Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 41 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

—— = = 8 He took the lasso attached to the bow of his saddle in his right hand, and dashed from the woods down toward the wild horses. Being to the leeward of them, they had ridden several rods before the herd discovered them. When it did, they pricked up their ears, gave a snort of affright, and dashed away to the northward, their hoof-strokes sounding like the dull, inces- sant roar of thunder. White Lightning took the lead of the herd, and as he swept onward, he presented a noble picture with his small head turned slightly to one side, his red nostrils dilated with terror and his mane and tail streaming out on the wind like a spotless banner of white. ig Bear gained rapidly on his companions and the stragglers of the herd. Mile after mile was left behind in an incredibly short time. A long, serpent-like cloud of dust — on the air behind, marked the trail of the hunters. For an hour they swept on. Many of the fee- bler ones of the herd were passed, but the Co- manches paid no attention to these. White oe was the sole object of that chase. ith eager eye Big Bear watched the flyi steed, and his heart beat wildly with a feeling o joy and triumph when he saw he was gaining on the snowy steed. He pressed his animal to its utmost, and with: its t, heavy burden the beast fairly flew over the plain, now gaining on the fugitive steed at every bound. Nearer and nearer the Comanche chief ap- proached to the one object of the race. Closer and closer his clashing hoofs sounded—now so close that the dust and dirt were flung back in his face—so close that he could almost reach him with his lasso. The emotious of the savage chieftain became wild as he gained steadily upon the fugitive. And at length the moment for action came, The raw-hide lasso shot from the Indian’s hands with a quick “whir” toward the steed. True to its aim, the fatal noose fell over the head of the wild horse and was gradually drawn taut around his throat. The Comanche now reined in his animal by slow degrees until he finally brought it to a stand. The wild beast reared and plunged madly, Soom the air with his feet and snort- ing fiercely, but his efforts only served to tighten the rope about his neck, and at last he made a desperate lunge, gasped and fell to the earth, choked down As none of his friends had yet come up, Big Bear sprung from his animal, and g a heavy blanket from his saddle, he advanced toward the fallen beast, to throw it over his head, but before he could reach the animal, a figure sprung from the grass at his feet and dealt ay x thew upon the that sent him half blinded to the earth. A yell burst from his lips, followed by the cry, “‘ Lasso Jack! Lasso Jack!” Te was, indeed, Lasso Jack, who had sprung so suddenly from the grass near where the cap- tured White Lightning lay. Dealing Big Bear a second blow as he attempted | sk ag feet, and giving his horse a severe dig with his drawn knife, the Comanche’s horse went careering wildly over Sone ga Then Jack, with marvelous skill, threw a por- tion of the lariat into the shape of a bridle, and, severing the thong at the an l’s neck, White Lightning was free, and, as it gained its breath it stru led to its feet. But a rider was upon its The young mustanger had mounted the wild, enciliqiutet steed as he rose to his feet. The beast made two or three efforts to throw the rider off, but in vain. Jack sat as firm as though he had been a part of the horse himself and his extemporized bridle gave him a means of steering his infuriated steed into any desired course. “ Good-day, my dear Big Bear,” Jack shouted back to the indian as the steed dashed away; “T hav’n’t got time to take your scalp to-day, but Ill see you another—” The rest of the sentence was lost to the ears of the defeated, dumbfounded savage, by the distance that had so suddenly separated the enemies. Big Bear had been robbed of his game. In the very moment of his triumph, he had met with shame, defeat. And, as he stood and watched the young mustanger flying away into the dis- tance upon White Lightning, his rage and anger knew no bounds, CHAPTER XI. IN DESPAIR. THE re of the two sisters, Rosalind and Mabel Garfield, can better be imagined —— on themselves alone, shut up in what yet might prove a li tomb. They knew the dangers to which Lasso Jack and his rae taro would be exposed, and that there was nothing certain that they would reach the fort alive. After Jack had bid them good-by, they sat and listened to the faint sounds transmitted through the powder-horn ventilator. They heard the retreating hoof-strokes of their friends’ horses, then all became silent as the grave. The sisters sat waiting in breathless suspense, expecting each moment to hear the savages come to take possession of the deserted camp. Hours wore away thus waiting. At last they hear the thumping jar of hoofs upon the plain mingled with the sound of excited voices tha The maidens tremble with fear and suspense. ae can hear their horses’ footsteps as they walk about from place to lace, and once a low, suppressed cry esca bel’s lips, for they hear the dull thud of a hoof on the turf direct- ly over them; they feel the fine dirt sift through on their hands and face, and hear the boards over them creak. Fear takes ion of them —a fear that a savage will ride upon the turf above them and break through into their re- treat and crush them. But they soon find relief from these fears. The savages on to the sana side of the inclosure, yet they are not so far away but what they can hear them talking in fierce, vindictive tones that are finally mingled with Pb gn of tri- umph, the crashing of boxes, and the bursting open of rum and brandy , The sisters know what is to follow. They know there was liquor in the traders’ wagons, and that a drunken row was sure to be the re- sult of its discovery. They arte 4 breathe through fear of being heard, for they know they are in imminent Pec and they shudder to think what would be their fate were they to be "HOurego by. © Th hear the savages rs go by. ey can hear the sa charging about in Srciaibin revel, but at length they grow quieter and quieter till the camp ae en Sad by cm 4 eae behca they can still hear, walking about, cursing an raving like a madman at his drunken com- es. It was Juarez Diaz, the Texan Terror, but the