Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 542 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

— the rider still erect in hisseat. Still the head hung down, still the Jean hand held the loose rein, still the horse kept on, within a few feet of | the bewildered Kentuckian. Staggering back, Duncan, now alarmed—his courage almost vanished—clubbed his rifle, and struck dumb with amazement and alarm, me- chanically waved it as if to strike, The horse stopped, then walked slowly circling round Duncan, watching him with his steady brown eye, as if guided bv some invisible hand, Still the rider, with his head bowed steadily, kept bis saddle, like one in atrance. The lean, brown hand that beld the loose rein still rested on the saddle-horn, as the horse turned again and quietly trotted back, retracing his steps, The trot increased to a gallop; it grew into a smart run as be bounded up the hillside; and at last, flying into a cloud of dust, he disappeared over the summit with great velocity, with the quiet rider still bestriding him, yet erect, and never once raising his bent head to look back. The dust settled down again, and the cook, filled with awe, stood watching the hill-top. A shout drew his attention to the camp. Three horsemen were there, two of them in the act of dismounting, while the third, a large man on a powerful black horse, was bringing in a stray mustang at the end of a long riata or lasso. ‘‘They’ve come at last, thank God!” uttered Duncan, as he walked toward the camp, not without glancing fearfully back over his shoul- der. ‘‘Great Heaven! he never dropped, and pha dead shot, and I heard the bullet strike his skull ! ——- oe CHAPTER II. A SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING, WHEN Duncan returned to the camp, he found his three companions talking excitedly, with gestures of annoyance. Their faces, too, were clouded and gloomy—evidently they were not in the best of humor, The principal and loudest talker was a young man of six feet three in hight, fantasti- cally dressed, and was engaged in removing the saddle from his horse, a beautiful blood-bay. He was addressing no one in particular, but savagely tugging at his saddle-girth, was in high ill-humor, The next man was a brownish, wiry fellow of forty years or more, dressed roughly in buckskin, and was standing with his arm thrown over the neck of his roan mustang, idly tearing the soil with one of his huge spurs. oth of these men were well known througb- out the Southwest, being famous in their several “lines.” The young giant, Cimarron Jack, was noted for his enormous strength, reckless dar- ing, cunning strategy, and inordinate bragging. The other was still wider known, being none other than tbe far-famed Simpson—‘‘ Tim Simpson, the Guide.” The third was a Spaniard or Mexican, tall, sturdy, and weatherbeaten, He, too, was of great courage, strength and ability—a fitting companion for such men as Cimarron Jack and Simpson. He wasa Spanish vaquero. and well known to most of our readers—Pedro Felipe.” ‘*T never saw such a fellow!” angrily growled the giant explorer. ‘ The laziest, most careless lout in the country. He don’t care how tired we are—how hungry and fatigued—not he! All he looks out for is himself. Now, here we are, after riding in the hot sun all the morning, back to camp long after noon, to find the coffee boiled away, that tender antelope-steak burned to a cinder, and the cook off hunting jack-rabbits. Curse such a cook] he a cook—ha! ha!” and Cimarron Jack laughed scornfully, Though these sarcastic remarks were addresed to his saddle, which he flung angrily down, Duncan, being quite close, overheard every word, and was well aware to whom they were addressed. He flared up instanter. ‘“‘ Think I'm a fool, a slave, d’ye? Yes, ’ma fool for ever cooking for such a miserable set and in doing it I am also a slave. You grow because you come back and don’t find your slave ready with the dinner, do you? Now after those remarks of yours you can just cook your dinner yourself, for [ won’t! Just put that in your pipe and smoke it, will you?” ‘* What in thunder is the use in gittin’ mad?” cried the guide, himself very surly. ‘‘ There you are on the pararer huntin’ jack-rabbits, while