Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 444 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

Little Buckskin, the Young Prairie Centaur. yyouth’s remark the moment he entered the cab- in; ‘‘but then my latch-string’s always out to friends.” ‘*That seems to be a custom of the country,” said Malvern. ‘* Yes, and that is a customer |” The cabin was divided into two rooms, and as Little Buckskin uttered these words he point- ed toward the partition door in which had sud- denly appeared a tall Cheyenne savage, hideous in war-paint. At the same instant a couch of skins in one corner of the room was flung aside and three more savages confronted the startled Little Buckskin and his guests! And to still add to their surprise and terror, two more painted de- mons sprung from behind the door and aligned themselves with their friends—each and all clutching a tomahawk in his hand ready for bloody work. The savage first discovered still stood in the door behind his five companions, towering almost a head above them, his face wearing a strange, half-comical expression. Little Buckskin saw at a glance that they were there for mischief, yet no sign of fear or surprise was depicted upon his face. His friends were fairly startled, but seeing the outward calmness and apparent indifference of Buckskin, ‘they were at loss to understand what was to be expected. ‘Ugh!” grunted the savage in the door, as the boy hunter pointed toward him and addressed him as above. ‘“‘ Ingins catch pale-face like pale- face catch beaver!’ . ‘¢ Well, that sounds like a threat, don’t it?” was the boy’s response, **'You bet! e come git ecto scalp,” de- ¢clared one of the Indians, who had taken a posi- ‘tion in the line, and spoke English perfectly. By this remark the amateurs saw that it would now be impossible to avert a bloody en- counter. With hands upon their revolvers, ‘they watched every movement of the foe—wait- ing only for a word from their young leader to act. ; ‘*T tell you what, red-skins, itll break your hearts to bang our hair. You can see we’re ten- der boys,” Buckskin went on, ‘‘ and it’s no honor for big warriors to kill a lot of children. Still, if you’re determined on a rumpus—bound to cork yourselves, you'll find you’ve struck the liveliest outfit that ever landed in these parts,” ‘* Pale-face boy big talk,” replied a savage. ‘* Yes, and it'll melt you into tears to see how straight we can shoot,” Buckskin retorted; ‘*and the very instant one of you attempts to raise a hatchet, we'll all plug you. Don’t forget it This last remark was intended more for the ears Of his four young friends than the savages; and to let the brave boy understand that he caught his meaning, Bob Maiyern echoed: ‘Yes; the first attempt to Yaise a tomahawk will be the signal for us to shoot,” ‘Oh, I see, red-skins,” Buckskin continued, ‘‘that you’re all broke up—surprised. You ex- pected I'd be back here alone—didn’t estimate I’d return with four young buck cyclones, did ye? Didn’t know that my medicine is good, and that—” ; ; He did not finish the sentence, for at this mo- ment the savage inthe door behind the five sud- denly raised his tomahawk as if to strike, ands almost at the same instant, Buckskin and hi, four friends whipped out their revolvers; there was a flash of five tongues of fire, a sudden pent- up crash of firearms teat with yells, groans and the fall of human bodies, * CHAPTER II. A QUEER OLD CUSTOMER, Quick almost as the lightning’s flash, the five whites had drawn their revolvers and fired, and with the crash of their weapons four of the sav- ages sunk down lifeless, while the other two, terror-stricken, leaped through the open door and darted away into the timber like frightened deer. Little Buckskin followed them a few paces outside, sent a shot or two after them and then went back to the cabin. ‘‘ Well, boys, them red-skins corked them- selves, didn’t they?” the lad said, with an air of triumph. c . ‘‘T should say they had made a big mistake,” replied Malvern: ‘‘and I declare it turned out better than I had dared to hope for—not one of us even scratched.” ‘“We got asplendid scald on that rise- party,” exclaimed Buckskin. ‘‘ I was afraid we wouldn’t all catch on together, but soon as you spoke I seen you'd the idea, Boys, you get in like old Bunker Hill veterans. Say, now, how is this for a reception at Lone Lodge?” —— eee - ee mee