Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 497 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

—— Ee — ** . ” , * —"e & S ae —_ ote ~ - FS - “ail - . ee ’ - a, &; | ' Buck Taylor, King’ of the they fell short, for the herd, alarmed by the wild snort and bounds of the roan king, wheeled quickly and darted away like the wind. The roan and the white mare, however, could not fly, for both had been dragged to earth by the lariats, the first with twoover his neck, which kept him midway between two trees, The red-skins uttered shouts of triumph and started to descend from their perch, when, suddenly, another wild shout was heard. It came from the lips of Buck Tuylor, and it was followed by a rifle-shot. Following the shdt came a wild death-cry and afall, as the Comanche chief fell from the limb to the ground, right under the hoofs of the stallion. One of the other red-skins sprung’ to the round from his lofty hight, to fly, but he fell eavily and remained where he had fallen, half stunned, while his comrade quickly man- aged to slide down and attempted to kill the daring young Ranger with an arrow from his ready bow. It was well intended, but missed the body and sunk in the arm to the bone, Tearing the arrow from his arm Buck Taylor ran upon the Comanche, firing his revolver as he advanced. His aim was true and the Comanche fell with a bullet in his brain. In the mean time, the two captured horses had ceased their struggles for the lariats had choked them down, Springing to the side of the roan, Buck Taylor hoppled him with wonderful quickness and agility, after which he slipped the lariat ov r his head in the shape of a halter. Then he sprung quickly to the mare and hoppled her, also making a headstall for her. it was but the work of a few minutes, and he was congratulating himself upon his grand success, for both horses were now reviving from their choking, when an arrow suddenly whizzed by his head, grazing his ear, CHAPTER VI. THE RANGER’S LUCK. WHEN the arrow first whizzed by Buck Tay- lor’s head, his first thought was that there were ether red-skins about than those he had seen, and who bad been pursuing the herd; but a lance, as he sprang to cover showed him that t was one of the trio, he who had risked a jump from the tree. He saw that the Indian was lying upon the ound, and had fired the arrow at him, but ad no other, for he clutched the bow in one hand and his knife in the other. Buck was always merciful, for no brave man should be otherwise. The red-skin was in his power, and so he advanced boldly toward him, at the same time replacing his revolver in his belt. . He had learned to speak the Comanche tongue pretty well, while a cowboy, and so in ‘fact he had, when a boy of twelve, been a cap- tive of the Comanche tribe for some months, so he said in the tongue of the Indian: » “Comanche brave is in a bad fix,” The Indian nodded. ** Much burt?” The red-skin pointed to his leg and answered: ** Leg broken.” ‘* Ah! that is very bad.” . **Why don’t pale-face brave kill Mad Wolf?” “T never hit a fellow when he’s down, pard,” replied Buck in English, and then he added in the Comanche tongue. / T would not kill a wounded foe. Come, let me see about your leg.” The red-skin was suspicious, and certainly expected to die; but Buck Taylor bent over him and examined his leg. It was broken, just above the knee, and a bad fracture. ‘‘ Where are your people?” he asked. “Far away. **T don’t believe you, but I'll let you go.” The red-skin looked surprised, while the horses were now struggling to rise, having recovered from, their severe choking by the lariats. _ Buek watched them a minute, to see that they could not get loose, and then he said: 1 fix your leg as best I can, Comanche, and in the morning you can have your horse and go back to your people, for Pll be ready to light out by that time.” h th real humanity in his heart he first looked to the comfort of the red-skin, setting his | po Sap best he could, and binding it around with ps cut from the costume of the other Coman- ches, and bracing it with bark splints which he cut with his knife for the purpose. It was a painful operation, to say the least; —— oe but the red-skin did not utter a groan when fin- | ished, Buck raised him in his strong arms, and | started for the red-skin camp, His great strength did not give out, and he reached the camp and placed the red-skin in a comfortable position, saying, when all was done: ** Now, red-skin, I must see that you'll be here when I get back; so will leave a guard over vou. Watch him, dog!” Vermifuge squatted near the red-skin, and Buck started at a brisk walk back for the cap- tive horses. The moon had risen, and being at its full, made all as bright as day, almost, and he saw the horses were where he had left them. He had hoppled them with slip-knots, and so that they could not hurt themselves; and feeling their efforts to rise fruitless, they lay sullen and quiet. ‘*T must get rid of these fellows first,” and he pointed to the two dead red-skins; ‘‘so here goes!” and with a skill that showed it was not his first experience in the work, he scalped the two braves, while he confessed to himself: ‘* Talways think thisis brutal, but then an In- dian 1s never dead until he is scalped. Then aloud: ‘* And now to bury ’em!” He dragged the bodies to the soft earth under the river-bank, and quickly dug a shallow rave, into which he rolled the # less dead. ver the grave he threw piles of brush and stone, to keep the wolves away. Then he once more approached the roan stallion. ‘‘Guess Dll give you a try first,” he mut- tered, Quick as a flash he removed the hopples and sprung upon the back of the startled king of the herd. With a wild snort and a bound the roan was upon his feet, and shot away like an arrow from a bow, He headed straight out of the timber, reached the prairie, and sped along like the wind. ‘* This horse fairly flies! Oh, he’s the horse for me!” cried the exultant rider, Letting him run for half