Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 427 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

em 4 gucrd thein, although the scout and his wife sill remained unconscious, Then the plunder from the cabin was con- veyed over the Rio Concho, on a raft of drift- wood collected for the purpose; as were also the captives soon after, and the corpses of the slain. This removal was quickly accomplished, for the savages feared that the glow of the conflagra- tion would be observed at Camp Johnston; and, in that case, a detachment of troops would at ony be dispatched down the creek, to investi- gate. The captives were placed, bound, upon the ground in the Apache camp, and iminediate steps were taken for a night march, to avoid be- ing attacked by the “ long-knives,” adison and Marion soon recovered their senses, both regretting they had not been slain, when they realized their awful position, and be- held the exultant fiends flitting past in the hght of their camp-fires, bearing their slain into the suades for burial, and preparing for the march, The scout knew but too well the terrible fate that was in store for him, but he thought only of his poor wife and child; the probable doom of Marion, rendering him almost insane at the thouzht of it. He had been surprised, upon regaining con- sciousness, to hear the feeble cries of his baby boy. He had believed that the child would have been slain at once, as was usual with In- cians when on the war-path. Infants, and even larger children, were clways brained, as their crying would betray the captors to pursuers. Had Munroe known the hellish plan the chief had conceived in connection with the little one, his agony of mind would have been increased ; although this seemed impossible in the condition in which he found himself, Marion had, at first, upon recovering her senses, been overjoyed on Sag ine, a husband alive, and not seriously injured; but the hope- less anguish that was stamped upon his face, mingled with the strange look of agonized pity in his eyes, caused the poor young wife to re- rret, the next moment, that either of them had een spared, to regret that they, and their babe as well, had not been slain at once, Death would have relieved them from the aw- ful misery in prospect, and from which there seemed no avenue of escape. So dread were the surroundings, and so utter- ly hopeless their position, that neither could speak to the other, although their eyes spoke vo'umes, Madison Munroe did not believe the glare of the blazing cabin would be noticed from Camp Johnston, on account of the towering timber to tho east of the post; or, if it was, that the guard would report the same, as frequently fires raged on the prairies, and were unnoticed. Conse- quently, there was little hope of aid from the troops until it would be too late. Ilis failure to report on the coming appa, to guide a scouting-party up the country, wou d awaken suspicion in regard to the safety of him- self and family, and the commandant would coubtless send a soldier to ascertain the cause of his absence. But that would little avail them. By that time the Apaches would be too far away to be overtaken; or their trail, if they proceeded westward, to the south of the stream, vrould be obliterated by the herds of buffalo. Altogether there were but slight grounds upon which to base a hope of rescue; or, if this were attempted by the soldiers, the Indians would at once put himself and his loved ones to death, Mad Munroe could only by a superhuman ef.- fort, suppress groans of despair. But this was not on his own account, The probable fate of his wife was to him so terrible even to think of, that he could scarce lecp from shrieking out in his mental agony. And then came the thought of his innocent child, end the inhuman tortures to which the merciless fiends would, in all probability, sub- jact it. : Uis one hope was now that the babe would screech and cry, to the extent of infuriating the ravages and causing them to brain it at once, thus putting it beyond the lingering death which might otherwise be in store for it. It was a wonder that poor Marion retained her senses during the preparations of the red de- mons for the march; for she must have expected each instant that her husband and child would be slain before her eyes and she herself reserved for a far worse fate, But the poor woman bore all with remarkable fortitude, and so hasty were the preparations for departure that the captives _ ‘were not taunted or by the savages in any way. The sun had now sunk below the horizon, and the line of march was taken up by moonlight. Munroe was rudely thrown astride a mustang and bound fast to the animal, amid the jeers of the wild horde; but he spoke not a word, he ut- tered no complaint. This so infuriated his cap- tors, that they clutched Marion ky the arms, and dragged her over the ground to the horse upon which she was to be bound, flinging her roughly upon the beast, and causing her great pain as they secured the thongs about her delicate limbs, While this was going on, another savage held the child by one of its legs, head downward; the little one crying with pain and fright as the mother was being bound upon the mustang. Mad Munroe fairly foamed at the mouth. He ground his teeth with fury, and his eyes flashed with a murderous light while he writhed and made the most herculean efforts to break free. ‘* Dogs! Coyotes! Cowards!” he yelled. ‘* Un- loose me, and Vll fight tae whole pack of you! Apaches are squaws, and dare not fight men. ‘*The wolves of the Pecos should wear petti- coats and not go on the war-path. They can only fight women and children, ‘*T spit upon you! The death-howls of your braves are music in my ears, and Apache scalps hung thick in my log lodge before you burned it to the ground. ‘* Bad Medicine will be on your trail, for you have burned the scalps of many braves who bibs A high in the councils of your tribe of coyote whelps, ‘*Mad Munroe will hear your death-howls be- fore he dies. You cannot kill me. The-.Great Spirit will send the ‘‘long-knives” on your trail. Ihave spoken. My talk is done.” The scout shot out these words with a threat- ening and furious manner, and so grand and daring, so reckless and impressive was he, that, in their superstition, they began to fear that ill- luck would follow them for having burned the lodge and the scalps of their braves. The chief was furious with his warriors for not baving more thorone inspected the cabin before setting it on fire. They might then have discovered the scalps and buried