Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 349 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

- an Crh It would have been a mercy had God then bereft Gracie Greene of all sense—yes, even bad He stricken her with death, rather than she should suffer ten thousand deaths, and yet live on! For a moment the unhappy girl, horrified by she knew not what, remained upon her hands and knees in the same spot, and peering through the bushes at the burning cabin. The silence that ruled around was very im- pressive and awful to that lone maiden, as she recalled the joyous songs and boyish shouts of merry laughter that had rung through the arches of the timber, day after day, for years. Awe-inspiring was this silence; death-like, but for the slight noises caused by the blazing lo Gracie trembled, aspen-like, for a moment, crawled forward a short distance, then caught at the bushes that bordered the bend, and which were but to her shoulders. Thus she gained an upright position, and stared at the conflagration, which blinded her sight as far as any Other object was coucerned. _ Stepping clear of the bushes, yet still retain- ing a hold upon them with one hand, Gracie closed her eyes for a moment. Then, shading them with her disengaged palm from the blaze and glare, she glanced along the sward between her position and the now nearly consumed dwelling. The scene and sound that followed would have caused a disinterested observer—did he or she possess any heart or feeling—the most poign- amt agony of soul and deepest sympathy; for there, within five paces of the poor girl, stretch- ed upon the ground amid pools of gore, were here darling mother and her loved little sisters and brothers, all scalped and mutilated! A sight that would have congealed the blood of an observer, even had he never known these victims of the fiendish Apache butchers! For one brief moment Gracie Greene stood as if transformed to marble; her eyes starting from their sockets in unspeakable horror. Then she threw her arms in the air, and from her lips came acry so full of harrowing anguish and despair that one would have supposed her life had gone out with that unearthly sound. The next instant she fell prone upon the evenss as devoid of sense as the slain before er , And Beauty, quivering in every limb, ad- vanced slowly, oft bounding backward with snorts of terror at the scent of blood; only again to advance his head, at times high in air, and then close to the sward, snuffing suspicious- iy and darting glances around on every side, hus, on came the equine pet of the senseless maiden; nearing, but slowly, the poior where she lay, his strong affection for his young mis- tress counteracting the terror caused by the blazing dwelling, the scent of blood, and the fearful sight of the gory slain, A stranger and more horrible scene could not well be imagined. The red light played over all, and arched the wide, far-stre:ching plain to the east, and the towering, moss-draped trees to the west. And, poor Gracie! senseless for the time. Heaven strengthen her and pity her, when again her eyes open with the ligt of reason in their depths; or else, in mercy, take her bayond and away from these horrors, ere again she gazes upon her dear ones as they are! ‘*God tempers the wiod to the shorn lamb.” May He enable his fair child to bear up, un- der her great and soul-torturing bereavement, But we draw a curtain over this horrible scene; a counterpart of which has oft been be- held by many bordermen. CHAPTER VI. A MINISTERING ANGEL. LONG lay Gracie Greene, as one dead, Beauty standing by her side, at times thrusting bis muzzle downward, and rubbing his nose very carefully over ber cheek and bands, snuffing at her prostrate form, and then jerking his head upward, aud darting keen glances around the dark shades, and at the fire. The horse often started with fright, when a forked flame shot higber than usual, as a log fell down, throwing out showers of sparks, So appalling and heart-rending had been the sight that had bereft Gracie of all sense, that not one “rye ie of her father had entered ber mind. Indeed, there was no time for thou ht; and, besides, her brain was incapable of action so great had been the shock, although she ha been somewhat prepared for it. Long she lay as described; but, at length, groaning heavily, she tossed her arms in the There she lay, mercifully jor, De sneer vemtntea nie ecnneeseeteie nen ee .. - 4 ao , y Af : =. ‘ ~— " we es ; ; | . ¥ 4 Wild Wolf, the Waco. air, as if warding off some terrible danger, and Beauty began to neigh, with evident delight at her awaking, Soon the poor girl arose to a sitting position, a look of horror frozen upon her pale face, ber staring eyes glassy and unnatural in expres- sion; but there appeared to be a settled look of | despair, mingled with these plainly-marked ex- pressions, which added to her almost insane ap- | pearance. Struggling to her feet, the terribly bereaved girl staggered to the side of her dead mother, and falling upon ber knees, kissed the cold brow and lips, Then she embraced, in like manner, the corpses of the children. It would have been torture for any civilized being to have witnessed this sad spectacle, Again she started up, and stood, with her eyes fixed upon the heavens, and her hair fall- ing low over her form, and shielding her shoul- ders, and the greater portion of her arms from | view, She strove to speak; but the prayerful words Le died on her lips. Naught but choking gasps proceeded from them, Againshe attempted it, and this time successfully; but the words were | so low, and sounded so strangely, that Beauty | started, as if frightened afresh. ‘‘Father in heaven! Why hast Thou thus | stricken me? Pity me! Take me home also, | and let me be at peace! This is more than I | can bear!” in one way, the words were answered in | pity. The overtaxed brain of the poor girl was | relieved by a flood of tears; this, probably, be- ing all that prevented her from going hope- lessly insane, Stepping to the side of her horse, Gracie again wound her arms about the animal’s neck. To her it seemed that all she loved ‘on earth, were either slain, or had deserted her, except her faithful steed. As the maiden thus stood, Beauty all at once gave out a snort of alarm, pricking his ears forward, and listening to sounds which he de- tected toward the north on the border of the timber, These sounds were the rapid, dull, clattering tramp of a horse, galloping over the grassy lain, and