Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 64 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

-— oo eee ne eee me ee after he had ridden several miles without much apparent success. “I’m gittin’ too far from un-Dance an’ the boy to suit me. Can’t I gain on the demon?” At length he discovered that he was gaining on the renegade, and presently his steed, missed for awhile, came in sight again, a dark object bounding over the plain. Long Lige changed his pistol from the right hand to the left. ““T’ll catch the rein an’ stop his horse,” he muttered. ‘“‘I’ve given hima chance for life, an’ it won’t be murder if I catch ’im!” The distance between the horses now lessened perceptibly. —_——————— ‘*He’s playin’ the Comanche tactics—gettin’ under his animile to escape my bullet!” Butler ejaculated, noticing that Martevelde’s steed did not seem to c arider. ‘‘ But, Comanche or not, ’ll do the gineral government a sarvice to- night what might entitle Lige Butler to a pen- sion. All the phe a committed by Oregon Leon rose in the guide’s mind as he bore down upon him, with the speed of certain fate. He would rid the Far West of one scoundrel who had cursed it for several years, making the Oregon trail a highway of death and disaster. The guide’s horse was rapidly nearing the ex- agent’s beast, which exhibited signs of fatigue: the race was at an end. At last the steeds were side by side, and as the head of Butler’s shot forward, the guide’s hand seized the rein. ‘Whoa! Oregon!” he shouted, in stentorian tones. ‘“‘I’ve got you, my boy. Come! no Comanche game. Git up an’ act the man, fur Lige Butler stands no foolishnes, time!” There was no response. The guide had stopped the ex-agent’s horse in the open plains; but nota sign of his rider was visible. **Git up and show yourself!” repeated Long Lige, hastily. ‘‘ No foolin’,Oregon. Be a man - this time, if you hev been a dog all your e. Silence still! (t perplexed the speaker, and, with an oath on his lips, he wheeled the horse half-way round to discover—what? that Leon Martevelde was not there! The old guide stared like a madman at the riderless steed. He could scarcely believe the evidence of his eyes. Leon Martevelde gone? Had he been chasing a riderless horse over the plain? ‘“Gone he is!” grated Butler, forced to admit that the renegade had outwitted him, ‘It beats my time all holler! Hyar I’ve been fol- lerin’ an empty saddle—all for nothin’, Once afore he outwitted me, down on the Oregon trail, an’ now for the second time. Dog-gone my foolishness! I hed him in. my fingers back yonder ; but I got a good spell on me, an’ guy im a chance for his worthless life. Thar’s w I missed it. Say, Pony, & you promise to ad- minister a good kickin’ Lige Butler will furnish the subject. I want to be kicked. Wal, thar’s no use cryin’ over broken jugs. The devil out- witted me, an’ he’ll be doin’ some rascally tricks afore mornin’. I’m mad! madder than I war when Luke Whittles tuck the wagon, an’ the young ’uns.” The old guide beat his pistol stock with his clenched hand as was his wont when in a passion, and he looked the picture of chagrin. ‘‘ Bless me if 1 wouldn’t head toward the mines an’ sell myself for a blasted fool ef the children was safe!” he continued. ‘A fel- lar doesn’t git credit on the great account book for every good act. I thought I war humane Nary when I guy Oregon a chance; but I guess I wasn’t. He would hev stuck to the horse if he had any manhood left. No! he wouldn’t either. T guess, Leon, you done just what Lige Butler would hev rae | under the sarcumstances. I’m goin’ back now, the biggest idiot what ever rode an Indian horse in these parts.” He struck Martevelde’s steed with his hand and having seen it bound away turned the head of his own beast toward the south. Far away appeared a line of light—the burn- ing village of the Snakes, and the guide kept his eyes fastened upon it as he rode leisurely along. The chase had been fruitless. He had not only lost the bandit of the plains; but he was far from Sun-Dance and Dandy Jack who might have fallen victims to fire or the tomahawk in the doomed town. oat ‘‘T wish thar war Mgnt pmees hyar!” ted Butler, again and again as he rode along. RY jest like to git before it, an’ let it kick me tvrenty-five miles!” Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. ee CHAPTER - XVIL THE ENDING GF TWO RIDES. ‘‘ HEAVEN help me an’ keep me from beneath the feet of these mad horses! It was the girl Estil who uttered this short but fervent prayer,as the stampeded horses head- ed by Little River, the Tlamath’s steed, rushed upon her, still in the arms of Whittles the trai- tor. The shock was terrible! Luke’s horse, as we have seen, was borne backward, himself and horse and the girl—flung, as if by some tremen- dous arm, into the very midst of the herd. As she struck, her hands closed upon a flying mane, and she felt herself carried on amid the thunder of hoofs, and the wild concert of neighs. Kstil had no time to think of any thing but self preservation, and that seemed to lie in her strength. If she could cling to the animal which bore her on at such rapid gait she was as- sured of ultimate deliverance from the doom that threatened her, for the horses could not run forever. | ; Therefore, she clung to the heavy mane with a terrible tenacity, but soon realizing that she was liable at any moment to be struck by the bounding fore feet of the frightened beast, she eres to find safety by a seat on the horse’s ck. So swinging to and fro with a swaying mo- tion she soon threw her right foot up over the fore shoulder, and in a moment more was upon the mustang’s back—a veritable wild rider of a wild steed. Clinging to the long mane and rid- ing with the easy motion of the equestrienne, Estil felt a sense of delight in the dangerous situation. She was at least safe from the horri- ble danger of being trodden to death, and not without hope that ata propitious moment she could drop from the creature’s back and find a safe retreat in some covert of woods or plain. At length she saw a epee something. What it was she did not know; but the horses seemed to greet it with whinnies of delight and quickened their lessening speed. Very soon thereafter Estil knew that she was approaching a river, and the stampeders plunged madly into the water. They drank with inor- dinate greed while the girl looked on, her li parched, and her mouth full as it were with the punishing alkali dust of the plains. It was a long time before the horses quenched their thirst, and then they turned from the river without permitting their fair young prisoner one drop to cool her tongue. A few cottonwoods on the bank promised to afford shade and rest for the horses, and hailin the grass with eagerness, they began to roll. Then it was that Estil particularly noticed the steed that had borne her through that long ride now happily at an end, though safety still re- mained unassured. He was a beautiful iron gray with faultless limbs and a mien which proclaimed him a king among hisrace. As Estil looked, he threw his head around and fixed his eyes upon her ina human-like look; large eyes they were, and glit- tering behind their fringe of alkali dust. ~ The m:rks of a lasso encircled his arched neck, and a band was visible on his shoulder. All at once he walked away and selected a grassy spot for his roll. Estil saw the movement and divining the steed’s intention leaped to the ground. Free at last! but in the midst of scores of In- dian horses liable at any moment to become frightened and rush over her in a panic. e shrunk against a tree at the thought of her ree danger while the iron gray began his wal- Oo Ww. ‘Water! water!” gasped Estil turning to the river, and with the strength of desperation she moved slowly but with eagerness. to the coveted oal. ‘*Thank Heaven for this!” she as she fell forward at last, her lips touching the water, muddy and impure, but clear and sweet toher. She drank long and greedily, quenching the awful thirst that raged within, and at last fell back with a cry of thankfulness on the river’s The moment when Dandy Jack found himself in the midst of the fire, as it were, was the most exciting one of his life. He scarce could stir, for the arm of his rescuer was about him, and the roughest of faces was d against his. A strong north wind rushed down the fire- fringed avenue; it gave the boy the air which he breathed with joy; but it did not seem to re- vive his companion. The horse