Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 617 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

z Ralph, the Death-Shot Scout. trail, wending their way from a scene of carnage and ruin back to their fastnesses in the moun- tains, where the avenging arm of retribution could not strike them. It was the robber band of Don Ramon, the Raider Bravo of the Rio Grande, who for sev- eral years had been the scourge of both the American and Mexican borders, defying all at- tempts to capture him, ani from his stronghold in the hills beating back his many foes, Returning from a successful raid, and with his half a hundred horsemen laden down with plun- der, Don Ramon was content, and rode at the head of the column, grimly silent and stern while, ever and Fee would glance toward the heavy storm-clouds rolling across the heavens like an inky pall, and threatening ere long to break with fury upon the prairie, Suddenly, from out the gloom ahead, broke a vivid flash—momentarily lighting up the scene. That instant of light revealed a horseman, perhaps two hundred yards distant, almost ete aes in the weird circle of fiery brightness, with background and surrounding of loom, ? Then followed the crack of a rifle, the whir of a bullet, and, witha bitter curse, Don Ramon felt a stinging pain in his left arm. ** After him, a score of you, and run him to his den,” shouted the startled and angry chief; and away dashed a dozen horseman in the di- rection from whence had come the shot, while sw long line quickly doubled up, and came toa lt. Slowly the moments passed, and vo shout of triumph, or rifle-siot off on the prairie told of the success of the pursuit of the daring foe, and Don Ramon, whose wound had been dressed as well as circumstances would admit, gave the order to move on once more, But hardly had the order been given when another flash, another report, this time from the rear, and an outlaw cried out in agony; his arms wildly lashed the air, and the nextmoment he felldead upon the prairie, just as the party re- turned, unsuccessful in their pursuit. But, away they sped again, in chase, and slowly the minutes dragged, until, one by one ail returned with the same report:—no enemy could be found. Then a superstitious dread seemed to come up- on all, and closely they huddled until the stern voice of their chief ordered them to forward once more, In the mean time the skies grew blacker, and the gloom on the prairie denser, while the roll of thunder was deep and threatening, Again the serpentine line moved forward, men and horses tired out with their long and hard ride, and longing for shelter, rest and food. But their deadly foe still hung on their trail, for again flashed forth his fatal rifle, and again an outlaw fell. ** Maledicite! Are we to be shot down singly? Curses on this black night!” But scarcely had the land bandit cursed the darkness, when a vivid lance of lightning sped from the inky heavens to the earth, and shivered into arrows of fire as it struck the prairie, while a crash of thunder followed that seemed to rock the very world, Every eye was blinded by the flash, every car deafened by the thunder, every heart started with dread, while silence like death fell upon all. But only for an instant, then a dozen voices snouted : ‘* Behold! the prairie is on fire!” It was true—tae lightning bad ignited the tall, dry prairie grass, and squadrons of fiery demons seemed charging down upon the outlaw band, for the stiff Gulf-gale swept toward them. ‘* Wor your lives men! to the motte!" and Dn Ramon’s voice startled all to action, With cries to their horses, the brigands bound- ed away across the prairie, a rushing, skurry- ing mass of terror-stricken beings, for well they knew their danger—a wall of flame was behind them a couple of leagues, their haven of sufety, a copse of timber, nearly a league in their front, Yelling, cursing, and praying, in frenzied fury at their danger, the raiders urged their strain- ing horses to greater speed; but they, poor brutes, well knew their danger and every nerve and muscle was strung to fly from the avalanche of fire rushing upon their trail. Up from the prairie grass sprung buffalo, wolf and deer, and unmindful of their worst enemy, man, ran side by side with him in the mad race for life! z Far off over the prairie, plainly visible in the lurid light, skurried a drove of wild mustangs, heading, as were mankind and wild beast alike, for the dis:ant timber. Suddenty a wild shout was heard in front, and an outlaw, whose fleeter steed kept him in ad- vance of his comrades, pointed excitedly before im, All followed the direction of his outstretched arm, and a number of voices cried: “ The Death Trailer! the Death-Shot Scout !” ‘*By Heaven! yonder is our old foe, men; it is he who has dogged our trail this night. On, on, and we’ll drive him to his death!” shouted the Don, and a few bounds of his splendid steed carried him to the front. The object that had attracted the attention of the outlaws was a horseman, dashing along ina sweeping gallop, and the glitter of his rifle and pistols, and silver mounting of his saddle and trappings, were plainly visible, as the firelight fell upon them, His horse was a long-bodied, slender-limbed blood bay, whose gaunt form denoted both speed and endurance, and, unmindful of the weight of his rider, he swept along with a conscious power of strength and the speed of a deer, The rider was clad in a svit of buckskin, leg- gins, hunting-shirt, and moccasins, all beaded handsomely and worked with quills of various colors, while a broad sombrero, turned up in front, sheltered his head. His face, as he turned toward the fire, was strangely handsome; the eyes shone with intel- ligence, and sparkled with excitement, It was a strange face, one that would appear at bomein the fashionable drawing-room, and yet did not seem out of place there on that wild Southwest frontier, His hair wes worn short, and his jaws beard- less, which showed to advantage his firm mouth and pearl-white teeth. A repeating rifle was slung at his back, ready for use, and in bis belt were a pair of silver- mounted revolvers, and a long knife, while a coiled lasso hung at his saddle-bow. Without the quiver of a muscle, the man glanced back at the double danger behind—the wall of flame, roaring, cracking, bissing as it swept alcng, and the mass of outlaws eager for his blood. On, on, in the mad race rushed the Jone scout, outlaw, wild beast and untamed mustang, and behind them came the dread pursuer, which vo man could conquer, Well m the front rode the solitary