Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 427 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

- —- 2 oa - — -~ - - . une —o They were now out upon the open plain, and the savages would not linger there, in the in- tense heat, for any length of time. Besides, they were exposing themselves to discovery, by wandering soldiers and hunters from Camp Johnston. Thus reasoned Mad Munroe, and a suspicion of the terrible fate that awaited him flashed through his mind. The wonder was that his brain was capable of reasonable thought. But he was not to be left long in suspense. His suspicions were confirmed, even before the buckskin bandage was removed from his eyes; for, close beside him, stakes were being driven into the ground. Marion gazed, with a wild andagonized stare, upon the fettered form of one who was dearer to her than life itself. She had no idea why the stakes were being driven, but she was soon to know. Her agony of mind was now too intense for tears, ‘here was a half-insane, a hopeless look in her beautiful eyes, that would have melted a heart of stone, but the red fiends were simply heartiess, At length the stakes were driven deep into the earth, projecting but a few inches from the sur- face of the plain. Every stroke upon them had seemed to Madison Munroe to have fallen upon his skull; and had it not been for his dear ones, he would have wished it so in reality. Although there were not the faintest grounds for hope, the strong man had not entirely given up to despair, except at flitting moments. When the work was completed, the two braves again clutched Munroe, this time by feet and arms, and hurled him roughly between the pro- jecting stakes. Then they secured strong bands of buffalo- skin, one to each wrist and ankle, Their doing this before cutting the thongs that bound the legs and arms together, proved that they feared the scout would, stiffened though he must be, throw himself upon them, Another proof there was of this fear, for three more braves were signaled, thus giving one to each strip of buffalo-skin, which each held taut, and ready to pull and wind about the stake, one of them being stationed at each of these. ‘ Mad Munroe was evidently a dangerous man in the estimation of his captors. The secret of the stakes was no longer a secret to poor Marion. She bowed her fair young head over her baby, and groaned aloud. The fifth brave drew his scalping-knife across the thongs that bound the wrists and ankles of the captive fast together, and, at that moment, the latter, gathering all his strength, sprung upward, the bandage still over his face. And afitioagh the remaining four braves jerked quick and hard at each strap, they were all hurled right and left; as was also the fifth, who would have buried his knife in the scout’s breast but for a signal from Red Wolf for him to desist, The chief then summoned half a dozen more warriors to assist in securing Mad Munroe to the stakes, The powerful young man and the five braves had now become mingled in a writhing, strug- ling mass; the fists of the enraged Munroe eing driven, with sledge-hammer force, in every direction. Two of the Apaches were knocked senseless, and’ murmurs of admiration came from those of the war-party who were seated upon their mustangs, Such an exhibition of strength and daring caused the savages to respect and admire their captive, as a warrior; and the death that await- ed him was, in their judgment, most befitting. The six braves now sprung upon Munroe, and he was hurled upon his back between the stakes; his limbs being drawn to a torturing tension toward the stakes, and the thongs securely tied to them. Thus, outstretched upon the ground, lay Madison Munroe, who knew that there he must die unless discovered and released by white friends, which was, to say the very least, highly improbable. hen, and not until then, was the buckskin bandage removed from his eyes, and Madison looked upon his wife and child! Who can picture his emotions? None but heartless demons could have seen them thus, and not have restored them to each other. ; Now came another signal from the chief. Then the child was taken away from th mo- ther, who sat speechle , Mad Munroe panted painfully from his recent violent exertions. mmm ee LL _ —_——_ —_e_—_—-——— eC ee ae eee eae Th The cries of the infant were agonizing to the hearts of both the parents. It was then cast down beside the father, and the braves sprung to their mustangs and re- mounted, ‘*Oh, Marion! exclaimed the wretched man; ‘‘we shall never meet again. Our child and I must die here!” His voice was hoarse and unnatural. mere sound of it was heartrending. The unhappy woman gave one oud and bit- ter cry, but the inhuman fiends forced her mus- tang away in haste, as shriek upon shriek burst from her lips for a few moments. ‘ Then silence reigned, except the sounds made by the horses’ hoofs upon the hard trampled plain, as the hideons horde sped toward Apacheria. Poor Marion had been mercifully deprived of all consciousness. But who can imagine her state of mind, after regaining her senses, and recalling the near past, upon finding herself alone, and in the pow- er of the monsters of the Apache mountains? And Mad Munroe, and that helpless babe were left as we have seen, to die of hunger, and thirst, and torturing heat; unless, in mercy, they might be trampled to death by some herd of bison on a stampede, My wife!” The CHAPTER IX. OLD ROCKY, ABOUT the same time that Mad Munroe started from Carp Johnston, to gallop down the creek to his cabin home, a horseman might have been seen riding Over the prairie that stretched south east of the Concho. It was evident that he was aiming to strike the latter river at a point some five miles north of the cabin at the confluence of the creek and the Concho. This equestrian was a man of some fifty years of age, with deeply bronzed and wrinkled face. His hair, long and black, was sprinkled with gray. e was of medium stature, and thin in flesh, but evidently of iron muscles; and his agility in the saddle was remarkable, for he was constantly turning, with the greatest rapidity, from one side to the other. His keen dark blue eyes seemed to pierce the dense shades ahead, while he nervous y ejected tobacco-juice from his mouth at short intervals afar over the flowers and grass, as he chewed the weed in the most vigorous manner. He was attired in buckskin breeches, rent and much camp-stained, as was also his blue woolen shirt, the wide