the dinner, left to itself, spoils, of coorse. Then you come back and growl, ’cause we find fault, when you are to blame, (Curse the jack- rabbits! who wants any jack-rabbits?” *See Hatr Dive Lisprary No, 313, The Canyon Pards. ‘* Who’s been hunting jack-rabbits, I’d like to know ?” You!” ** | hain’t!” ‘** You hev! we all see’d you with yer gun.” “What if you did? was it any of your busi- ness?” ‘*Senors, senors, keep cool—preserve your tempers,” and the burly form of Pedro Felipe interposed between the angry disputants. ‘What! men of your age and sense stooping to indulge in a petty wrangle like children? Senors, Iam truly ashamed. Come, now, don’t quarrel; I am sure Duncan had some good cause to Jeave the diuner. This is a wild country, you know, and I, for one, will not grumble. Come, all bear a hand, and we'll soon have a rough dinner, and then Duncan will explain, [ am sure he will. Depend upon it, Tim Duncan is too careful and faithful to leave a dinner to spoil for the sake of a paltry rabbit—he has asatisfactory explanation in reserve Ill guarantee, Hurrah! now for dinner.” His good nature and brusque heartiness wero contagious. At once forgetting their idle dis- pute, the guide and Duncan advanced and shook hands, with faces of a deeper color than usual; while Cimarron Jack, lustly roaring a rollicking negro melody, rolled up his sleeves, preparing for a new and better dinner, Pedro went back to unsaddle his black horse and repicket the skittish mustang, while the guide heaped more wood on the fire, Duncan pounded coffee, and Jack sliced off juicy steaks of antelope—dinner was ‘‘ under way.” The repast was discussed amicably, the dis- putants, like other wranglers, being very oblig- ing and social after their quarrel. Jack and Simpson related reminiscences of their ** green- horn” days, and lustily roared snatches of un- couth songs; but sharp-eyed Pedro, watching Duncan, noticed bim glance frequently over his shoulder at the knoll, as if in expectation of see- ing some disagreeable object; and, satisfied the latter had a story to relate which would satis- factorily explain his neglect of the dinner, re- solved to question him at the first opportunity. He had not long to wait, for the cook being sadly perplexed, voluntarily explained. When the last man had eaten his fill, and charging his pipe, lazily stretched himself in the tent’s scanty shade, he faced them all, and said: ‘“We are here to explore Long and Black Canyon on the Colorado River, ain’t we?” Jack sleepily nodded assent, ‘¢ And we have got plenty of time to do it in?” ‘‘ Plenty.” ** Just so. ing.” Pedro knew the explanation was coming. ‘* A visitor—whom?” he quietly asked. ** A dead man.” ‘* A dead what?” ‘* A dead man!” ** Nonsense!” ‘*Upon my life and soul as I ever hope for mercy—either a dead man or an iron one.” Jack and the guide aroused themselves, and sitting upright, eyed Duncan with interest, looking incredulous. The latter proceeded, ‘¢ Why, you saw him yourselves,” ‘¢ We saw no man,” quietly replied Pedro. ‘¢You must have been blind, then—didn’t you hear me shoot?” NG ‘Thunder! it wasn’t five minutes after I shot, when you fellers hollered to me from the camp, here.” ‘¢ Where were you then?” ‘‘Over yonder, about half-way to that hill, You must have been asleep or you’d have seen him ride over the summit. Gracious! how that horse did fly.” ‘‘ What horse—what are you talkin’ about?” demanded the guide, impatiently. ‘Why, that tall art man on the chestnut horse that rode over the hill just before you hollered.” ‘* Senor, we 8aw you three milesaway. All the while we were Coming that distance, (and we rode slowly) you never changed your position, but stood perfectly still. We wondered then what you were dOlng—when we came near enough to distinguish your rifle, we supposed that you were out after rabbits.” ‘You say—you—saw me—for—three miles— and I stood—still al—the time?” ‘Yes; you did.” *“‘ Then, instead_of standing there a minute, I stood an hour. No wonder the dinner spoilt.” You were motionless half an hour, certainly —quite still, leaning on your gun, looking to- ward the hill.” Well, I had a visitor this morn- 3 a — — ‘“*T stood there for an hour—that’s a fact!” and without further