Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 6 — page 1: what you’re looking at

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

<- = s SE > mm 8 im h ey Sy » a Ques, »* \\ wt QMX MOOR WOOD WO ‘vs i! i i i! a a! i in el No. 988 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. — —_ - ——_ . —— — - ee — « = -— = om op N TNA, LRM tH, 7:9 : LLL WW 4 Vg Cae hs at “. SYM Go Zt ATS Ws “Maha iANS ! Copyrighted in 87, by BEADL ax ADAMS Sing] BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS " [Copyrighted 1860, by Beadle & Co.) Bill Biddon, Trapper; OR, LIFE IN THE NORTH-WEST. BY EDWARD 8. ELLIS, oe CHAPTER L. OUT LATE AT NIGHT. ‘How is it, Nat? Any light yet?’ ** Not the least sign of one, and it’s my opinion it will be a long time before we see another.”’ “What! you haven't given up all hopes of reaching the camp? I don’t relish the idea of camping out to- night? “Nor I; but I’m thinking that will come sooner or ater.” ‘Well, there are several hours yet, in which we must plod onward,’’ I added, trudging wearily behind my companion. Before going further, I may as well in- troduce my friend and myself. My com- pears answered to the name of Nathan odd, and was a native of Maine. He was a tall, lank individual, with attenu- ated limbs and an awkward appearance generally. He was m r but muscu- lar, and when roused to the heat of pas- sion, as ge and powerful as the - ther. is gait was ungainly, and he seemingly was capable of anything but speed; but on one or two occasions since leaving the States, he had shown a fleet- ness of foot truly wonderful. He was a good, open-hearted fellow, and one who, when driven to the wall, would be a dan- gerous enemy. Once or twice, how- ever, he had shown the white feather, and his natural timidity would often evince itself. As a consequence, Nat was not, perhaps, the safest com on in the hour of danger; but, for that, there was no one in our whose presence I would have preferred upon the night in which I introduce him to notice. There was no imminent peril threatening, and Nat was a capital com- panion, who could while away the hours, if he chose, with his inexhaustible store of anecdote and humor. I knew he en- tertained a warm affection for me, and would brave almost any r rather than be ted of his only deficiency. A single intimation would decide his course in a moment. Nat wore a si dress—half savage and half civilized. The pants and shoes were such as are fashionable in the en- lightened world: but a capacious hunt- ing-shirt incased his body, secured around the waist by a heavy band, and much the same as are worn by the hunt- ers and natives of the far West at the resent day, The most striking part of his dress, however, was the hat. This he had brought with him from Maine and it really seemed indestructible, It was of a gray color, and ha lost its band, had acquired the shape of a cone, When it rested on his head, the ed reached the shoulders behind, and the eyebrows in front, and the pointed peak rose far off above the crown. Nathan Todd's face was full of shrewd- ness and good humor. He had a ’ curved nose, broad mouth, and a fine blue eye. The chin was recrenting, Dae this drawback was modified ya long tuft of yellow hair, the only signs of upon his face, except a shad- owy m 1e. The hair was long and sandy, and harmonized well with the rest of his countenance. There was ever a contraction of the eyebrows—a sort of un- spoken question—so often seen in persons from Whee 4. east,’’ which indicates a prying, curious dis- position. As for myself, my name is William Relmond, and I hail from one of the Middle States. Shortly after the announcement of the discovery of gold fornia, 1 was seized with the lunacy that was carry- ing its thousands to the Pacific coast. I was well situated in life at home, but that was not considered. I must fish up a fabulous fortune also, At the age of twenty, then, without a settled purpose in life, I determined to make a journey to the El Dorado of the New World. I was not influenced solely by the love of gain, but the love of adventure urged me ir- resistibly on. I had heard wonderful stories of the boundless prairies, of their wandering hordes of Indians, their millions of buffaloes and horses, and the vast, billowy ocean of verdure and sunshine, and the Far West seemed the paradise of the world to me, Provided with an ample outfit I proceeded by the ee a | usual route to Independence, Missouri, where I made | ; \ Fay | es + } 3 + s ran I Vii! OF ‘)y A “MG oa iit y , ; i" (, f Ml a ‘ye Mg ’ “YS Ye Vy » 1 4 ’ \. A Y// ~ mat a), vile . ; A f ~/ a ° is y J A P Ty, THE TRAPPER’S HOME. te * >. * if j 4 4 Uf My , 9// Yi DG | 'and after a short inquiries of the trains constantly leaving that point for a and California. I there stumbled upon Nat Todd, mr Brenan’ companion. He had just ar- rived from distant home, where he had lefta widowed mother and a disconsolate sweetheart. But he said he was going to return, in just two years from the day he left, with a “rousing heap” of money, and intended to buy “Squire Hunt's farm,” take iny down there, and live the rest of his life. | His frankness and humor impressed me favorabl ~ conversation, we grasped hands, and swore to remain by each other till our adven- —— were terminated by death or a happy denoue- ment, We engaged places in a train which left the next day. This company numbered nigh two hundred persons, and was composed of all kinds of charac- ters, except females. There were French voyageurs, en, and an agent of one of the western fur companies, The ority of the rest were from the plow or workshop. ey had secured the services of an experienced — and were well equipped for the journey before them. The overland route, at this time, was s0 alive with passing emigrants, that few depredations were committed by the Indians. The savages sometimes hung around companies, but as there were always other whites in sight, they rarely ventured upon any greater crime than pilfering. Nothing worthy of note occurred upon the journey for a length of time. e experienced the usual mis- haps and trials of emigrants, but noth- ing more startling. We sometimes lost & part of our baggage and provisions in ne the rivers, and were greatly discomforted by the terrific storms which often raged in those regions. Then, again, we traveled mile after mile, and hour after hour, upon the dry, mo- notonous, glistening, rolling prairie, so wearied and tired of the scene that we hardJy exchanged a syllable for hours at a stretch. At last, the plains of Kansas were reached, On the day in which I intro- duce my friend and myself to notice, we had descried a solitary antelope at a great distance upon the prairie, and set out to bringitdown. We left our horses hind, hoping to reach the animal b stratagem, I approached near enoug to wound it, when it made off with the eed of the wind. Expecting to see it ve out each moment, we followed mile mile, until gathering darkness warned us that night was at hand, when we halted in alarm. The caravan was nowhere in sight, and, we doubted not, had disappeared hours before. We left the train about noon, and had been warned that they would not halt or wait for us, and should we lose them they would take no to hunt usup. But we heeded not this, as we expected to keep them constantly in view, and have the antelope cooked for our supper. I have shown how widely we were en. We were compelled to see the night shut down around us, without bringing us any hope of spending it with our friends; and at a late hour we were still plodding over the prairie. o san yet, Nat?” I asked, for the twentieth time. “Well, I should think you had asked that ——- about often enough, to be suited with my answer.” “I expect ask it a dozen times more.” o 1 answer it once for 80 I won't be troubled ag’in with talk- . Wo! there's the answer.”’ I don’t know but what you are right, Nat, We must have come a long dis- tance, utterly unconscious of it, in our eagerness to get that antelope, and it’s ’ > ' Wy - me cS 0)(0)(6) eGoim (E