them with the slain, who could then have borne them on the ‘long dark trail,” to give joy to those who were forced to linger thereon from having been de- prived of that without which they could not pass into the “‘ happy valley.” No further indignities were offered to the cap- tives, the Apaches seemed to have forebodings of danger, on account of the scalps having been burned through their own means. The hideous horde set out from their camp in a long and serpentine line; the captives bein separated, Munroe in the front and blindfolded, and Marion with her child at some distance in the rear. On through the night they went, following the timber of the Rio Concho for some miles. Then they forded the stream and struck wester- ly, over the broad prairies, toward the great buffalo-range. . CHAPTER VIII. THE PARTING ON THE PLAINS, Who could, even in a slight degree, imagine the anguish of Madison Munroe when he beheld his loved wife dragged along the ground, and then bound upon the back of a mustang by the brutal savages? And how intensely must his whole nature have been tortured upon behold- ing his little innocent baby boy, carried by a hideous red fiend who had clutched the child by one leg and, amid screams and shrieks from the little one, tossed it across the lap of its captive mother. Poor Marion’s face was convulsed with the most soul-deep agonized emotions, which were beyond anything like mere expression; and, as for her hh anguished husband, after his mad and fruitless effort to burst his bonds, he had sat his horse in silence, trembling from head to foot. The one violent show of emotion manifested by their captive caused the savages the most joyous glee, and perhaps gave to the chief, Red olf, anidea of the manner in which he could cause the greatest torture to the young Texan; which was afterward acted upon, as will be shown. When the capture had first been made, the Apache chief had resolved that he would spare the life of the white squaw—that Marion should be his slave—consequently he could not use her in his proposed torture of the young scout. But Heaven knows the plan he had concocted in his depraved brain was more than errs torturing, Without adding another pang throug the wife to the husband, more than the thoughts of that wife’s own probable doom, The Three Trailers. None but the most miserable and bloodthirsty of savage brutes would have thought of the dev~ Be i that had been decided upon by Red. olf, The condition and situation of our friends, revious to the start on that night march, had. een far too terrible for words, Had the scout been alone in his captivity, he would have borne all with fortitude, ana re- turned taunt for taunt. That the man who had so often proved him- self as brave and daring as was possible, should thus exhibit emotion so strongly in connection with his squaw and pappoose, surprised, even. astonished, the Apaches. it caused them to look ee him, for the first time, with something like contempt. Yet, his gallant and reckless charge was fresh in their minds, and all agreed that, notwith- standing his show of squaw-like weakness since then, he was well worthy to die the death of a warrior—that is, a death of prolonged anguish and agonizing torture. This the chief decided was his due. When the war-party had proceeded on the march, the captive scout had been blindfolded and placed at some distance in the line:of braves from his wife and child; and this, as the Indians knew, would torture him greatly, for he would be ignorant of the whereabouts of his wife, or her fate during his forced ride. And, all through that long gallop over the moonlit plains, after having crossed the Rio Concho, the husband and father was racked to the very soul in regard to his dear ones. Even during the time that the war-party en- camped in the timber of the creek on the follow- ing dav, west of Camp Johnston, even then the mother and child were kept from poor Madison’s: view. The object of the savages in this, was most fiendish in conception. They intended to allow the young scout to see his wife only when the time came for them to be parted forever. Marion, however, was aware that her husband was in the line of warriors, and this was some consolation to the poor woman. Her sufferings, though terrible, would have been more excruciating had she known the hap- penings, which were only too soon to cause the misery and despair she then experienced to be ha piness in comparison, When the sun was high in the heavens, im fact, at the hour of mid-day, then the war-party once more equipped their mustangs, secured their captives as before, and struck out from the cool shades upon the open plain, down upon which the sun skone with a heat that was most intense. ‘When the horde had gained some distance from the line of timber, far out on the bald and barren plain, a signal yell burst from Red. Wolf, and at once the horses upon which the captives were bound, were led forward to- gether beside the chief; the war-party i a wide circle, as they sat upon their wild- eyed mustangs, and presenting a horrible pic- ture of savage life. At a motion of Red Wolf’s hand, the two braves, who had Jed the horses of the captives, and who still held the animals, secured the heads: of the mustangs together, and then cut the thongs which bound Mad Munroe to the beast he bestrode. They then jerked the unfortunate man roughly to the ground, upon which he felk with a heavy thud. Marion gave acry of agony, which caused am ejaculation of joyous exultation to break from Red Wolf's lips, and a groan of mortal anguish from Madison, who was confident that a halt had been made to torture him to death, and that before the eyes of his wife; for he now knew thatshe was near at hand, and not slain as he had once thought possible. He had expected torture wheu the Apaches had encamped at the creek, but now he knew well, from the short distance traveled since then, and from his being cut free from the mus- tang that his time had come. Yet the fate of his helpless wife and child was still uppermost in his mind, He. knew but too well the character of the in- human monster, and was confident that poor — would be reserved for a still sadder- ate. He had heard one outcry from their infant, and that had shot through bis brain like an ar- row. Up to that time, he had hoped that the little one was slain, and was beyond suffering. He could not believe that_the brutes would al- | low the babe to be retained by its mother. + Too soon was he to know the awful fate to which the child was doomed, eens —-~ * : a Cte -- T<-