Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 520 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

at! a, iat oe ee bagi ise oe i ~ ae & Ke. - * / oe Sa - * 4 ll ’ i -— 2+ ‘Be Ba his bundle, and then went among the herd, pick- ing out three of the animals which he knew to be the best ones, and telling them in the hitense darkness by having plaited their manes so that he should know them on just such an occasion. Bridles, saddJes and stake-ropes he had al ways hidden away, and these were quickly put upon two of the mustangs, while the bundle was firmly strapped upon the third. & Raw: rankie, let me put you on this pony, aml you must ride like a boy, for Indians don’t have any side-saddles,” said Buckskin Bill, and he raised the little girl to the back of the 2 pe Then he mounted, and with Frankie following close behisi, and the third mustang leading, he started down toward the valley. Frankie could srigag restrain herself with 109 for she thought all danger was over; but Suckskia Bill whispered to her that they had an outpost of three red-skins to pass before “bey were free of the Indian lines, and after “bat it was a long, hard ride to the settlement. Lbout two miles from the camp Buckskin Bill lrew rein and asked Frankie to hold his mus- fang and wait for him there. Then, with the bow and arrows, and.a revol- ver, he et ge cautiously forward, The trail led through a rocky pass, and at the other end of it the youth knew that the Indian sentinel was stationed, while, up a tan- yon, half a hundred yards away, was the camp of the others, The patter of the rain, and the howling of the wind, were in his favor to drown all sound, and yet he moved with the greatest caution. He was within ten paces of the sentinel, who, unlike: many white soldiers, when no enemy is supposed to be near, was not shirking his duty, ‘but was standing upright upon the rock, his back toward the rain-storm, and his face turned toward the point from whence danger was to be looked for. ‘‘T hate to shoot him in the back,” said the boy, with a desire to have a foe face him. Bat then he thought of poor Reuben Carter, the two teamsters, the cruel raids of the Co- manches, the pretty little captive Frankie, and last of himself, and the fearful fate that awaited him if he was taken back to the village. Drawing the arrow well back and taking de- liberate aim, Buckskin Bill sent the fatal shaft flying upon its errand. With a stifled cry the Indian sprung into the air and fell heavily, rolling down the rocks into the trail. | Buckskin Bill was by his side in an instant, his hand upon his throat, but the sentinel was off duty forever.” Fearful that his cry might have alarmed his comrades up the canyon, the youth waited, crouching, revolver in hand, to see if they ap- peared. But, lucky for t’ em was it that they did not the wind and rain having prevented the soun reaching them. Feeling assured that al] was quiet up the can- yon, he dragged the body out of sight and then returned to the beaihandince off the trail where Be eet left Frankie, and mounting quickly, said: “T guess it’s all right now, Frankie.” ** Did you see the sentinels?” ‘© Yes, but they won’t see us—come.” He led the way down the pass, and glanced at the clump of bushes that hid the dead warrior as he went by. But they passed through in safety and soon ‘after reaching the prairie set out at a rapid gal- lop, the fugitives riding side by side, and the rd horse leading willingly. After pressing on for several hours Buckskin Bill said: chal ess we Ive the ponies a rest now, for by ihe. time the Tr ndiaus find out we have es- caped, we will be forty miles away from the lage. * Oh, Buckskin Bill! you are a great man,” cried Frankie in delight, and from that moment Buckskin Bill became her hero of heroes, —— CHAPTER XXI. THE scouT’s STORY. It is now time to return to Dan Ellis, after his magnificent escape from the Comanches, It was, as the reader wil] remember, nearly sunset, when his desperate race for life began and so darkness came to bis aid before he ha ridden very far, and forced the Indians to give up pursuit of him. a ae A nga va been placed as a bait, et the end of the: goal, was a good one, far bet- ter than the red-kins would Fare selected ee a LLL LLL LL LLL LLL LLL LLL I TN a . ct " ene ne = they supposed it possible that either of their prisoners could escape in the Death Chase. chee ctia out that he had a good mustang un- der him, Dan Ellis pressed rapidly on. He was most anxious to put as great distance as a between the Comanches and himself in the shortest possible time. He knew, too, that he had no weapons, other than the lance he carried, no food, and was in desperately bad circumstances for a couple of hundrd miles’ flight, But he did not despair, and so held on his way at a canter. He had strained himself in his terrific exer- tions to reach the horse before the pack of dogs should catch him, for the chasing red-skins he knew he could readily distance. This strain began to tell upon him, and when he dismounted toward midnight, he could hard- ly walk, This stiffness increased upon him and the next day his whole frame was racked with pain, But he held on his way, resting his pony when he dared, and giving the animal all the grazing and water he wanted. As for himself water was all he could get, as he could not eat grass, and hunger began to tell upon him, for the Indians had been very stingy in giving him food the few days he had been their captive. When night came his pony was pretty well fagged out, and he was almost completely so, e had nothing to light a fire with, no blanket to wrap about him to keep off the chilly winds, and so he had to makea bed of leaves, like a wild animal, and keep warm as best he could. After several hours of rest, such as it was, he mounted his pony, which had fared much bet- ter, and set off once more on his way to the set- tlements., Thus the day passed and another night came, Knowing that he was too stiff and sore to mount if he dismounted, he remained upon his mus- tang, which he kept slowly walking on his way through the night. Before day dawned the animal was gaunt and well-nigh used up, but his rider was in a worse condition and