maidens knew it not. At length they begin to hear voices ‘ and know that the savages are awakening from a drunken sleep. They hear words of command given by an authoritative voice. It is to harness animals to the wagons, — up the strewn articles and put them in the wagons. The maidens soon distinguished the rattling of harness chains; then followed a rumbling and crunching of n-wheels. Their hearts gave a great, ane for they knew the savages were ‘ silence, and the sisters breathed ually deepen into savage yells of triumph. Soon all was easier, for they realized that they had made a narrow escape from discovery. ‘* Thank !” exclaimed Mabel, ‘‘they are gone at last—after an age of fear and sus- vn Yes, and now we can ne for release soon, dear sister,” replied Rosalind, “for it must be nearly if not altogether ht.” ‘** Look up through caer ans holes over your head ind, and perhaps you can tell whether it is dark or not.” Rosalind felt about for the mouth of one of the horns, and when she had found it shea plied her eyes to the orifice, but all was dark- ness where but a short time ago she could see a faint ray of neg) by ee , “Tt is night, it is night, Mabel,” cried Rosa- lind, joyfully. ‘‘ Lasso Jack and Dan will soon be here with assistance to relieve us.” Mabel’s heart fluttered jo y at her sister’s words of encouragement—the hope of soon be- ing free, but when her mind reverted to Henry St. Elmo, she almost wished she was in her ve, for what would life be to her without ¢ But, finally she said, seeing Lasso Jack had awakened a deep interest in Rosalind’s young _ “Tasso Jack is a noble, brave fellow, Rosa- lind, and I cannot see how one so free-hearted and enthusiastic as you are can help admiring him. I know he is your style of—” ‘“Why—why, Mabel, what do you mean?” stammered Rosalind, confusedly. ‘*T mean what I say, you little hypocrite. Do you think that you can conceal from me your admiration for 0 Jack?” ‘You surprise me, Mabel, but I will frankly te than I can describe them, when they found | admit Lasso Jack is worthy any woman’s love. Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. Yes, dear sister, and I know my heart would break if the news should come to me that he was dead, as it did to you of Henry, not sayin that I love Jack more than you did Henry. F never knew what love was till I met Jack, and now I can i ine how you suffer at heart, Ma- bel; yet I feel certain Henry is not dead. Some- thing tells me so.” **Oh, if I knew he lived I could wait here a month, Rosalind, for his coming, but I am—” ** Hark, Mabel! what noise is that?” The sisters listened. They heard a slight noise like that of falling rain, and after they had lis- tened several minutes, then all relapsed into si- lence again. The sisters waited anxiously for the coming of Lasso Jack to their rescue, for they were fully satisfied that night had long since set in. They ate some of their food, not, however, because they were hungry, but to give themselves the strength they knew they would need when their friends came to take them away. But, the hours wore on and no one came. Still they waited and waited, but allin vain. They knew that the night was almost spent, and their hitherto bright Bopes began to por clouded.+ Then they thought that —— Jack had been detained, but would yet come. And still the hours sped. At last Rosalind ap- plied her eyes to their small look-out, and a cry of delight burst from her li ** W hat is it sister?’ questioned Mabel. The night has and a new day dawned. Oh, Mabel! I fear something dreadful has hap- pened Jack and his friends! ‘* Let us hope for the best, sister,” replied Ma- bel; ‘‘they may have only been detained in get- we, & the fort. _We should not despair yet.” ey ate their breakfast and whiled away the time in recounting the trials of their journey and the bitter experiences of their young lives. But, as the hours wore away, each one grew longer and longer to the impatient sisters. At noon a faint oe of sunshine—a mere thread of light, like a ray of me struggled down through one of the n horns, at mouth was inclined a little southward, into their dark retreat. But when that faint thread of sunshine melted away, they knew the sun had crossed the meridian and was declining west- ward, and from that minute their spirits began to decline also. They waited for several more weary hours, un- > wey knew it must be ogee 5 54 — $s courage gave wa e burst forth, almost in despair: ra ‘“Mabel, they are not coming. They have been slain or captured! We have got to esca from here and take our chances of reaching the haciendo of the old ranchero spoken of by Jack.”’ ‘* We could never reach there alive, little sis- ter!” moaned bel. ‘‘Oh, may Heaven aid us in ile eying boat iui Shall we no remove cove Seige) Se rene over us, Mabel?” . **'Yes,” cried Mabel; ‘‘let us get out of this place into the open air, or I shall suffocate!” Rosalind placed her hands against the boards that supported the covering of turf and sod, and endeavored to push them upward, but her feeble strength was inadequate to the task. She could not move them, ‘* Mabel, you will have to assist me,” she said. Mabel came to her assistance, and ther they pushed upward on the boards with all their uni stren but they might just as well have endeavored to lift up the dome of a rocky cavern, for they could not move it. Again and in they tried it, but without su and at last they gave it up and’ sunk down with a cry of despair. “Oh =! Sata Rosalind, we are inclosed in a living tomb—buried alive!” moaned Mabel. 6 not—oh, do not talk so, Mabel!” replied Rosalind; ‘‘let us hope for a more pleasant fate —a more comfortable death-bed!” ‘* We can not deny the plain yet terrible truth, d. How are we to escape from here? Surely by no effort of our own, and without a doubt those who know we are buried here are powerless—if not dead—to help us.” ‘* Let us rally our courage, and try to look at the bright side of the Pon even lf we are in a dungeon, You see I have the hunting-knife that Jack gave me to slice our venison with. With it I can probably york one of the holes overhead, then we can reach out and remove the sod, block by block, as it was placed sane us. In this way, We may yet escape from ere,” “True, true, Rosalind. It is well you are not as thoughtless as I am; but then you know it is my nature, sister, to fret and give right up, com JOOS TeCoOnr