Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 427 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

12 eee ee wee ee ee. - -- - «+ 2. ! Most impressive in speech and manner, was | the young scout as he thus spoke; his eyes, all the while, glaring fiercely. It was plainly evident to his listeners, that he would become a raving maniac, if pursuit were not at once made. Yet what could be done? Munro had no horse. ‘* Does yer s’pose we-’uns ain’t in w.’ yer, pard Madison, in ther cut, shoot, an’ t’ar ha’r biz? Does yer s’pose we-’uns ain’t goin’ ter seo ther hull biz through? Dang my dorgs, ef I’d throw up my chances ©’ skinnin’ ’Pache heads fer a hull section o’ Texas dirt, grass throwed in! An’ Creepin’ Cat ?u’d sculp hisself, ef he gut scrouged outen ther game. ‘* Howsomdever, thar’s no critter fer yer ter straddle, ’ceptin’ a buffler; but thar’s heaps o’ them animiles clost by.” As Old Rocky ceased speaking, Star Eyes stepped forward, and placed the jaw-strap of her mustang in the hand of Mad Munroe, say- ing: “Here good horse for white brother. Ride fast for rion. Star Eyes will walk to Camp Johnston. She will carry pappoose, It is good.” The old scout looked, for the moment, as though he had been suddenly paralyzed. At length he found utterance, ‘* Wa’al, dang my dorgs! Who'd ha’ thunk o’ thet? Hit’s jist ther way, an’ ther only way ter "range hit. ‘*Star Eyes, ye’re es purty es a home-made angel, an’ more chief nor squaw when yer gits ina tight place. Ef yer kin skin through ter ther station, we’uns is O. K. fer ther trail. But, what yer goin’ ter fight with, pard Mun- roe? Without further words the young squaw passed her revolver and knife to Madison, who accepted the weapons reluctantly, and only after the chief had spoken. ‘‘Good,” was the remark of the Caddo, when he witnessed the act of hissquaw. ‘Star Eyes, she got bow. She gotarrows, Come! ‘* Buffalogone. War-trail ee War-whoop on lips. Creeping Cat has spoken.” With these words the chief sprung astride his black steed. ‘‘Whoop-er-ee! Dang my dorgs, ef things ain’t comin’ out O. K. fer all consarned, an’ right smart billyus fer ther smoky sons o’ Satan what hes got Marion! ‘‘T smell bleed, ’Pache bleed, on the air. I feel ha’r, ’Pache ha’r, atween my fingers. Come on! Even ther buffler hev cl’ar’d ther way, an’ thet’s a good sign. ‘*l’m fer perergrinatin’, peramberlatin’, per- ceedin’, purty pertickler speedy. Star Eyes, so- long! Take good keer o’ ther baby, an’ I'll see yer Br tort ‘aft later. Whoop!” Both Mad Munroe and Creeping Cat had spurred toward the trampled plain, before the old scout had gotten through with his remarks; the chief waving an adieu to his squaaw, whom he might never again behold. And she, with the child of Marion Munroe in her arms, strode into the dark shades of the timber, casting but one glance over her shoulder at the fast-speed- ing trio, on the trail for revenge and rescue, Fhe vast herd of bison had passed on, swery- ing easterly, to crash through the timber of the Rio Concho; and there the stampede would, without doubt, be gradually broken, as the wrangling mob of beasts plunged into the tim- ber and river, their speed becoming mucli less, through fatigue, before reaching that point. Thus the way was providentially opened for the wronged and desperate Munroe, who, know- ing the direction the Apaches had taken, and were when last seen, proceeding, galloped with almost a certainty of striking the Concho river below the probable camping-place of the marau- ders. Should he and his two friends luckily accom- plish this, they could, with proper caution, steal, under cover of the dense undergrowth, through the timber to the Apache camp. But, only through strategy could they hope to rescue poor Marion, . Icnowing this, both Old Rocky and the Caddo chief were much concerned, in regard to the condition of Mad Munroe, but they hoped the long gallop that was before them would calm the young man’s brain somewhat, and then they might be successful in reasoning with him. i was above all things necessary that they should prevail upon him to curb his impetuous fury and insane cers to the extent of caus- ing him to realize that he was jeopardizing the life of his wife, and indeed the lives of their own little party as well, by rushing matters, The Three Trailers. avengers galloped. On, over the trampled plain, the ceaseless thumping of the hoofs of their steeds, and the panting of those hardly- taxed animals, being the only sounds that broke the death-like silence of that dreary and barren prairie. No one spoke a word. Mad Munroe had ample food for thought, thought most torturing to his already agonized brain. The ride was too rapid for conversation, and besides there was little necessity for their saying anything; for all knew the work that was before them, and that it was, to say the least, very possible that they were galloping to their death—riding, headlong, to meet their fate at the torture stake, if not to be butchered in an assault. Yet this thought was hardly, even for a mo- ment, taken into consideration. The imminent ril of poor Marion was what was uppermost in the minds of all. Fast though they rode, they did not urge their horses to their greatest speed, for that would have been foolish, as, without much doubt, they would be pressed in a mad chase by the Apaches, should they succeed in rescuing Marion. Besides pert believed that they would be able to reach the Rio Concho at the point they de- sired, and thus gain the vicinity of the enemy’s camp during the small hours of the morning. This would. he the most favorable time to at- tempt a rescue, either secretly or by a bold or daring dash. It was indeed a most reckless undertaking— that which our friends contemplated, or in fact had already decided upon; for they knew, by having carefully examined the ‘‘sign,” that there were nearly three-score of braves in the Apache war-party. ut they were also aware that there was more chance to succeed than did they have a full company of cavalry at their backs; for, in such a case, Marion would be butchered by the say- ages at the first alarm. They were confident, by the condition in which they felt sure the mustangs of the In- dians must be, that the latter would encamp as soon aS water and grass were reached, The 5! therefore, aimed to strike the Concho east of tine