Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 444 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

' ‘ | mY + | nf “~~ a ' ¢ iv 4 re ‘. Lv om ‘itl bs <3 7 > Bae oy ‘ . . erm C 4 ay ‘ ¥ ' - hh! | _- . gun and voice was hanging in the hills—a horse- wan shot from the shadowy pass out into the open plain that stretched away in an apparent unbrokea expanse toward the east, and like a bird on the wing glided along with wonderful rapidity. he horseman is a yo man—a boy not over eighteen. His form is lithe, supple and sinewy as a young panther, Long brown hair floats out » from beneath a white sombrero, Dark-gray eyes fairly glow with a light that is reflected from the depth of a fearless heart. The smooth, bronzed face, the half-parted lips wreathed with wa half-smile, and, in fact, every feature, and the very poise of the head, and the expression of the face, are indicative of a love of adventure—the spirit of a young dare-devil. With the exception of his hat, the boy is dressed in a full suit of buckskin, with fringed jeggins, beaded moccasins, and a hunting-shirt wrought in afanciful style. Around his slender form is a belt filled with cartridges. At his back is slung a rifle, while at his saddle-bow hangs a revolver. The boy is fleeing from danger—from a score of mounted Cheyenne Indians, who, like so many demons, suddenly hurst from the canyon on the trail of the youth, brandishing their tomahawks and uttering fiendish yells. They do mot ride together nor abreast, but string out along the plain in ‘‘ Indian file.” From beneath their horses’ hoofs clouds of dust burst at every bound, and rising on the air, mingle in one long line reaching back to the hills like a shadowy serpent. s they appear from the shadows of the pass the fugitive’s horse settles closer to the ground, stretches out his neck, and seems to almost re- double his wonderful speed. cages bound car- ries his young rider further and further from danger. oe Conscious of the superior speed of his horse, young dare-devil, ever and anon, glances back over his shoulder, waves his sombrero above his head, and shouts back defiance to the foe. Soon a mile separates the boy from the fore- most Indian, when he reins in his animal to a walk, and deliberately permits him to crop the grass as he moves along. Half-turning in his saddle the young plainsman keeps his eye upon the foe, a grim smile upon hi face. The red-skins are still strung out along the plain for over half a mile and as the leader draws near the boy unslings his rifle, stops his horse and dismounts. Then, resting the weapon in the hollow of his saddle he takes a steady aim 8 ee ee Sanne oT _—_-_- reo ass ee ee | | Little Buckskin, the Young Prairie Centaur. ‘* You’re jesting, boy!” ‘Well, if you don’t take my word for it, you’ll have to take the consequences. [I’m no great shakes of a liar, strangers, and—” ‘* Well, who are you, anyhow?” ‘¢ Buckskin Phil,” was the boy’s reply. “Ts that a fact? Hurrah! Billy!” exclaimed the amateurs. ‘* Well, what will it be?’ demanded Little Buckskin, for he this fearless boy was; “‘ flee or fight? The red-skins are not faraway. I see you’re all well-armed, and if you want to stand the reds a racket Vl stay by you, for you won’t have time to pack up and git away too.” ‘* Then we'll fight,” said the spokesman of the amateurs, “if there is any show for victory, but if there are a million Indians, as you say, seems to me it will be folly to attempt to meet them.” ‘We can whip ’em, boys, I know,” declared Buckskin, leaping from his saddle; ‘‘ foller me to the top of the bluff and feast your eyes on the hair-bangers of the prairies!” Hastily ascending the bluff, they beheld the savages even closer than Little Buckskin had supposed they were. ‘Great Moses!” burst from the lips of one of the amateurs, as he beheld the startling sight. Little Buckskin burst into a peal of laughter. ‘*You folks’ve never been under fire, have you?” he observed, ‘‘ Never, I freely and frankly admit,” replied one of the amateurs. : ** Well, you want to keep cool, take a careful aim, and I'll bet we give them gallinippers a loud ole surprise-party.” ‘*They’re five to one, Buckskin,” said one of the hunters. ‘Don’t care if they are; all we’ve got to do is to put one well-directed broadside into their systems, and you'll see the others turn tail and scratch mountainward like so many coyotes. You can’t foolish me on the sand of a red-skin. They think