its notes caused her horse to start and tremble violently. Then, afar off came a faint, answering cr ry from a companion of the savage brute, that could not be far away, hidden in the prairie grass, The horse heard this whining answer of the wolf’s mate, and at once he was all attention, the fatigue Seemed to drop from bim, his head was raised, and he breathed hard. Again came the howl, and then the reply, and another, and then another, until half a dozen yelps were heard off on the plains. ‘‘Oh Heaven! the pack are collecting, called by the signal of that one brute. ** What shall I do? what shall I do?’ This question Bonnyfoot at once answered, for, with a wild snort he dashed away, nearly unseating the maiden from the saddle, for she had not expected such a movement upon the part of her worn-out horse, which word and whip had not been able to urge along an hour before. Away over the prairie he sped, fright add- ing wings to his flying hoofs, And, hearing that wild snort of fright, those falling hoof-strokes, the wolf’s howl became a yelp of joy, and far and wide came answering yelps, until fully a score of savage beasts were on the trail of poor Bonnyfoot. Had Edith Balfour only known then what to do, she could have halted her running horse, and ridden calmly baek, and sent the flerce pack flying from her path, — But once in flight, and not on the chase, they would not be beaten off as long as there was one atom of fear shown on the part of horse or rider. And on the tired Bonnyfoot flew, straining hard, until it seemed to Edith that nothing could catch him in his mad flight. Yet whither was be going? Ha! a sudden thought struck her. She had guided him all day, frequently against his will. Perhaps she had forced him from home, in- stead of toward it, as she had hoped and be- lieved. She would now give him free rein, and. per- haps his animal instinct would take him there. Otherwise she was lost. She threw the rein upon his neck, and on like. the wind he went. And gn, tireless, and as fleet came the yelp- ing pack at his back. Nearer they drew, until Edith could see their dark forms net very far behind her. The sight breught such a gripe of misery upon her heart, that she nearly lest conscious- ness and fell from her saddle. But with a mighty effort she controlled her- self, and then, as the welves seemed gaining, laid the lash upon her horse. Yet nearer they came. What could it mean? At last a groam of anguish, as theugh wrung from mortal, came frem her straining herse. “Good God! Bonny foot is tailing me again!” This knowledge again nearly everpowered her, yet once more she r ; But she knew that her noble herse must seon succumb, One longing, wild glance she cast around her over the moonlit prairie, and yet saw no ob- ject, no being in sight from whence to look for aid. Then her lips became firm set, her face grew white but resolute, and she muttered: **T shall end this misery, this suspense and anguish. It must be, so let it benow. Goon, good, noble Bonnyfoot, and perhaps you may escape without me. Oh, God! would that other death than this were before me, and forgive me my act.” She quickly drew Bonnyfoot to a slower pace, gathered ber skirts about her, aud sprung to the ground, at the same time giving Benny- foot a blow that sent him bounding on. Then she turned and faced her danger, and gazed upon the coming, yelping pack, fierce with the joy of having run down their victim, Sbe saw them, not fifty paces away, and drawing her revolver she placed it firmly against her temple, the small forefinger upon the trigger. ‘God forgive me! but not that death, torn by those cruel fangs, no not that!’’ she said, Then, with a long drawn sigh, she glanced around her, and the flash and crack of a pistol followed. CHAPTER Ili. THE STRANGER. So sudden and unexpected was the crack of the pistol that it saved the life of Edith Balfour, whose start raised the muzzle ef her own wea- pon, causing her to fire it just over her head. But ere she could divine from whence had come the shot, she saw bound past her a tall form, and rapidly and unerringly his revolvers rattled upon the pack of wolves as they dashed up, eager to feast on human food. But she heard only the first few shots, as the sudden change from despair to hope caused her brain to reel, the bloed to rush in torrents to her heart, and down upon the prairie grass she sunk in a sweon. Thus unconscious, she saw not ‘the tall form heldly meet the danger, and drop with his un- erring aim one by one the wolves that came fiercely om to meet death instead of a feast. At last the pack, meeting a fearless foe in- stead of a helpless victim, skurried away over the prairie, with yelps of savage hate and dis- appointment. Turning, the man went to the prostrate form and bent over her. ‘*My God! what a beauty! But she may be dead after all. No, there is no wound upon her pretty head, and it was against her temple the pistol rested. Ah! she has fainted, fcr her pulse still beats.” He placed her in a more comfortable posi- tion, and then gave a low whistle. Instantly, out of the tall grass, not twenty paces distant, sprung a steed, from where he had been lying prostrate. Trotting up to his master’s side the faithful animal halted, and from a saddle-pocket the horsemax took a flask of liquor. A few drops peured in between the lips, a chafing of the hands, and Edith Balfour opened her beautiful eyes to behold bending over her ome whem to her dying day, she never drove from her memory. And that beautiful, dark, Gipsy-like face, with its full, red lips, intense eyes, and ex- quisite complexien, the stranger never forgot through life. Edith saw a tall form, with slender waist, broad shoulders, and a face that was beard- less, youthful, for he seemed scarcely more than twenty-one years of ago, and dark blue, fearless eyes, a resolute meuth, and a general ceutour that imade up a very dashing, hand- some man. His face was bronzed, his hair golden, and wern in waving masses upon his shoulders, while his attire was a black velvet jacket, coming to his waist, buckskin leggins, fringed | JOO <€oim (E cS ) ‘6 | : . o- - ee eee Sea ee a ee eee