Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 520 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

10 But, worst of all, there were several prisoners, and among them a little golden-bhaired, blue- eyed girl hardly more than eight years of age. ‘*Poor little girl! poor men,” murmured Buckskin Bill, and he walked away to the Medi- cine Tepee, his heart bleeding for the captives. CHAPTER XVIII, THE MEETING. Tue story of the raid of Fire Eyes and his warriors, soon became known through the Comanche village. They had heard of a train that was going across the plains to the settlements, and with it were several settlers and their families, The Comanches had laid in ambush for the train and attacked it at an unguarded mo- ment. But though they had captured it, and many prisoners, a party of cavalry the next day had surprised them and they had only managed to bring off their booty, which they had placed upon the captured mules, and three prisoners, two of them teamsters, and one a little girl. The Comanches were happy over their par- tial success, and furious because they had not saved all, while they had to mourn the loss of some of their best warriors, and yet could get a balm for their sorrows in killing two of their captives, for the little girl was to be raised in the Indian camp as the adopted child of Fire Eyes, The two men seemed to feel there was no hope for themselves as to their fate; but, brave as they were the cruel tortures of the Comanches in putting them to death caused them to fill the air with wild shrieks of anguish, and Buckskin Bill, who had crept away to his buffaio-robe in the tepee, covered his ears with his hands to shut out the appalling sounds. It was along time before Buckskin Bill got an opportunity to speak with the little captive, for he kept away from her. This the Indians noticed, and it pleased them to see that he did not seem ‘to care for her, and Fire Eyes confidentially remarked to Death- Killer: : ‘‘The Red Scalp is a good Comanche. ‘‘ He will be a great chief some day.” But one day an opportunity offered for Buck- skin Bill to speak to the little captive. Her civilized attire had been changed for Ttndian toggery, and she was seated upon the banks of a small brook fishing, when Buckskin Bill, who was gathering herbs, with Death- parr? lying in the shade not far distant, spied er, She looked up as a buckskin-clad form ap- proached her, believing it to be an Indian, and she said in her childish way, as she looked curi- ously at him: ‘* Tt’s a red-headed Indian.” **No, [am not an Indian, little girl, but white e yourself, and also a captive,” said Buckskin ill. ‘Ah! [’'m so glad! We'll be good friends, won't us, for I have no one here I care for.” Buckskin Bill warned her to sit down and keep quiet, and seating himself near her, he asked: * What is your name?” ‘*Wrances Willard, but they call me Frankie at home, while these horrid Intlians call me Snow Bird. ‘It’s a pretty name for an Indian girl, but I like to be called Frankie.” ‘* And where did you live?” ‘‘In Texas, sir, and we were going to the Indian Territory, where my father was to teach school, when the Indians attacked our train,” ‘* Were your parents killed?” ‘* No, sir; for the soldiers came and run the Indians off; but the big chief, my Indian father carried me with him, although I screamed an scratched him all l could,” ““ Well, Frankie, [ don’t dare talk to you; but ~ IT wish you to feel Lirtend to escape from here and take you with me. ‘Tt may be days, weeks, and perhaps months; but I shall get away and you shall go too, ‘¢ Be careful not to let any one know that you ve talked to me, for they would kill us both; ut don’t fret, for I will take you back to your rents,” ‘Ah! if eyes were ered, “They beat me here when I am not bad, and I ch he d ‘soe li k : ad some fishing-lines in my pocket when they caught me, and so I thought Pd run down ou only could,” and the little girl’s lied with tears, while her lips quiv- here to the b and catcb some fish; but they may beat me for it, RM: I’ve caught a whole string. ** See here!” Buckskin Bill, ee She held up the string of fish with pride, and then as Buckskin Bill started to go, she asked: ** What is your name?” ‘‘The Indians call me Red Scalp.” ‘** What an ugly name! ‘‘ It’s because you are red-headed, I guess. ‘But what’s the name your parents gave you?” ‘“ William Middleton.” “Tl call you Mister Willie.” ‘No, call me Bill—Buckskin Bill—for that is what they called me at school, ‘But now I must go, but remember I will Save you.” ‘tT won't forget it.” “* Good-by, Frankie.” ‘¢ Good-by, Buckskin Bill,” was the reply, and the girl continued her fishing, while Buckskin Bill stole softly away and went on with his pretty little girl captive, ‘* Tf I can only save her!” he mused. “ And I will!” he firmly added 4 moment after. CHAPTER XIX. IN MASQUERADE, THE more Buckskin Bill looked into matters, the more he discovered that he was constantly watched, He was glad to know that his little talk with Frankie Willard had escaped the watchful eyes kept upon him, and he came to the conclusion that it he could escape himself, he could also rescue her, How to accomplish this was what puzzled his brain continually. He thought out a hundred plans, and had to give them up. One of his duties was to look after the horses of the old medicine chief. For some reason, perhaps to watch his own white hair, Death-Killer would own nothing but belonged to him were all fine ones, and were as white as snow. Buckskin Bill suddenly took a deeper interest in his care of these white mustangs. He would care for them far more thoroughly than was his wont, and beseemed to take pride in combing out, with a comb of his own manu- facture, their long manes and tails. The fact was, that their manes and tails had suggested an idea of escape to the youth. n all the time that he was caring for these mustangs, he was robbing them, hair by hair, of their tails, These hairs were securely hidden away, and at different times, when he could, Buckskin Bill worked on something which at last developed into a rude wig. This wes the foundation of his last