point at which they believed the marauders had encamped, and so far from the same as not to expose themselves to discovery, when they ap- proached the timber that bordered the river. When the dark line that marked the course of the Rio Concho was discovered in the dis- tance, the friends proceeded at a slow pace, keeping a lookout for a blaze or glow from a camp-fire up the stream to the west; but none was Visible, The Caddo, however, caught sight of a flash through the trees, probably as some one of the sentinels near the Apache encampment ignited his calumet from a twig thrust into the smol- dering embers of a nearly extinguished fire. At any rate, the chief now felt confident that he had located correctly the camp of the red foe, and followed by his two white pards, the Creep- ing Cat went cautiously forward. CHAPTER XV. AMONG THE APACHES, Tue bright and silvery moon shines down up- on the earth, casting bars, end arrows, and splashes of light through the limbs of the tower- ing trees that border the upper waters of the Rio Concho, and flooding with its light a natu- ral ‘‘ open” quite near the slowly rolling river, which, where the smiles of Dame Luna reach it, seems like molten silver. From the branches of the trees hang long. slowly waving festoons of ‘‘ old man’s beard,” or Spanish moss, the whisperings of which, in the evening zephyr, are to the full as weird as its pall-hke appearance. The dense undergrowth of thorny shrubs, vines, and cacti are dark; no ray of the moon pea the lower shades, where the wild seasts find safe and secret covert. It isa wild scene, but rendered wilder still, and more savage, indeed infernal, by those who pains me those solitudes for this particular night. The moonlit ‘‘open,” which has been men- tioned, has been taken as a camping-place for his war-party, by Red Wolf, the Apache chief. On the western portion of this ‘* open” are many mustangs, which are kept from roaming by the wall of tangled undergrowth, and from inter- fering with the slumbers of their master by three guards, On the eastern side, across from the animals Hour after hour, the trio of rescuers and | upon the grassy sward, lay more than half a hundred hideous warriors of the Pecos, sleeping as soundly as though their hands had never been bathed in innocent blood, or tho dyin shrieks of their many tortured victims ha never pierced their ears. Frightful, indeed, they appeared, as the sil- very moonlight revealed their daubs of war- paint upon breast, face and arms, for the mild air of the night requires no blanket covering in this latitude and season. Their many-colored blankets, stolen in raids into Montezuma Land, are spread upon the sward for them to repose upon, and these add to the effect of the imposing, but savage scene. Lances are thrust into the earth, from which hang shields, quivers and bows trimmed with scalps, many of which are flaxen and golden torn from the heads cf innocent children and lovely maidens! The camp-fires are but smoldering embers mostly hidden from view by a covering of ashes, There are but three awakein the camp. These are young braves, who guard the horses and their brother warriors; although, from the fact that but this number has been detailed, it is evident that the Apaches are not apprehensive of pursuit. They had doubtless heard the rumb- ling noise made by the stampede of bison, and thus knew that their trail had been obliterated. Thus far, as we have described the carap, all was clear and distinct as it lay in the moonlight; and one would not notice the most impressive tos pa or figure in the scene which was at the order of the ‘‘ open.” There, bound fast to the trunk of a small tree, was poor Marion Munroe, her beautiful face pale as death, and upturned to thesky. Her shapely head leaned against the tree, and her lips, which were almost colorless, moved as if in earnest prayer for deliverance. Her hair had fallen loose from its bands, and was hanging in wild and tangled disorder over her shoulders. Her clothing was in tatters. Her eyes were glassy and staring, and were filled with a hopeless despair that was awful and heartrending to behold. It was a picture such as no civilized person would care to look upon a second time, if pow- erless to relieve the eo sufferer. Little grounds had Marion to expect the de- liverance, for which she lenges hits 8 in- deed, she had none whatever. Perhaps, after all, it was only death that she longed for; be- lieving, and with geod cause, that both her husband and her darling babe were already free from torture, and beyond the ills and pains of earth. The Apaches, also, doubtless believed that their victims had been trampled to death, be- yond the semblance of humanity, Slowly, as the moon rode through the heay- ens, a bar of its silvery light was brought to bear, through the branches, upon the fair an- gelic face and head of poor Marion; seeming an encouragement to hope, and as if her prayer for rescue was to be answered. What a contrasé the fair captive presented to her surroundings—to the hideous demons who now lay outstretched in sleep! But that bar of moonlight was surely Heaven sent! It did good service. It revealed, to three crouching and slow] creeping forms, which stole up from the baile of the river, her whom they most desired to see—her whom they had sworn to rescue from the fiends who held her. These were the avengers, Mad Munroe, Old Rocky, and Creeping Cat, the Caddo. The first mentioned had become more ra- tional, and strove bravely to restrain his insane desire to dash into the camp of the Apaches, and tear his loved wife from the tree. Both the Caddo and the old scout placed their hands upon his arms, the moment they perceived the sad spectacle, sO agonizing to thé young man. ‘‘ Dang my dorgs,pard,” whispered Old Rocky ; ‘“¢ olide easy now, easy er our gravy’s spilled an’ Marion’s a goner! ‘‘Tverythin’ hev gut ter be did pertickler proper, er we-uns ’I] never propel over ther per. rarers in futur’, Hit’s a pesky perdickerment. ’Bout how’d we~uns better perceed on ther p’o- gramme?” ‘Creeping Cat go other side of ‘ open.’ Shake bush. pache come see what make noise, Caddo knife find heart. ‘Old Rocky, he shake bush here. Kill Apache when come this way. Mebbe so other brave come, too, He must go on long, dark trail, ‘‘ Mad Munroe, he crawl tosquaw. Be ready Gcom book