I’m here all alone. They chased me here clear over from the mountains. But now, strangers, git ready. Tl draw on the fifth red- skin back in the line, and you next to me take the fourth, and the next the third, and so on, so as not to waste two bullets on one red-skin. Now, all git ready and shoot to spoil! Steady— aim—fire!” On the instant the five rifles rung out with a crash, and three savages tumbled from their animals, while the pony of a fourth one went own. A yell burst from the lips of Little Buckskin, at the red-skin, but the latter seeing his move- | and springing up into plain view of the Chey- ments drops forward upon his mustang’s neck. But little the boy cares for that! He presses the trigger and the Indian’s horse drops in his tracks throwing his rider, who performs a somerset in the air. Then remounting the boy gallops on. The unhorsed savage gathers up his effects and 4s taken on behind the next in the band, and the chase continues. ' But, at the rate with which the boy gains upon the foe, nothing save accident or superior en- durance on the part of the savages’ horses, can endanger his life. Of these the youth has no fear. On the contrary, he seems to court the danger and excitement of that wild ride for hfe. iles are thus traversed, and fully two miles separate the pursuers and pursued, when the tops of a belt of trees bordering on Panther creek, a tributary of the Arkansas, burst suddenly on the boy’s view. The valley is deep down in the lain and the bluffs are abrupt and precipitous, ut, never halting, the reckless young horseman plunges down the declivity. He has scarcely ained the valley when his ears are greeted by fhe sound of voices. Looking to the left he discovers a party of four white men encamped under a cluster of trees. They are dressed in the garb of hunters, though the boy sees at a glance that they are but amateurs. And seeing further that they areun- aware of approaching danger, he turns his horse and rides into their camp, demanding as he reins _ jn his steed: ‘+ Hullo! is this an outlaw camp?” ‘‘No; are you hunting friends?” was the face- ‘tious reply of the eldest of the quartette of young - Jumnters ‘‘T’m in need of friends’bout now,” replied the wider. ~ Why so? What's wrong? I see you’ve been viding pretty hard.” “J should trill that I had, stranger, and I wather think you fellers ’d better be dustin’ out of this if you don’t want your hair banged.” “What do you mean?” “4 million Ingins are comin’ over the plain a- - boemin’ this holy, sanctified minute. eis ‘ ¥ , ennes, he sai “Git up here, boys, and show yourselves, and we'll scare the stuffin’ out o’ them other red- skins—they’ll think we’re a regiment.” Quickly the four amateurs leaped bank, and as the boy had predicted, the foe drew rein, turned anid hurried out of range of the white men’s rifles, ‘That'll satisfy them critters for to-day,” as- sured Little Buckskin. ‘‘ They got terribly foolished trailin’ over here; they run against a snag—corked themselves, the musty-skinned coyotes! But say, boys! You slam in lead real eat | hke—should figger that you was the clear mettle, put up for Western trade. Now, what might your names be, strangers?” ‘“My name,” answered the eldest of the party, ‘‘ig Robert Malvern—Bob, for short. This is Deck Robbins, this Clark Lewis, and this Fred Lawrence—all out for aseason of recreation and sport.” ar Well, Bob, Dick, Lewis and Fred,” said the jolly boy plainsman, ‘‘ I’m tremendous glad to meet you. I like sport myself, and if one fel- lers’ll jist drop down to my shebang, I'll take pains and pleasure to see that you have all the fun you want. The trappin’ season has- n’t quite opened yet, and so I'll have a week or upon the _two to amble around and stir up the hor- — ee nets.” ‘‘ My dear sir,” declared Bob Malvern, ‘‘ we've been headed for your quarters a week or more. We heard of you two hundred miles from here, and conclud Pi were the chap we wanted to show us around,” _“*T can do it, boys,” returned Buckskin; ‘‘ and since the Ingins are on a little rampage, we'll recreate a-fightin’ reds and take our fun in huntin’ deer an’ elk in the hills and buffalo on the plain.” , “Ra , Buffalo,” demanded Deck Rollins, ‘‘if you call fightin’ red-skins recreation, what the dickens do you call serious work?” ‘““Wrestlin’ with a cyclone, or gittin’ out of | bein’ bit, is what I a den of pole-cats without calldanger. But say, them Ingins have all de- parted, and