plot to es- cape, and the reader will discover that it was a good one, though a desperate one, Having completed bis wig, Buckskin Bill began to see what the chances were of a talk with lit- tle Frankie. It took him weeks to manage this, but at last he succeeded, and the result was that the next day the child was taken ill. she had begun to understand and speak the Comanche tongue passably well, and she told the chief, Fire Eyes, and his wife that she was suffering great pain. They were anxious about the little captive for they did not wish to lose her, and so old Death-Killer was called in. He looked as wise as an owl, gave the child some of his medicines, and it had no beneficial effect. ‘As Frankie seemed to grow worse, the old medicine chief said he would take her to his tepee that night and try other things to cure her, for that was the custom of the Comanches, to take an invalid to the Medicine Lodge and en- deavor by their rude methods to drive off di ease, Old Death-Killer departed for his tepee to make all arrangements, and he found that Buck- skin Bill had his supper ready for him. The old medicine chief was hungry, and he gorged himself so that he grew sleepy and fell back upon the buffalo-robe on which he had been sitting, Then Buckskin Bill rose quickly, and dragged Dexth-Killer into his little tepee adjoining, From his body then were taken his picturesque costume and ornaments of bears’ Claws, beads, a pie es and scalps, and it took Buckskin Bill a very short while to rig upin them. Out from its hiding-place then came the white horse-hair wig, after which he reddened his face ; le / bagh A pee 4! at ape’ _ oo ead Aas, el ew’ 70) ir tag \ \' with paint. project, for there was no watch kept on them. The wig was a good fit, and with hands also! Reaching the corral, Buckskin Bill deposited \ t ? : hy \e She ‘ ‘ yi be hve ~ a ps ae As OW a3 ¥ ee aS he" has tale 2: ‘ " } rt * em tye > ial J TN #9 ind le ; || | BAS tub . pike Py AU nae to it ‘ edits 4, = Ft. eS ~~. - the Comanche Shadow. | | work, happy at having had a talk with the a white mustang, and the score of animals which a 7 eA -"- ve 7 ’ | + veghe J * Paw oh . ie ue reddened, body bent over, and the staff of the medicine chief, the daring youth leoked the very medicine chief himself. Lying half-naked upon his couch of skins, sleeping securely under an herb narcotic which Buckskin Bill bad placed in his supper, Death- Killer was no longer dangerous. Having put the fire nearly out, so as to have but a dim light in the large tepee, Buckskin Bil} started on his perilous mission. The walk and moverrents of the old medicine chief he had studied perfectly, and his voice he had practiced until he could imitate it to per- fection. The night was dark, and as the Comanches were wont to retire early the camp-fires were al- ready burning low. ; A misty rain was beginning to fall, and a chill wind that was uncomfortable was sweeping through the village. Across the village the young borderman wend-~- ed his way, keeping up the gait and perfect ae pearance of the old medicine chief, and pole t to the group of tepees which belonged to Fire Eyes and bis family he went. The sick child had been left to the care of one of the squaws in one of the tenees, and to it the disguised youth made his way. ‘* How feels the Snow Bird now?” he asked, as he drew aside the flaps of the tepee and entered while the squaw half arose from her bed o skins. The words seemed to arduse the child and she moaned pitifully. ‘ ‘‘' The medicine chief will take the Snow Bird to his tepee. ‘‘ Let the Antelope come to the medicine lodge when the sun shines over the mountain and see if the Snow Bird is not better.” So snying, the youth wrapped the little cap- tive carefully up in robes, and taking ber in his arms bore her from the tepee, while the squaw, glad to get rid of her charge, dropped back on , her couch again and slept soundly, thinking nothing of the affair, as it was the custom of the Indiau medicine-men to have their way with all invalids. Back to the Medicine Lodge went the youth, clinging fast to his burden, while the rain began. to fall more rapidly and the chill wind to blow more fiercely. | CHAPTER XX. A BOLD DEED. Tue heavy flaps of the large Medicine Te had hardly shut Buckskin Bill from view, when he gently laid the slender form down upon a couch of skins, which the old medicine ¢hief had. for invalid Indians. Then he made a rapid cireuit of the tepee, looking in all places where a form could be con- cealed, and entering tbe quarters adjoining, found Death-Killer sleeping soundly, ‘‘He ate so much fie got more than [ in- tended. ‘* But Bill. Then he went outside and made a rapid circuit of the two tepees. , , Not a soul was visible, Returning to the Medicine Lodge, he said, in a whisper: “Frankie!” ‘Well, Buckskin Bill?” ‘¢ How do you feel?” ‘¢ Splendid.” “You played your part well.” ‘¢ And so did you, for at first I really thought you were that horrid old medicine chief, ‘*But what are you going to do n0W ” Oi stat gal ** Oh! how glad I will be.” He hastily collected some traps together, which ne had been collecting for weeks, and tied all in a bundle, which he strapped upon his back, ‘Here, Frankie, you carry the provision-ba and this bow and arrows, aud I have the old’ chief’s rifle, revolver and knife, ‘Now, come on, and keep close behind me.” They left the tepee silently, and wended their way toward the nearest timber, where they had. shelter from any one who might be moving about the village. But the rain was falling, and the chill wind blowing, so Buckskin Bill had little fear of seeing any one, unless it was a party returning from a hunting expedition, or some of the outposts coming in for some reason, he Comanches had a dozen corrals for their ponies, and Over each one was a ao but the desire of the old medicine chief to keep his mustangs aloof from the others, had worked greatly in the favor of Buckskin Bill's daring it won't kill him,” muttered Buckskin t - “] » ¢ f ¥ | Oe if " ; ds lie a! nes q e) . @ | | . - ;_-~ ¢ - | — ae ey KS : - 7) 7 (Sarre. y ; - J —_ia . ; 4 : 4 t : 5 7 ww XM - - Ps aes ky ¥