felt that he could not stand it much longer. Just then his eyes fell upon a white object far off over the prairies. It was the tilt of a ‘“‘ prairie schooner,” and others met his éyes also. ‘‘f am saved,” he murmured, and he pushed his pony forward at his best gait. An hour more and he rode up toa wagon- train crossing the prairie, and bound for the settlements. — He could barely say ‘‘ [ve escaped from In- juns—nearly starved—used up dead sart’in.” Then he fell from his horse, Tenderly he was taken up and cared for, and the next day when the train pulled into the set- tlement he was delirious with fever. All there knew him as Dan Ellis, one of the guards of the store train of Hal Rice, What did it mean? The train should have returned several days before. Why had it not? All that poor Dan Ellis could say was: “They are after me! I must run for it!” Thus did he rave in his delirium, Nada people of the train told of his words to em, 8 then a great fear ran through the settle- ment. Hal Rice thought of bis loss of wagons, mules and provisions, But Mr. Middleton and others thought of those dear to them, Pilot Pete, Reuben Carter, ‘Buckskin Bill and the others. What had become of them? No one could tell; but a scouting-party was at once organized and went off on the trail, They soon found the charred remains cf the wagons, the bones of dead men, which the wolves had picked clean. Who they were they could not tell, Dan Ellis had escaped, and the bones scattered about accounted for others; but two known to have been with the train were missing, Had they escaped, or been carried off by the Indians as captives? And which were they?” hese questions but one man could answer, and he was delirious with fever and might die. Back to the settlement rode the party, under Mr. Middleton, and their sad story was told. Dan Ellis still lay in the same condition, wild with delirium, Most tenderly he was cared for, until at last Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. 12 the fever burned itself out, and his strong frame and constitution proved victorious over the severe attack. At last he was able to talk, and his story wax told. , He did not speak unkindly of Pilot Pete, and those who had caroused with him, but he gave all to understand that but for the spree which the guide had begun in the town, the sad tragedy would not have occurred. He told how Reuben Carter, Buckskin Bill and himself, utterly worn out, had been forced to yield to Pilot Pete and the others to watch the train and what had followed. Buckskin Bill’s story of escape, his having. been up a tree over the heads of the camping Apaches, and his brave effort to rescue Carter and himself, he made known, Reuben Carter’s sad fate was also told, and how Buckskin Bill was a prisoner in the camp: of the Comanches, A cheer arose at this, from all who heard it,, and loud cries' were heard to form a rescue- rty. But Dan Ellis said: ‘‘ We hain’t got no thousand men, pards, ter send to thet camp, and it would take thet many to git thar in fightin’ style. ‘Then thar hain’t two hundred sogers on ther border ter help us, so we kin do nuthin’, ‘ But you jist let Buckskin Bill alone. ‘‘ He hain’t no fool, and he were born with his eyes open. ‘“He hev cut his teeth and durn me if yer don’t see him a-pilin’ inter ee settlement some ease, fine mornin’, chipper as yer . he jist makes ’em: ‘* They likes ther boy, an believe he loves ’em ter death, ‘* They knows he saved ’em from ther Apaches,, and they wants him fer a brave among ’em, an ther old medicine chief hev adopted him. ‘‘ But fer all that, Buckskin Bill don’t like rusticatin’ among Comanches, and ye’ll see him afore long, or my name hain’t Dan Ellis.” This assurance of the scout gave renewed hope, and daily did the settlers hope and look for the return of the brave youth they knew to be the captive of cruel red-skins. Then one day, like an electric thrill, there ran from cabin to cabin the thrilling words: ** Buckskin Bill has returned.” CHAPTER XXIT. DAN ELLIS’S DEATH-ROLL. Ir was a long time before Dan Ellis was able to get about, and longer still before he was strong enough to start upon a trail. But at last he was well and strong once more, and he began to get ready for a prairie tramp,, as he called it. The mustang which had brought nim from the: Indian village, he had a great affection for, and. the animal had proven himself possessed of both : and endurance, so he was to be the com- rade of the scout in his trips, for Dan bad given: out that it was his intention to ‘* bunt Injun.” He bad a little money laid by with Hal Rice, the storekeeper, and he took it to the farm with him and them invested in a repeating rifle and the best pair of revolvers be could buy, He also got a perfect outfit for himself, and fright and carly in the morning, after a week’s. steady practice with his rifle and revolvers, he set out from his little cabin on the war-path, Those who knew the scout well felt assured of two things: that he was going to try and rescue Buckskin Bill and also revenge Reuben Carter. But he was not aman to talk much; and so: they had to await bis return to see what it was that caused him to go off alone on the prairie, and so carefully fix up for an extended trip. Dan was gone for several weeks, and then one morning be was found at his cabin once more, When questioned, he simply said: ‘*] jist went off on a leetle fefler.” But ove: his cabin door they saw that he had nailed a boa.d, and into it had been rudely cut with a knife t,o words, about two feet apart, They were as “ollows: APACH’, COMANCHR’, Beneath the word intended for Apache were two scalps, Beneath Comanche was one. This showed that Dan Ellis had indeed been out upon a “ feeler.” He had never been in favor of scalping In- dians, it was remembered, and bad always ad- Vised his comrades against it, But after his Inst expedthiog his views had doubtless changed, judging from the scalps. tacked on the board above his cabin door, The next day Dan Ellis was gone again, anc several more weeks went by. : Ww Je a é re i > tA we it “i! 7: . 4 7” . \. fd , ‘ 7 ' U p . ~ . “ae ,, < er ee | > ’ = are! Yi ik ; | oie! . tw 7 | ) ] L 5 ow ON cru 4 , ¥ 4 : i. a eo) > g yee = a