never faltered. As if conscious of ——— ee eee ee En memneennnennneneeeeernnneeeeeennnmneemeem ———_—$—_—_—_—$_—$_—_$—$_$___ —— ——_—— ce ome em i Dandy Jack’s unspeakable delight, the red gantlet was ended. Out from the fiery hell dashed the Indian horse, still ing his riders; over the black- ened ground where smoked the ruins of wig- was, into the night dark as Erebus, and heavy with the stench of burning hides. The strange rescuer did not show any signs of life, even after the fire had been , and Jack at last felt the cheek getting cold. The arm around him relaxed when he made a movement to disentangle self, and, as with great effort he freed himself from the touch of the cheek, he spoke to his deliverer. ‘* We're out of the fire now and still in the land of the living?’ he said. ‘‘ Hadn’t we bet- ter stop and take our bearings? I owe youa life for you came in the nick of time.” There was no reply, and the boy felt perplex- ed. He could see the outlines of the figure which he addressed; he could touch it, but the expres- sion and the reason for the silence were hidden from him, ‘“‘Tt’s mighty queer!” Jack murmured to him- self. ‘‘The fellow can’t be asleep. It’s no time for noddin’!” The horse was going on, but slowly durin these moments, and Jack had made him quite comfortable on his back, “Tm going to see about this!” he said firmly at last. ‘‘ Not another step will I go till I find why you keep your mouth shut, old fellow!” e seized the rein and stopped the horse, and finally disengaged himself from his rescuer. As he did so the unknown swayed to the left, and then to Dandy Jack’s utter astonishment, fell to the ground! ‘Tt beats the Jews!” the amazed youth ex- claimed as he sprung from the horse, but kept his hand on the bridle-rein. ‘‘ The fellow acts like a dead man.” The boy rider now bent over the object lying motionless before him. His eyes accustomed to the darkness were becoming useful, and he saw that the unknown was an Indian. Dandy Jack’s hand assisted him in the inspec- tion; it moved over the body to come in con- tact with a feathered barb, and forced the boy back with a startling cry our hero said. " : Now Tit try re was around us, I expect. Now to find out who he is. Mebbe——” A sudden recognition broke the sentence; the brass buckle pla of the Indian’s belt with its legend ‘*U.8.” told the story. ‘It is Sun-Dance!” cried the boy. ‘‘ Twice has he saved my life! The skunks shot him in the side; but dead though he was he carried me through the fire. Sun-Dance, you're the whitest hearted Indian that ever lived, and I’ll pay them back for that arrow-shot.” e boy rose and shook his fist at the light that told him where the Indian town was being blotted from existence. ° ‘‘Sun-Dance was worth your whole sneaking nation!” he shouted. ‘‘ When you shot him you robbed me of the best Indian friend a white ever had. I’ve got another friend, Red Jack Rabbit; but I’ve seen him for the last time, no doubt. I bless the man who fired your red nest to-night, and I think the day is coming when Dan y Jack will be a thorn in your side. [I’m tting used to this wild life. Now let me find Festi and old Lige, and I'll feel like astonishing the natives.” Dandy Jack ceased, and the horse looking around saw him looking tenderly into the scar- red face of Sun-Dance. It was all over with the young Tlamath; the eatest foe the Snake nation ever had was no r their dread. | | His E nenierpaling with Long Lige had proved of short duration; but during it his bullet fad made the red clan chieftainless, and the last act of his life had been one of unselfish heroism. CHAPTER XVIIL HO! FOR THE COAST! ‘LISTEN, Dandy Jack! Thar the sound of that horse ag’in! Ef Lige Butler believed in ghosts—” : ‘‘'You’d swear it was one, eh? “That’s jest what {’d do. _ The critter’s stop- ped now. P’raps it is the Injun’s horse what casas up in the night an’ stampeded the cor- a oP might be!” admitted Dandy Jack, mus- ingly. | _ Lang Lige dy ne reply, Dut with his head nt to the west w or a repetition of the sounds which had onchained his atten- the duty assigned him, he daghed on until, to | tion. ” cS GomiGcyeoe “ An arrow in the side, just like the dog had,”. ‘**He’s dead! he died when the. f A oa << i re ——— ~~ —— Se