Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 427 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

—_———— —— _ Dees... ee a en, Ale All $$$ + seemed to go out in thesound, as a foarful din, a perfect pandemonium burst out on the night, Whoops and yells were heard from human lips, yells and howls from wounded beasts, these last mingled with the reports, in rapid succes- sion, of rifles and revolvers. Over them all could be heard distinctly the gallop of a hard- spurred steed, that snorted with pain and ter- ror. The long-tortured Texan knew that he and his baby boy were saved. The transformation was so sudden, so totally unexpected, from the extreme of misery and de- spair to life and hope, that he again became un- conscious, even amid the loud and discordant sounds that filled the gloomy space around him. CHAPTER ITI. THE BORDER HOME. Mention has been made of a timbered stream a short distance north from the spot where the tortured Texan was bound to the plain, there to meet death, with this young child, by hunger or thirst; by being torn in pieces by wolves, or trampled into the earth in the next stampede of buffaloes. This. creek was a branch of the Rio Concho, and upon its northern side, some fifteen miles distant from the point at which we have been interested, was located Camp Johnston, a fron- tier Government post. Somo eighteen miles further east from this station, the water of the creeks met those of the Rio Concho; and, at the triangular point of timber formed by the meet- ing of the two streams, was a log-cabin, which was completely hidden from view, and situated at a point which would seem to insure it against diseovery by the red roamers of the outer plains. Of course some war-party might encamp on the opposite bank of the Concho; but, even did the painted marauders from the Apache Moun- tains take up their position there, the cabin was not within their view, as it was located in a small natural “open,” midway between the streams and the outer line of timber, and also at some little distanec from the banks of both the river and its tributary. netpiiie moss, dense foliage, and thick under- growth formed a complete wall andarch around and above the dwelling; yet it was far from be- ing a safe place in which to locate,.and was in fact the most westerly dwelling on the border at the time of which we write. , To render such an abode less liable to he dis- covered by merciless foes, vines had been trailed over the rough log walls, at the sides and ends of the cabin, and even over the roof of rudely- split cedar shingles. .A veranda was_ built sates the front, and this also was entirely shad- ed by the creeping vines, ° All in all, it was a cosey and attractive little home, as Marion.Munroe had asserted, with the light of joy and happiness in her eyes, and many thanks upon her tongue, when her youthful hus- band had first brought her there, This was after a long and fatiguing journey from Fort Mason, where he had, while serving as scout and hunter for the post, won this fair daughter of the West for his bride. They had been a year in their new home at the commencement of our story, and, in that time a bright boy baby had been given them to glad- den their hearts and brighten that isolated frontier cabin. Madison Munroe wasa noted scout and ranger and was generally known as ‘‘ Mad Munroe,” from the insane fury that seemed to possess him whenever he was in a fight with the fodiens It was this, more than any desire to abbreviate his real name that gave to our young friend his sob- riquet, here were good reasons for his fury and hatred toward the red butchers of the plains, for his parents had been slain and mutilated, and his home burned, when he was but a youth; he himself escaping the fate of his father and mo- ther, only from the fact that he had been, at the time, absent on a fishing excursion. He had, however, heard the wild war-cries of the savages, and had rushed corns the tim- ber, crouching prudently, and indeed provi- dentially, in the undergrowth, when he realized that his death was certain were he discovered by the demons of the Pecos. From his covert he had witnessed the murder of both his parents and the destruction of his childhood’s home; and, although then quite young, he had vowed that he would terribly avenge his dear ones—an oath which he never. forgot, as those who served with him could tes- tify. A’ kind uncle had sent him to school in San Antonio; but, being naturally apt and remark- ee SSS... Q08 eee ee — EE rc eee eee The Three Trailers. ably intelligent, he remained but a short time in the Alamo City at his studies, Soon he re- turned to the frontiers, always bearing in mind his oath of vengeance; for he never, for a mo- ment lost sight of the dread scene which he had viewed in anguish from the undergrowth and which was indelibly photographed upon his brain. lt had been in consequence of that vow that young Munroe had adopted the life of a scout and ranger, in preference to the peaceful and retired one that was offered him. Many scalps from among the Apache and Comanche tribes had he, as trophies of his dar- ing, skill, and bravery, before hho had met his fate in the person of Marion St. Clair. Her father was a ranchero near Fort Mason, at the time Madison was in the employ of the com- mandant of that post. When the handsome pair were wedded by the chaplain of the old and honorable Eighth In- fantry, within the barracks, there had been a most joyous celebration; the Texans from the neighborhood having been present, with their families, and all had been as merry as such occa- sions should be. Soon after this, the commanding oflicer had been ordered to place a detachment of men at Camp Johnston, although that post had been abandoned some time PEaIOnS. He had also instructions to send out scouting parties, as the hostile tribes had become very troublesome and dangerous to the outer line of ranches, Thus it had been that Mad Munroe was forced to leave his young and beautiful wife, and to act as guide and scout for this detachment of troops. But Munroe had, soon after reaching Camp Johnston, resolved that Marion should join him; indeed, the young man felt quite lonely, as well as miserable and unhappy, without her, and he kept a lookout fora safe and suitable location for a home—some point, at which he could build a cabin for his cherished one—for the prospects were that he would be obliged to remain on the upper waters of the Rio Concho and its tributaries, for some length of time. He did not wish. to leave his wife at the camp of the troops, as there had been no women ac- companying even the ig ina rank of officers. Consequently, as has been said, he kept his eyes open for a safe retreat, some