Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 278 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

14 mm 0 eee animals would have detected them in a moment if they had come up on the other side. The distance from the woods to the game was not more than a hundred yards, and Jules prepared to fire. As he dropped on one knee and laid his rifle across a low limb, the leading moose raised his stately head and looked about him, as if scenting danger. Jan had followed the example of the Frenchman, and his roer was lying across a branch, pointed at the sec- ond of the two animals. As the moose looked up both pieces exploded. To the utter surprise o Jules, the one he fired at bounded away unhurt, while Jan's dropped upon the ground, staining it with his flowing life-blood Jan ran hastily toward the wouuded beast, while Jules watched him with a malevolent eye. He knew the danger into which the honest Dutchman ran in approaching a wounded moose, but did not warn him. A bundred feet from the body of the game Jan's feet suddenly sunk be- neath him, and he felt as if an iron hand had seized his ankles and held him down. ‘*Coom here, Shules.’’ he shouted. “I pe got in der mut. Coom here unt help me out!” Jules walked slowly to the end of the quagmire, about ten feet from the imprisoned Dutchman, All the evil in the man’s heart showed itself at that moment, All that was bad, all that was cruel, im- printed deep lines on his face, which gleamed sav- agely in the sun-rays, “You are in trouble, friend Jan?” he said coolly. **Help me out!”’ cried Jan. “Keep quiet,’’ said Jules. ‘“‘Do you remember the day out yonder on the prairie, when you threw me down and planted your elephant foot upon my breast? Ah, I see you have not forgotten. You re- member it with pleasure. I have not forgotten it either, and I swore, sooner or later, to have my re- Re hi You aided that girl against me, and for ¢/Aat I'll be doubly revenged.’ “I’m sinkin’ deeper all de dimes!’’ cried Jan. **Coom, Shules, pe a goot veller unt help me out. Vat’s the use of voolin’? I bunch your heat ven I does get out, off ye leave me here any more.” © ole you don’t know where you are?” said Jules. “Then I will tell you. There are places in these hills which we call quicksands. A man falls into one, and from that moment, unless help is near, he is doomed. Even his struggles tell against him, Deeper and deeper he sinks in the slimy sand. The iron hands upon his ankles drag him down every moment. He sinks to his knees in the slime. He throws himself down. That is useless and will hasten his death. He struggles up again. He sinks to his thighs." “Mein Cott!" moaned Jan. ** ‘You begin to comprehend. : You see now what my revenge will be. You have sunk to your knees. The effo you make to pull up one leg sink the other deeper. Your ponderous weight sinks you very fast. By and by you will be up to your neck, then your mouth willl be covered; and when you be- gin to choke, I will sit by and laugh.”’ Jan was sinking slowly, his face turned toward his executioner, who sat grimly down by the side of the quicksand, and waited for the end, The Dutch- man made no effort to break down his stubborn re- solve. A single glance at his set face was enough to show that all entreaties would be useless. In that hour when the true spirit of man comes to the sur- f it was plain that Jan’s fears were rather the result of a life fraught with little danger, than cow- ardice; and if he failed to look danger bravely in the face at first, it was because it came to him ina A i mms we fe a“ ~ sy ney. and eet mov was in saying the prayers he heard | in faderiand, and which he bad learned at his old mother’s knee. The cold quicksand had riseu above his thighs, and yet Jan seemed unmoved. Such calmness exaspera his enemy. He’had ex- d to hear the Dutchman cry aloud for mercy; him to help him; to humble himself for pity; but Jan did not think of that. His face was e, but there was a kind of smile uponit. — " for mercy!’ shouted Jules, tauntingly. r for your life!” “No, Shules; off you have any pity in your heart, unt care enough for me to forget vat I did, unt save me, I vould pe glad. PutI don’t ask any t’ings ou ” from you. “You will die like a dog.” “Never,” replied Jan. “ Like a man whose fader died in battle vor te sake of his dear faderland. Sit py untsee me tie. It vill pe a man’s deat’!"’ Jules assailed him with a storm of vituperation, to which Jan made no answer. b At this moment there came a t shout of sur- and anger, and they saw Ben Miffin running ward them at full speed with a hatchet in his hand. Jules caught up his rifle and began to load it , but Ben was too quick for him, and he club- weapon and stood upon his guard. But his defense was vain against the wiry old trapper, who broke down his guard and prostrated him by a blow on the head, Before a minute had passed, his arms were buckled behind him by means of a belt, and his legs served in the same way. Peay Penn, quick!’ shouted Jan. “Keep cool, my boy! I'll save of) yit,” cried Ben. **‘ Keep yer arms clear of the mud." He w ed for his horse, which he had tied in the . Aloud neigh answered him, and directly the Reard the sound of hoofs. Diamond had broken his lariat and was coming at full speed. Catching sight of his master, he bounded to his side. Ben took the broken lariat from the saddle-bow and formed a slip-noose, which he threw to Jan. Put that under yer arms an’ draw it taut,’ said Jan obeyed. By this time Jules had recovered (Le — mmm mmm The Three Trappe a owe ie eS a —o_ad keeping the wind in their faces, for the keen-scented | from the effects of the blow, and lay watching their movements anxiously. When the noose was under Jan’s arms, Ben instructed him how to pass a stick through it, so that it would not draw too tightly around his body. The loose end of the lariat he fastened to the saddle-bow. The horse stood quietly waiting, as if he comprehended fully what was ex- pected of him. ‘Be ready, Jan,’ said the trapper, ‘‘an’ if the ween is too much, sing out. Now then, Diamond, The horse did not jerk, but pulled steadily. Jan set his teeth, for the strain was fearful, For a mo- ment he was stationary, then he felt his body rise a little from the clinging sand. ‘*That started ye,’ said Ben, joyfully. ‘‘ Whoa, Diamond. Can ye stand it?” ? Fay, pani pull away,’’ cried Jan, in an eager tone, ‘'1 shtands any t’ings so dat I gits out vrom dis blace.”’ ‘**Pull, Diamond,” said Ben. The horse drew away on the lariat, and to the in- tense joy of both, the body of the Dutchman was pur high up onthe hard ground. Fora moment an lay panting, and the next he sprung up and grasped the mapper by both hands. “Mank you, Penn. Idon’t say much, but I di-ks reat deal. 1nefer forgets vile I lifs.”’ ’ =<: anal said Ben, ‘* Thank the hoss; hedid the work.”’ The intelligent animal turned his head to look at them, as if conscious that fhey were talking of him, and bent forward that he mig! t receive the caresses which Jan showered upon him. For awhile they thought nothing of the man who lay at their feet, until Jan's ore fell upon him as he lay there, his black eyes twinkling with rage and apprehension. **Dere he lies, dat villains!’’ said Jan. ‘“‘He gets me in der mut, unt den he von’t help me out,”’ ‘‘I was jubous he’d do prdeotigge 3 of the kind,”’ said Ben. ‘I wa’n’t fur away. et’s what I let a him go with ye fur, jest totry him. I'm sorry I did itnow. Ain’t he a sweet specimen for a human?” He stooped and loosened the strap on the legs of the Frenchman. “Git up!’ he said. Jules Damand rose slowly, with his eyes contin- ually fixed upon the earth ‘** Vice kind of man, ain’t ye?’’ said Ben, ‘‘ What ye got to say fer yerself?”’ ** Nothing,’’ replied Jules, ** Nothing?”’ ‘‘Net a word. Do with me as you choose, If you had staid away ten minutes longer, the work would have been complete.”’ ‘*Ye cold-blooded scoundrel! I’m sorry I ever broke bread with the like of ye. A mean-sperited skunk! I'd sarve ye right ef I sent a bullet through yer skull. Wouldn’tI now?” ** Do it, then.” ‘“T leave it with Jan, Ef he says kill ye, why, er no better than a dead man, e owe yer life to im, an’ ef he chooses to take it, thar’s no law among free trappers to save ye. Anyway, I won't help e. Jan! ‘ ell?’’ **Hyar's a pistol. It’s loaded with a ball. This skunk ain't fit to live. tl ig! law will b’ar ye out = apogee him through the head. He is yer ands.”’ Jan took the pistol, cocked it, and placed it close to the head of the Frenchman. A deathlike still- ness reigned in the place. Theface of Jules was utterly colorless, but he did not speak a word. He knew that his life was forfeited by the stern laws of the trappers, and that nothing could save him, if the man whose life he had placed in such deadly peril chose to claim that forfeit, But his proud spirit would not parr him to speak a word. He looked straight into the muzzle of the threatening weapon, his lips white as ashes, *Fire!’’ he ins ancy at length. n Jan drop his hand. | ** Remember that this is the second time he has nearly killed ye,” said Ben, “He cut the raft loose her day.”’ cried Jan, replied Damand, “I did that. Fire away. Again Jan raised the wea and again that deathlike silence fell upon the scene. But Jan could not do it. ch an act was not in his nature, He uncocked the weapon and handed it back to Ben. “IT can’t do it,” he said. “He nearly kills me, deux, swi dimes, put I nefer kills a man mit his hands tied. Let him go,”’ ** Walk before us,’’ said Ben, sternly. ‘“ Don’t try to escape. 4 — obeyed sullenly, although glad of any re- are Holt on,’ said Jan. ‘‘Dere ish my moose vat I ‘* We ain’t got time to ’tend to him now. Lead my hoss. I want to watch this bea) SM They went back to the horses Jules was Rue upon his own and his feet bound with a lariat. Jan rode in front, Ben brought the rear, with his pistol ready, in case the fellow tried toget away. He made no such attempt. In this order oer reached the camp. Here Ben tied the horse of the Frenchman to a tree and opened the cache. The beaver-skins they had taken were bound up in bundles of twenty each, Ben laid them out in three equal piles, When this was done he untied Jules and made him dis- mount. Millicent and Bentley looked on in silence. * Ar’ them divided /fa’r ?” said Ben. * Yes,”’ said Jules. “Then take either pile ye like and *T don’t want them,” said Jules. 9 T Give me my horse and gun and let me go.”’ —_— -— —_ + -- e - e —E ——— | “Do just ez ye chose. Thar they ar’. Ef ye don’t want ‘em, it’s all right. We kin. find a use for em,”’ ‘I won’t take the skins.”’ ‘Allright. Thar’s Ph hoss an’ thar’s yer gun, Take them an’ ¢i/, and mind, ef ye<iurn up us ye’r’ adead man, I lets ye gonow because none here wants yer life or yer company, but ye’r’ a dead manef ye ever crosses my track. I have spoken— so be off with you!” Jules obeyed. Without a word he rode away and the hills soon hid him from their sight. CHAPTER. XII. THROUGH THE SNARE. Tue three men began to complete their raft, work- ing with all their power. In a few hours the work was done, and they were ready to go down the river at a moment’s warning. Then Ben set to work upon another cache for his skins, which it would be im- ssible to take with him. He chose a place within he canyon through which the river ran, and here he laid the skins, is brow was sad. The old man had been deceived in regard to a comrade, and he was grieved. ‘*Do not grieve for a bad man,”’ said the girl, ob- serving his sadness. ‘‘He is not worth a single pang.’ “True endugh, gal, An’ yit, I thought the lada true one. I did indeed. But, let him go; the time will come when he'll be sorry in his heart fer what he’s done.”’ When all was ready, they pushed the raft down to the very mouth of the canyon and there embarked. The horses were abandoned. Ben took his station in front of the raft. Bentley and Jan took the sides, each armed with a long pole. Millicent crouched in the center, beside the pile of provisions which the forethought of the trappar had induced him to ring. A perilous path lay before them, The stream ran dark and swift between huge bowlders of gray rock rearing their heads in the air. Without the skill of Trapper Ben their lives were not worth a moment’s purchase. At first they were in the power of the ‘suck,’’ which drew them ro toward the other bank, and threatened to dash them on the place where the other raft was beaten to pieces. But the uick eye of Ben saw the peril and avertedit. As the raft dashed down upon the wall a skillful push of the long pole sent it whirling down the stream, while the other men stood aghast, and Millicent also covered her face with her hands, When she looked up, the present peril was over and they were dashing down the dark channel at a breakneck speed. There was a wild, triumphant look in the eyes of the old hunter, as he guided the raft on its course. “Hurray, boys; now we a7’ goin’,”’ he shouted. “Don't be skeered, little gal. Ill take ye safe through, or bu'st things a-trying. Durn a French- man. Does he think he kin overreach me? Hey! look out fer that rock, Bentley. That's right. You'd make a good raftsman in time. Look sharp, Jan, That’s arock loomin’ up on your side, Give itasly tap. That’sit. Welldone. Ef we onc’t git on the level, it will be all right. I’ve got an idee, Stand steady, boys. The wust timeiscomin’. You kain’t help me much, Bentley, go astern and when that brown rock is just abeam of us, sock that pole =, nr it, and push ez hard ez youkin. Now mind you do it.” ‘“* Ay, ay,’ said Bentley, going to the stern. **Give me the word.”’ They were now approaching a place where a fall in the bed of the stream made a rapid, in which the water was churned into dazzling foam—a terrible sight to the eyes of those not accustomed to the ter- rors of the western plains. Naturally brave, Milli- cent could not help a shudder as she saw the danger a which they were rushing headlong, But a glance at that old man standing upright in the bow of the raft, stern and calm, grimly confident in him- self, restored her courage. Down into that wild waste of wreathing foam rushed the raft. A rock was on the rent hand, one on the left, and she seemed rushing gy d pon destruction in front. But, all at once, the head of the raft swung round, and showed clear water in front, perhaps ten feet in width,into which they rushed, The spray flew high overhead and fora moment blinded them. The next moment they assed out of their danger, and lay rising and falling n the more tranquil water just above another beaver-dam, in the midst of the canyon. ‘Aha,’ said Ben. ‘“‘Hyar webe. It'll trouble In- juns to nose us out hyar. They'll git round lively ef they do.”’ The raft floated on, and struck against the little dam, igo his pole, Ben pushedit along close to the edge of the dam and gained the shore, where he helped Millicent from the raft, and secured it. “Dat ish goot,” said Jan. ‘‘More ash petter ash oot. De ret Blackfeet nefer finds us here. Von’t pe mat!” and the Dutchman laughed loudly. at you do now, Penn?’’ “Do! I'm going furhelp. Ikin gitit too. Iseen Crow signs when I were out on the prairie after you, Bentley, and I think an old friend of mine alling Oak they call him, is out on the plains. ames ef ye dar’ to stay.” cent, + I kin find him, I'll meee **T am willing,’’ said ** And I,”’ said Bentley. **T’'d rudder go mit Penn, put if he say shtay here, I does it,’’ cried Janu. “‘Then I say stay hyar. They may need ye. Ef the wust comes, push out yer an’ make for the plains. Ye mout get off thet way. Ef so belI’m above ground, I won’t be two days gone. I've left ye meat enough to last a week, ef ye don’t go too | ICO mM (E eS (E() (E(0)