preamble he related the incident, in his honest, straightforward way, from beginning to end, while they listened at- tentively. He finished and sat down, lighting his pipe, Jack whistled softly, and thoughtfully walked to a small keg attached to the pack-saddle, con- taining whiskey. ‘Taking a small stick, he thrust through the bung, and then withdrawing it, measured the depth of the liquor. Then he turned to his companions: ‘It takes a quart to make cook so drunk he don’t know what he’s about—a quart or pretty near it. There’s been no liquor drawn since morning. So he’s been sober, and as he never spins yarns nor lies, what he says is so; he hita tall man on a chestnut horse, square in the head with a rifle-ball at twenty-five yards, and it didn’t drop him. Gentlemen of tbe jury, he was either a spirit,a dead man, or an iron one; no wonder the dinner spoiled.” An interval of silence ensued, durin the four men smoked and eyed eac quietly; then Simpson spoke: ‘¢ That thar cook is a skeptic ef thar ever were one—he’s got ter see and know—yes, know, a thing afore he believes it. He saays he see’da dead man ora spirrit, and saays he hit him in the head with a bullet, and it didn’t burt him, Gents, the cook never lies nor spins yarns—be tells the truth.” Duncan was honest, careful, and certain in his speech—he was a man whose word could be relied upon under any circumstances; and they never doubted the truth of his statement. ‘‘ Well,” said Cimarron, after a Jong pause, ‘‘shall we postpone the exploration and ferret out this cock-and-bull chap? It will be scme excitement, and this business is devilish dull. What do you say—shall we do it?” Every man promptly assented. ‘‘ Correct, my lion-hearted minion! ‘ Well begun is half-done;’ shall we begin now+— no time like the present!’ ” ** Yes,” was the unanimous cry. ‘All right. The moon shines all night to- night—we can search until we are tired. Tear my ten-ton heart out, but [’m starving to meet that chap. Hurrah! Saddle up! I’m the cock of the walk!” So saying, he walked to his saddle and placed it on his blood-bay’s back. The rest followed suit, and soon four horses were ready to start. The fractious mustang was to be ridden by Simpson, as the cook, being a poor rider, would have been ‘‘ bucked” off the moment he be- strode the malicious beast; and the guide’s roan mustang was always ridden by Duncan on a march. Pedro and the cook were to follow, as nearly as possible, the direction taken by the mys- terious rider, all returning to the camp as a rendezvous. The country being unusually quiet, it was not deemed necessary to leave the camp urder other guard than that of the old Spanish mare; and after closely scanning the horizon in all direc- tions, they rode away, the two parties separat- ing at the start. In ten minutes the mare was the only living creature in camp. .Ten minutes more, but two horsemen could be seen on the plain; the guide and Jack having disappeared down a canyon, About three hours before sunset, the figure of & woman appeared on the summit of a distant hill. Seeing the camp, she uttered a cry of joy, and hastened toward it, as if seeking a refuge, Panting with her haste, she flew by the mare, and with a glad, but pale and worn face, en- tered the tent. The afternoon went on toward sunset. CHAPTER III. A FRUITLESS VALLEY, Av an hour before sunset, Pedro and Duncan reined in their horses on the border of a dense chaparral, nearly six miles from camp, and close to a lofty hill. This eminence was bhdleen and rough, bearing evident traces of a volcanic formation, and was almost entirely covered with thick bushes, which, vividly green, presented a strong contrast to the surrounding yellow and verdureless country. At the base of the hill, as on the extreme summit, there were no thickets —at the former, a natural ‘ clearing ” extended in a circle entirely around it. This, however, the two men could not see, as the dense inter- vening busbes effectually hid it from view. ‘** Well,” observed the Spaniard, after briefly gazing at the lonely, silent hill, “‘so far, so good; we have as yet failed to get a glimpse of this strange prowler. We bave seen no trail— he left none; but, Senor Duncan, unless the ex~. which other cSi ee