borseman, neither urging his unmatched steed, nor allow- ing his enemies to gain upon him. Before him Joomed the ridge of timber, look- ing like an island in the ocean, and thither he was heading. A few more bounds of his steed, and he disap- peared in the green covert, just as his ears caught the sound of a wild shriek from the despairing wretch, whose struggling borse had been unable to save him from the flames, Asif reveling in its first victim the fire-fiend hurtled on, and again and again there arose the wild shriek of man and steed, as those in the rear were embraced in the arms of fire, and madly did those in the front strain and spur to escape the awful destroyer on their trail. At length the black steed of Don Ramon dart- ed into the timber shelter, and a triumphant shout burst from his lips as be felt that he was saved, One by one the outlaw riders dashed in, and side by side with them rushed a heaving mass, mustang, buffalo, deer and wolf commingling. ‘* Saved, by Heaven!” cried the Bravo Chief, as he beheld the last of his band that could es- cape, find shelter, but his face grew pallid, his lips stern set, as his ears caught tbe death-cry of those who had been less fortunate. **Come, men! we must not remain idle, for our enemy is hemmed in—the fire cuts him off to the southward, and the gulch to the porth- ward, he cannot cross, He is our gameat last— his last death-shot has been fired!” ani Don Ramon smiled with grim confidence, as he led the way into the more secluded portion of the motte, CHAPTER Il, A WILD LEAP FOR LIFE, Wirt the roar of a tornado, the fiery ava- lanche rushed up to the timber, hurling its heat far before it into the leafy coverts; but it sud- denly recoiled, writhed, hesitated, and with nothing to consume in its front, swept to the southward of the timber, and again skurried on- ward across the prairie. As their dread enemy struck the motte, Don Ramon and his men sought shelter in a small ravine; but, finding that the fire did not pene- trate, and was speeding away to the southward, fatigued and haggard though they were, they at once sallied forth in search of their buman enemy, who they knew was shut off from es- cape to the northward, by a huge gulch, a ravine, that bordered the timber in that diree- tion, and whose precipitous sides and great depth rendered it inpassable to a horseman. The light from the burning prairie still render- ed all as bright as noonday, and deploying into a long line the outlaws began to slowly advance, to drive their daring foe to bay. But, the hunted horseman seemed in no mood to conceal himself, as had the wolves and wild animals upon gaining the thicket, for, suddenly, the crack of a rifle was heard, anda raider fell from his saddle, while a piercing war-cry eehoed through the woods! Instantly all turned their gaze in the direc- tion from whence came the shot, and beheld the object of their search, standing by the side of his steed, not two hundred yards away! A yell of triumph broke from the outlaws, and loudly Don Ramon shouted: ‘‘ At him, men, and take him alive.” Like a solid mass the prairie brigands spurred toward the horseman, who regarded their ap- proach with a fearlessness that denoted perfect confidence in himself, ora total disregard for his fate. Yet, though the single horseman appeared so utterly indifferent to his terrible danger, he was not at all so, for his piercing eyes had taken in at a glance all his chances of escape, all the ter- rors of his situation. Finding that he was entrapped by the wide and deep gulch behind him, and hemmed in by the outlaws in his front and upon .either flank, he quickly made up his mind to bring matters to a crisis, Dismounting, he gave his steed a drink from a spring at his feet, tightened his girths, looked to his weapons, and with a bound was again in the saddle, and riding at full speed directly for the ravine ! ‘*Is he mad, to attempt that desperate lea; ? No, he cannot mean it—it is mere bravadv,.” cried Don Ramon, as he reined his korse bacix with a look of horror, while his example was followed by every one of bis follcwers. But, like the wind, the dread Death-Shot Scout rode on, seated low in his saddle and nerved to the daring work before him, and heading for the wide, dark spot, that marked the ravine in his front. Suddenly a series of wild cries broke from his lips, which seemed to excite every nerve in bis gallant steed, for it sped on with the speed of a bird, his flight keenly watched by the brigands, who believed he was rushing to certain death. Nearer and nearer he drew to the awful leap, and then, crouching low in his saddle, a wild — yell broke from his lips, and with a snort of rage or fright, his splendid steed shot up into the air, and forward, with terrible force. | In‘an instant horse and rider seemed to hang stationary, as though poised in air, and then, dowu, down they came, and with every muscle quivering, every nerve strung, eyes flashing, and hard-drawn breuth, the splendid animal safely touched the other side, his hoofs ringing clear as they struck the solid ground, , A wild yell of triumph broke from the Death4 Scout’s lips, a wave of his broad sombrero around his head, and away darted the steed like an ar- row across the prairie! | ‘*Brave Comanche, my noble friend— bravely done! You cleared over thirty feet in that grand leap, and saved your master from death and yourself from the dishonor of an out- law rider,” and the horseman patted his prairie companion affectionately upon the neck,-and rode on at a swinging gallop over the plain. As the dismal gray of approaching dawn spread over the prairies, the borseman drew near toa long line of straggling timber, here and there spreading into a considerable grove, To the practical eye of a plainsman it was evident that the timber bordered ariver-bank, and, as if thoroughly acquainted with the locality, the horsemen headed toward one of the longer clumps of trees, through which was dim- ly visible the outline of some rude, but substan. tial structure. As he rode along tbe light increased, until when within a short distance of the grove, the. sun arose above the prairie borizon, and its rays fell upon a large log building, surrounded by a— stout stockade. ‘ The notes of a bugle cutting the crisp morn- ing air at once proved that it was not the adr vanced homestead of some bold frontiersman, but the home of the brave soldiers who were thus thrown between the settlements and the fierce hordes that desolated the border. As the horseman approached the stockade, a com MAI ai al), et ee eee eA chook ‘ i Ti We