ee ee ee ‘*T rather regard it as a kind of surprise-par- ty, though I suppose it is another custom of the border,” pépliad. ‘Malvern. ‘* Boys, true as I live, I never raised my hand against a Ingin until yesterday,” declared the young plainsman. ‘‘I never had any desire to take human life—no, nor that of a beast or bird unless it was necessary. But I see very clearly now that [ve got my foot into an Ingin ruc- tion, an’ there’s goin’ to be more blood spilt be- fore the thing’s settled. But, boys, we've got to remove them dead pilgrims and make some kind of ’rangements for the night. Them two that escaped may return with the hull Cheyenne nation and pester us considerable. Sav, thar’s an old open cache out here, and we'll a drop those ies into that and shovel some dirt over ’em, an’ that’ll be doin’ the square thing by them.” ‘ So saying, they began the removal of the dead. hree bodies had been carried out and placed in the old cache. The fourth savage was the one that had first made his presence in the cabin known—he who had stood in the doorway of the partition and had precipitated the conflict by raising his tomahawk. e had fallen back into the adjacent room, and lay stretched at full length on his back. our of the whites lifted the body and started for the hole. They had passed out at the cabin door and were approaching the cache, when the form of the savage suddenly became possessed of life, and with a violent writhing of the body, tore loose from the grasp of the pall-bearers, fell to the ground, and then rising to a sitting posture, looked up into the faces of the boys, and, in a serio-comic tone, said, in good English: “T kick on this business,” ‘‘ A white man, by the great Scott!” exclaim- ed Rollins. ‘‘ A renegade, and a sweet bird he is!” added Little Buckskin. The Indian burst into a peal of rollicking ‘Say, rosewood,” cried Buckskin, ss you've corked yourself, haven’t you?” ‘Tm o poe to any sich proceedings as this,” renohtoat e renegade, swinging his long arms in the air; ‘‘ if I can’t have decent burial I don’t want any. Do you young vandals think ’m go- in’ to be chucked into a hole like that with them p’izen red-skins?” ‘* Birds of a feather ought to be buried to- gether,” decided Buckskin, ‘Say, Bucksie, wae retorted the renegade, turning and shaking his long, bony finger in the boy’s face, ‘‘you’re a tender youth with a fucher before you, but you want to feel your way keerfully, or you'll be cut off in your prime. Now you think ’m dead, don’t you? You ex- pected to cram me into that hole with them In- gins, didn’t you? You supposed a bullet had done its gory work for me—you think I’m wounded—that I’m chantin’ my death-song—but Tm not.” ‘¢T ruther think you’re a jim-jammed renegade that’s tryin’ to’possum out of a bad job,” re- sponded Little Buckskin. ‘““T deny the allegation—I demur—I kick!” re- plied the renegade; ‘‘ but say, do any of you folks chaw tobakker?” ft ‘What monumental cheek!” exclaimed Buck- skin. ‘It’s all right; I don’t chew; but I must have a smoke,” announced the renegade, and with the utmost coolness the queer customer took from an inner pocket in his calico shirt an old pipe and bag of tobacco, filled and lit the pipe and began puffing away, ever and anon removin the stem from his lips and blowing little rings o smoke into the air, at the same time winking ludicrously at the astonished Buckskin and his companions, Such an exhibition of deliberate impudence was both amusing and exasperating, but finally it occurred to the young hunter that his per- formances might only for the purpose of gaining time sufficient to enable the two red- skins who had escaped to return with succor, and so he made up his mind to bring matters to a close, and said: ‘‘ See here, you lambasted old rooster, I think we'll have to serve you as we did them other three Ingins and git rid 0’ you.” ‘‘Oh, now, Bucksie,” protested the renegade, ‘‘T see you're gittin’ in earnest, and I'll bet you my scalp against a square meal 0’ roast venison, jerked buffalo and corn-pone, that I killed as many 0’ them Ingin accordin to my number as you fellers.” ‘‘What you tryin’ to give us now?” asked Buckskin, ‘s . ** Bible facts, my kid! If you’llexamine them three Ingins’ heads you'll find one o’ them liar, merry twinkle in his small, gray e OS. TOT aD NR IY bu’sted behind! You can have my scalp if it — isn’t so.” ‘All right: Pll