miles from the station; evontually selecting the spot we have mentioned, and there he had erected, to a great extent with his own hands, the log cabin that has been described. The principal assistance rendered him was by an old prairie pard of his known as ‘* Old Rocky,” and who will figure in future chapters as a noted scout and Indian- fighter, hen all was complete, in and about the little dwelling, Old Rocky and a friendly Caddo In- dian, by the name of Creeping Cat, and of whom we sha l know more as we proceed, had insisted upon accompanying him to Fort Mason to help to guide and guard the young wife to her new ome, Both the old scout and the Caddo had endeav- ored to dissuade. Madison from bringing bis bride to such a dangerous locality, but without success; for the young ranger was obstinate, and asserted that his Marion would be just as safe on the Concho as at the fort. He reasoned that it was absurd to entertain a thought of the probability of hostiles discovering the cabin, as the war-trails all led down country, giving Camp Johnston a wide berth, CHAPTER IV. THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT. THE white and the red pard of Mad Munroe had, finally, been forced to agree partially with the young man’s reasonings; nevertheless, after they had seen the happy pair settled in their new home, both Old Rocky and Creeping Cat, after holding a ‘council talk,” agreed and re- solved that they would bear in mind, when in their prairie wanderings, that it was quite pos- sible for the young wife to be discovered by the savages at any time. They, therefore, determined that they would visit the cabin, to make sure that all was safe and well with Marion; and ey were all the more anxious after the baby boy had been added to the little household. Madison was compelled to be absent for short scouts only, therefore he was not under the necessity of leaving his wife and child, at the first, alone over night; and, when now and then he was called upon to guide a detachment any great distance, Star byes the squaw of Creep- ing Cat remained with Marion until the hus- band of the latter returned. Old Rocky and his red pard roamed the plains at will, for scalps and vengeance; neither of 3 Send _——— - eee ee. them being bound to any man or any body of men, They could not ha hired to serve Govern- ment or State as scouts or guides, although many a time they performed such service, but simply as volunteers, Free as the prairie air they breathed they came and went as they saw fit. Having thus introduced our new characters, and led the readcr to a new scene, we proceed, first, however, stating that the tortured captive and his child, who have figured in the foregoing chapters, Claiming so much of our sympathy and ity, are, as has probably been inferred, Mad- ison Munroe and bis infant son. In what manner they came to be in such a fearful position together, and other matters per- taining to those we haye mentioned, it is now our duty to make known, First, however, we will state, that the wife of the young scout was very beautiful, and but eighteen years of age. She was the picture of health and happiness at the time we bring her before the notice of the reader, she having had naught to worry or grieve her to any extent, and being without any fear or. apprehension from savage foes. She trusted implicitly in her husband’s judg- ment, and would have braved great danger rather than remain away from him. She loved him deeply and truly, and she perfectly adored her bab ae Had dis been permitted to penetrate the fu- ture, however, or would have been paralyzed with horror; but, providentially for her, as for all of us, in most cases, she knew not what the morrow had in store for her, It was the evening previous to the day on which the unfortunate scout and his child are brought, to our notice, and the same little one is lying in its mother’s arms laughing, prattling and enjoying itself; as Marion sat rocking back and forth on the veranda of her vine-embowered and tree-arched cabin home. She was momentarily expecting to hear tho sounds made by the hoofs of her husband’s gal- loping horse on the narrow but well worn trail through the bottom-timber, as he returned down the creek from his duties at Camp Johnson. Taking into consideration the distance from the settlements, the forest lodge of the Munroes was furnished well, and with neatness; much artistic taste being displayed in the arrangement of the one Jarge room, the walls of which were ornamented in many and various ways with the horns of antelopes and deer, the plumage of beautiful birds, and curious grasses and mosses. And, notwithstanding the fact that. Marion Munroe was well aware that their home was in a most dangerous position on the border, she felt that it was secure from discovery, from its complete isolation, and from being at the forks of the streams, where only by accident a foo would be liable to enter. : Had the dwelling been located five miles fur- ther up or down the Rio Concho, she would not bave dared remain in it a single night; indeed, her husband would not have allowed. her to do so, Consequently, it will be seen that the cabin, if but fifty yards over on the opposite side of the river, would have been in danger of discovery at any time, day or night; but the difficulty in paren the river was a greafadvantage against is. All this had been explained by young Munroe to his wife, and she had trusted implicitly in his judgment and discretion. Marion was a beautiful sight, as we now see her. Seated, with her child, between two of the vine-covered posts—this picture, framed in verdure, in the soft, subdued light of the de- clining sun, and beneath the natural arches of the timber, from which hung long festoons of Spanish moss--she was fair to look upon, and especially so to Madison Munroe to behold upon his return after a hard day’s scouting. A great pity it was that this charming little border home, a very paradise on earth, was destined to bainvaded by the red fiends of the Rio Pecos. But so it was. No happier home could have been conceived of any where; and never had the slightest shadow fallen upon the youthful pair, if we except the few brief absences from each other, which could not be avoided, and which, if possible, but in- creased their love. Happy as a summer’s dream had that been, sy, neither of them had the remotest idea that the blissful dream was to be changed to a most horrible nightmare—that they were doomed to suffer ten thousand deaths, to suffer such mental and physical agony as was almost beyond belief, while their innocent babe was fated also to be tortured to the very door of death! Had Marion been less happy, and less occu- com we ee Cc — ‘s.com