we'd as well pack up and be movin’. . y ' hey * ’ P ‘ » Pe” ot \ * ”, ‘ a .. “ ty \ ay 7 Pe : t—_ ' It’s twenty miles to my cabin, and it’s now a mile past noon.” So saying, they all returned to the valley, when the amateurs proceeded to pack up their ‘‘traps,” and in a very short time the five were mounted and riding down the valley, Robert Malvern—the leader of his party—two years before we introduce him, had wooed and won Augusta Darre, a beautiful girl, the daugh- ter of a Kentucky gentleman of the ‘‘ old school.” She was gentle and refined, and untainted with the peace against all ‘‘ Northern” men which many a Southern man nursed and nurtur- ed until it developed into not infrequent violent expressions and acts, Of this class was Colonel Darre, the father of Augusta. Finding that she had given her affections to young Malvern, who came from a Northern State, he became both cruel and aggressive, and on the occasion of the last meeting of the ‘lovers, he had suddenly a peared on the scene, and grosely insulting the oung man, ordered him off the place, and for- ade Augusta ever again to receive the young ‘**'Yankee.” _ High-spirited and brave enough not to brook insult or wrong from any man, he yet, for Au- gusta’s sake, refrained from. resentment, and passed from the grounds. at was his last sight of his betrothed. n leaving the place Robert had encountered Paul Dumont, a neighboring planter and the suitor for Augusta’s band favored by Colonel Darre. Dumont also insults the young man, and gets very severely punished for his inso- lence—Robert repeatedly knocking him down until he begs for mercy. He-vows the direst vengeance on Robert, threatening to have bis hife for the punishment inflicted. ; All this was two years gone, and proceeding to his Northern home, Robert had not only not heard from bis beloved, but had grown to think her untrue to him, and so she became, to his mind, a kind of living, expressionless sorrow, to drown which he sought the excitement of this trip to the West. His face was now bronzed by the sun and wind of the prairie, and a heay brown mustache gave a mature look to his handsome face. His companions were all self—in fact, mere boys—F'red youngest, being but eighteen. To the amateurs Little Buckskin, the Young Centaur of the Prairie, Bi himself fully up to their expectations. He was not only brave and daring, but a jolly, jovial spirit, such as only the wild West could produce. As they rode along Bob Malvern asked: ‘‘ Buckskin, what is your true name, and how long have you been a hunter and trapper?” ‘““My name’s Phil Barker, and I’ve been a trapper ever since I can remember, My pa- rents died when I was a kid, and a friend of father’s took me to raise. He was a hunter and trapper, and built the cabin where I still ve, ‘‘ Then you have no education?—never attend- ed school?” ‘Never went to school; but Moses! it?’d break your heart to hear me read, see me write, and observe me figger wp the cost of a season’s hunt, or figger down the cost of’a year’s supplies. Then you see I have another source of collats In doin’ scoutin’ work for the ranchmen, an’ in keepin’ an eye open for the stage an’ express companies. This Ido when the huntin’ season’s out. ‘Tt’s a wonder the Indians haven’t killed you before this,” observed Malvern. ‘Me and the red-skins have been as thick as fleas on a sick rabbit all along till lately. They stole a number of hosses from some mining pros- ctors, and I led the trail in pursuit of them. We got the hosses, but had to salivate three red- skins, so now they’re no longer my chums. expect they'll bang my hair if they git fingers into it. | Thus the conversation ran on, as mile after mile was passed over. All the while the ama- teurs noticed that the Young Centaur’s eyes were constantly on the watch. Not for a single moment did he seem to forget himself in thus looking out for danger. Vigilance was one of the very elements of his nature. The sun had sunk behind the mountain range when the purty came in sight of the Lor Lodge, as Buckskin’s cabin was called. And it was still light when they dismounted near the cabin, unpacked and unsaddled their horses and tethered them to grass. This done, led the way to his legs ‘he door stood partly open, just as had left it. Pushing it entirely open he entered the room, and was fol- lowed by his four friends. | ‘‘ Been somebody here since I left,” was the ounger than him- awrence, the 7 7 11y ef * tay