growing each instant more audible; ut the weeping girl heard them not. Nearer and nearer came the strange steed, soon dashing, with bounds of fright, around uae blazing dwelling, and directly before the slain, The animal had, however, been forced to this approach, against its will, by a skillfully jerked jaw-strap, and the not very gentle ap- plication of a dexterously-used quirt; the hiss of which drew the attention of Gracie more than the dull sound of the borse’s hoofs. The sight, which now met the tear-dimmed eyes of the poor girl, was one that filled her with as much of thankfulness as she was, at that time, capable of entertaining; but she was again blinded by the copious flood of tears, and resumed her attitude by the side of Beauty. The new-comer, upon this strange and borri- ble sceue, was a most beautiful Indian woman, who did not appear to be more than a year older than Gracie. She was attired in a suit of fawnskin;: the same being highly ornamented with beads, tiny shells, and silver trinkets, besides being richly fringed. A short-skirted dress and leggins made up her costume; her feet being incased in shapely, beaded moccasins, Her hair was long, and dark as a moonless midnight. Her keen and flashing eyes were the same hue, and roses struggled upon ber cheeks with the tan of the sun upon her bronzed skin. Ornaments were also in the mesbes of her hair, which hung to the back of her mustang; and, in the middle of the beaded fillet over ber brow, was a large fire-pointed star, the emblem of Texas. | This attractive squaw rode astride, in a most | graceful manner, and carried, at her belt, a sil- | ver-mounted Colt’s navy revolver, and a scalp- ing-kuife; while, banging at her back, was a | short bow, and a quiver of arrows. Lasso, blankets, gourd, and buckskin saddle-bags, were all secured to her saddle; proving that she | was prepared for prairie travel, and for camp.- | ing out as well. One lightning-like glance at the scene of the massacre, and then at Gracie and Beauty, the Indian woman shot from her dark eyes as she came upon the scene, and halted her mustang. Then, as the anguished face of the maiden met her view, as the fair sufferer raised her head from the neck of her horse, the squaw sprung to the sward, led her animal to the border of the timber, and secured the jaw-strap to a a sss — ae | sweet music in her ears. 4 - - “ A - drooping limb; the mustang rearing and snort ing in a frantic manner, at the scent of blood, the fire, and the slain. Heeding not the fright of her steed, the squaw strode, with the grace of a prairie fawn, to the side of our heroine, and clasping Gracie’s hand, pressed the palm to ber breast. There was a manner and expression, a look in the eye of the fair savage, that is but seldom seen in any of her stoical race. It was evident that she had been greatly im- pressed by everything in the sad surroundings, The sobs of the young girl became more vio- lent at this expression of sympathy from one, who, it was evident, was no stranger, although of the race by whom she had been so terribly bereaved. “The Good Spirit has sent Warnona to Dove Hye,” said the squaw, in a low, soft voice, ‘* Wild Wolf is not here. He rode to hunt the | deer, but he came not back to our lodge on Medina. Warnona ride to meet her chief, but she see him not, ‘* She see big fire. She know it ranch of Dove Eye. Her quirt fly fast. She is here, and her heart is sad. ‘*The Apache war-whoop has sounded on the creek. The scalps of my white friends are at their belts. Warnona is not a warrior, but she put on war-paint. She will follow Apache | trail. ‘“Come. Dove Eye will go with Warnona. The death-yells of Apaches shall sound like The scalps of my white friends shall not bang on Apache belts. Wild Wolf will see fire. He will follow trail, Find Dove Eye. Find Warnona. ‘* Ali sound war-cry. Thensave White Chief. He is not here. Apaches take him to torture, ‘‘Where Hawk Eye? He great warrior. Must fight for squaw. Blood of Dove Eye’s mother, blood of brothers,.blood of sisters cal] for vengeance, *‘Warnona’s words good. white sister?” The form of poor Gracie was convulsed with spasmodic sobs, as the young squaw of Wild Wolf spoke; and not until the name of White Chief was menticned, did she remove her head from the neck of Beauty. She was now filled with self-condemnation, at not having thought of her father, now her only living relative; though, for all she knew, he too might now be dead, The probability, however, of his being in the power of the Apaches, as Warnona asserted, caused the young girl’s feelings and emotions to change somewhat; and very providential was this. The advent of the Indian woman was a heaven-sent blessing, without doubt; and that, in more ways than one. The squaw had also spoken of Hawk Eye, or Gerald Granger, the lover, who bad also been, for the time, forgotten. If be would but come to her now, in this hour of deepest affliction, it would, Gracie thought, be a great consolation. If her father bad been captured—which she could not doubt—he would be put to the torture. The poor girl shuddered at the thought that, in all probability, ber father had witnessed the massacre of his wife and children! This was most horrible. It was more than she had been called upon to suffer; and most poignant pity and criss | for her survivin oat na crowded in amid her terrible agony o soul, Wild Wolf was out on a hunt, and would doubtless discover the glow of the flames. Perbaps Gerald would also see the fire, and hasten to Cottonwood creek. If so, both would not only follow the trail for revenge, and to rescue her fatber; but they would give the alarm to the neighboring ranch- eros. At first the proposal of Warnona seemed ab- surd, ' What could they, two women, do toward res- cuing a captive from an Apache war-party ¢ They would be slain, or perchance captured, However, the half-demented maiden, as War- nona ceased speaking, became desperate, and resolved that she would attempt to rescue her father, repudiating all her fear and feminine weakness. Surely, if Warnona would go.on the trail, when the latter had no object except to prove her friendship, she, whose fether was in the power of the demons of the Rio Pecos, should not hesitate. She was, thanks to Gerald, a good shot, not an unskilled lassoist, and could pick out a trail. These thoughts flashed through the mind of the bereaved maiden; but she was destined to have cause to strengthen her resolution, and What say my te) bart nN comic