collar of which, being loosely turned back from his neck, displayed a skin that Was tanned as dark almost as that of an Indian. His wide-brimmed sombrero of black felt was jammed carelessly on the back of his head, the at having the appearance of being occasional] used to wipe out his frying-pan, and fan his camp-fire, His eyes were deep set, the brows overhanging, his nose thin with flexible nostrils; and a sparse beard, that matched his hairin color and tex- ture, partly concealed his chin and lips, These, had they been clean shaved, would have re- vealed an iron firmness of will, and a most in- domitable spirit. Any one versed in reading character would at once have decided that this old prairie roamer— as he would undoubtedly be judged to be—was a true and honest man—one who could be de- pended upon to thé death in a good cause, And: this was true to the letter, for the old scout and ranger whom Wwe now introduce is none other than ‘‘Old Rocky,” one of the most celebrated Indian-fighters, and rangers of the plains of the great Southwest, a quarter of a century ago, and since that tije. Old Rocky was mounted upon a strongly-built and long-limbed horse, with large, intelligent eyes, like those of his master, and which seemed to be continually on the watch for danger, The animal was not remarkable for beauty any more than was its rider, but appeared we)] marked for speed and endurance, and was indeed most reliable in these respects. Had this not been the case, the old scout would not have been riding him on that most dangerous portion of the Texas border, where, at any moment, the life of the plain ranger might depend upon the fleetness and strength of his steed. Old Rocky was not in a hurry, as was very evident, for he did not use spur, and his bridle- reins hung loosely over the horn of the saddle. His arms consisted of a five-chambered Colt’s carbine, that carried a conical Ounce bullet; a pair of heavy revolvers of the same manufac- ture, and a huge bowie knife. His bullet-pouch, ‘belt, and bridle-reins, his saddle, and the outer seams of his breeches were trimmed with scalps. On the cantle of his saddle was the usual out- fit for camping, and the entire equipments be- spoke the old frontiersman, always ready for Fe emergency or danger. t has been before mentioned, that this scout and a friendly Caddo Indian, called Creeping Cat, were pards of Mad Munroe and that they had both been filled with no little concern since the young man had brought his wife to the Rio Concho. These two had mutually agreed that they would, at times, visit the cabin to make sure that all was well with Marion; and since the birth of the child, their visits had been more frequent, the beautiful wife of Madison having won the warm friendship of both these men. In- deed, either of them would, without hesitation, have braved death to serve her. At the time at which we introduce Old Rocky, he was on his way to meet his red pard, accord- ing to a prearranged plan, and both were to ride up the Concho on the day following and satisfy themselves that the Munroe family were safe, as well as to ate some game to Marion, The time of meeting had, however, been ap- pointed for the following morning’, and the old scout was, consequently, somewhat ahead of his time. Had their appointment been one day earlier, that is, on the morning of the day on which we meet Old Rocky, the incidents already recorded would have been less harrowing by far. But such was not to be. To any one acquainted with the old scout, it would have been at once apparent that he was very much out of sorts. Possibly he had a presentiment of the occur- rences, so horrible that were on the eve of tak- a Be se at the cabin of his friends. oubtless he regretted having promised to meet the Caddo, and would have preferred to continue his journey up the river that very night; but he would, even then, have arrived too late to be of any service to his friends. The expression upon his honest sun and fire tanned face as he gazed wistfully and anxiously up along the Rio Concho, indicated the emotions we have mentioned. Had he been gifted with the sight of the buzzard, and the wings of that bird as well, he could, by a short flight upward, have seen, afar to the south, a horde of Apache braves—a war-party—just as near to the tim- bered bottom of the Concho as he himself was, and headed for the same at a point within an arrow’s flight of the cabin of Mad Munroe, but on the opposite side of the river. But the old ranger was not agonized by this view, and, even had he been, the knowledge would not have ‘enabled him to reach the home of his friends in time to have been any assistance to those so much in need of it. Had his horse not been greatly fatigued by a long day’s travel beneath the hot sun, he might have left ‘“‘ sign,” and token of his presenco for the Caddo, and followed the dictates of his mind by proceeding up the shades of the river to the cabin; but, instead, he advanced directly to the bottom-timber, and, entering the same, soon reached a small ‘‘ open,” which was grass-grown and near to the river. The horse tore off the heads of the rank wild rye with avidity even before the bridle had been removed. But the scout manifested no fatigue, although he had been all day in the saddle. He Ng dismounted, and divested his steed of the equipments; ee to the animal in the same manner that he would to a human being, ‘‘ Lively Legs, old pard, we~uns air all hunk now—dang my dorgs ef we isn’t! Hyer’s a hefty mess o’ slam-up feed fer yer, an’ ther river air jist whisperin’ fer yer ter come an’ take a drink. ‘“T jist asservates thet I’m ready ter jine yer, an’ eager ter chaw grub. Ther Caddo won't creep this-a-ways ‘fere sun-up, I reckon, but I allers make it a pint ter ’rove a leetle before ther time greed cn. ‘Dang an’ double dang my ole heart ef T ain't been feelin’ billious ever since I friz my eepers onter the Concho timber! But T sw’ar | doesn’t know why. hes felt ther perzact way afore, an’ J allers noticed thet thar war a heap 0’ hellishness spattered ’round loose & few fleetin’ periods arter. ‘‘T hopes thar ain’t nothin’ crooked goin’ on up ther drink, an’ hit doesn’t ‘pear es though harm c’u’d come ter Mad Munroe’s purty caliker an’ leetle one quite so speedy; but yer can’t jist allers tell when a “‘ nor’ther’s” goin’ ter rip up things eend-ways, an’ freeze yer marrer-bones, ‘‘Howsomdever I allers noticed bit giner’ly strikes a pilgrim when he’s nigh er most wilted |