look about that,” declared Buckskin, and turning, he leay, -d down into the pit. True enough the head of oneof the savages was split to the neck! Ns another mark of violence was upon him. ‘* By the ‘lasting torments! there is a bu’sted- head Ingin there!” he exclaimed, as he came back; *‘so you’re a double-geared traitor, eh?” | ‘*Boy, you’re onreasonable,” responded the renegade; ‘*hearken tothe voice of Long Gourd, the Cheyenne brave, ai)d he will tell you why he slew that Cheyenne, ‘Three long months ago I entered the village ¢? the Cheyennes and made known my burnin’ desire to become an Ingin warrior. The tribe of Spotted Elk was runnin’ down at the heel pretty badly, so they were only — too glad to adopt a few blosdy warriors, and | was admitted. They put me through a solemn ceremony, painted me and dressed me, and end- ~— ed the ceremony by namin’ me Long Gourd. If I do say it myself, I made a handsome, dashin’ warrior—”’ “Oh, boys!” interrupted Buckskin; ‘hear that! .It breaks my heart,” ‘Keep quiet till [ git through, will ak or ye might git yer head broke,” warned the ae Indian, a broad smile overspreading his pain bedaubed face. ‘‘ As I war gorin’ to say, my \ splendid appearance had its effect on the fair sex 0’ the village, and it wa’n’t long till I see’d I'd made a mash on Clinging Vine, the royal rincess o’ the tribe. Now, it happened that - tump-Tail Bear, that Ingin with the bu’sted noggin’ in that hole right there, had long been sweet on Vine, the princess, and so he got jeal- ous 0’ me, and three times has he tried to kill me. I knew one or the t’other ’d have to go un- der, and to-day when volunteers war called for to come here, and capture the Little Buckskin, Stump-Tail war the first to volunteer, and soon as I found he war comin’ I volunteered, too, de- termined to lay him out the fu’st chance I got. That chance I found when we braves stood face to face with you folks, When I see’d that you war to shoot when the fu’st hatchet was raised I raised the hatchet and fetched Stump-Tai one, and then dropped before your revolvers cracked. And I lay still for fear while you fel lers were hot-excited you’d baste me. Now, you’ve my story. In other words—in the classic pan gnage 0’ the red-man—Long Gourd has spo-. en ‘* And I think,” added Buckskin, * that Lon Gourd has lied. Vl bet you killed your frien accidentally. But we've talked long enough about this. It’ll soon be night, and we’ve got to bring up our horses, boys, or the sneak ngins ll be sure to steal them before morning.. Bob if so walk old Long Gourd into the cabin and hold a pistol at his head till we git back, the rest — of us ‘ll get in the horses,” ‘* All right,” assented Bob, drawin volver; ‘about, face, Mr. Gourd! march!” Turning with the most respectful obedience, the renegade marched with a ony military step into the cabin, Then, facing Bob, who had ta- ken a position in the door, he said, in a tone en- tirely different from that in which he had hith- erto spoken: “Young man, I'll be bumfusticated if I ar’n’t surprised at that boy, Buckskin. He’s sharp as a cactus, but my paint and feathers are too thick for him. Say, while he’s gone I’m goin’ to wash off this dirt and change my rig, and I'll bet you my interest in Jericho he’ll go out around the house and kick himself when he sees me. Here’s a pail of water, and heré’s a wash-basin that old Noah used in the Ark, and—here goes!” So saying, he tore off his feathered kead-gear his bear-claw necklace, and his fanciful-figured calico shirt. Underneath the latter was a buck. skin hunting-shirt, pie, but rather neat, Filling the wash-basin, he began a vigorous rubbing of his face and neck, and in a few min- utes the streaks and en of dirt and paint had disappeared, revealing the natural features of — the man. He used his discarded calico shirt for _ a towel, combed out his thin, scraggy locks with his fingers, donned a coon-skin cap that hung on a peg on the wall, and was then ready for the aha of Buckskin. Bob Malvern would never have known or be- | lieved that the man now before him and Long _ Gourd were one and the same individual had he not seen him soe the metamorphosis. He — seemed all of six inches taller, more angular and ungainly, while the expression of his face had been tlatgtlbe Sh Hep 305 te ‘There was a pecu- _ and — - q « i ‘ his re- forward, a bland smile surrounding his unu mouth.