a mile, Buck began te draw upon the stall lines. The horse took it furiously, and the struggle began between man and beast. ith wild snorts of rage, plunging, leaping, squatting, bucking, and biting at the leather leggings of his rider, the wild roan sought to throw him, or tear him from his back; but the young Ranger had won thename of ‘* Buck” from just such splendid riding as was then de- manded, and he kept bis seat while he constantly endeavored to show the maddened brute that he was his master. Another run, another stop, and the same tac- tics were gone through, until at last, even the king of the prairies was compelled to yield to the superior will of the man.. 3 And when he did yield, he did it gracefully, and was turned back by his rider and taken to the timber. Coming near the gray mare, he once more broke forth with fury, to try and show that he was still untamed; but the attempt was fruit- less, for he was again forced to yield. Going up to where he had left his own horse, he led the animal to the Indian camp, the prai- rie king once more trying to ‘‘ show off” when he beheld Snakeroot, but with the result of his last: attempt—to be completely subdued. Leaving both horses in the -eanyon, and again hoppling the stallion, Buck started after the gray mare. She glared viciously at him, for, having seen her lord a captive and slave, she knew what was coming. A moment more and ber feet were freed from me hs ara and the horsebreaker was upon her ck, A few wild prunges she made, a neigh of anger, and then she became quiet. ‘Ah, my beauty, you have been ‘ridden be- fore. You have escaped from some one and joined the herd; but you’re a fine one and no mistake,” and her captor turned the head of the now obedient animal toward his camp, or rather the camp of the red-skins, ‘The mare certainly had been ridden before, and was not born wild on the prairies, for she was remarkably obedient, though full of spirit and evidently enraged at her capture and mas- tery. / Again at the camp, Buck staked the mare out inthe canyon with his own and the Indians’ horses, and left the roan king still in shackles, “The king will give me another tussle in the morning, for he is not yet certain I’m boss,” was Buck’s conclusion. ‘ Cowboys. The Comanche still lay where Buck had left him, Vermifuge still on guard. Building a fire, the young Ranger soon cooked | supper getting a liberal supply for his prisoner, LLL LLL LLL LLL LL ALLL LRA LLL LLL LLL CL Lt, ett and the dog as well. The Comanche ate his supper with relish, though he was without doubt. suffering greatly with his broken leg; and as he ate, Buck talked. ‘* Tf I take you with me, the bore will quickly end your life, and as you are in hard luck with a broken leg, I don’t wish that. “Then you have to mourn for your two friends and the loss of the roan king, and -alto- gether you’re not happy; so I'll let you go, as I promised,” Taking more time after supper to re-dress the Chinanche’s leg, Buck made him a bed, fixed. him as comfortably as possible, and then spread his own blankets. ‘* Now, Vermifuge, it’s your place to watch, for I’ve had a hard day of it; so go up yonder on the bank and plant yourself.” The intelligent dog at once obeyed, while the young Ranger returned to his blankets and was soon fast asleep. CHAPTER VII. CAUSE FOR ALARM, THE Ranger had been asleep perhaps an hour, when he was awakened by a touch. | Buck, like all men whose lives are in danger cay and night, awoke instantly. a e saw that it was Vermifuge that had awakened him, and he at once arose, while the dog ran back to his post, uck quickly followed the intelligent brute up the bank, and he at once discovered that there was cause for alarm. There, riding slowly along through the timber, and now and then in open spaces where the moonlight fell full upon them, were a number of horsemen, ‘** Injuns,” said Buck, laconically. The dog "Seach up at him with a look that plainly said: **T told you so.” They were not three hundred feet away, and. riding along the trail toward the ford. Buck counted them. There were twenty-seven. ‘* Just twenty-seven more Injuns than I want to see,” he muttered, He knew full well his danger. His doz he could trust, but the neighing of one of the horses in the canyon, at the presence of the others, would betray him. Then, too, if the Comanche suspected that his friends were near, he might give a cry for them to come to his aid. So Buck crouched there on the top of the bank and waited, ; He could almost feel his heart beat, for if dis- eovered, though he might escape, he might lose his horses, and to give up the rcan king would be a terrible blow to him. | So he was very anxious and gave a deep sig of relief when he saw the horsemen disappear like shadows in the distance. Listening he heard their horses splashing in the water, when they rode in to give them a drink, and he feared that they might go into camp there, so he set out on foot to dianavers But he soon found that they had ridden on, and feeling greatly relieved he went back to his camp. He saw that the Comanche was awake, and his manner showed that he knew something had wa Gg 95 s Buck did not speak, the Indian said: ‘‘Mad Wolf hear many braves go by, and splash in river, “Thought he would call and braves come to Mad Wolf and kill white man.” It’s lucky for you, you didn’t call, for if those soldiers had come here they would have hanged you. . ‘tI didn’t want you hanged, so I kept qniet,” said Buck. The Indian was taken aback, for he sup cs was wrong, and that the horsemen were sol- iers. After a moment he said: . ‘*My white brother good man,” Buck laughed, and leaving Vermifuge on guard once more returned to bis blankets, ‘No watch?” said Mad Wolf. ‘“ My dog is on guard.” The Indian gave a grunt and said no more. It was very evident that he did not like the dog. Phe young Ranger awoke at dawn, went upon the bank and took a close survey of the my roundings, and then returmed and a fire cook breakfast. . | pooks “comic