Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 661 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

10 the water. Still there was no way of escaping except by taking to the river and swimming around to where the banks were low. To do this he would be compelled to leave his firearms behind, and this he regretted to do; but he was determined to get out of there, and so laying aside his rifle, revolversand cartridge- belt, and divesting himself of all his clothing except shirt and pants, he was ready for a swim. By this time it was quite dark, especially in the abyss and along the river, and wading into the water, which deepened gradua}ly, Ben was about to strike out when his attention was ar- rested by a faint sound like that made by the dip of a paddle. He peered into the gloom that hung over the river and listened. Again he heard the sound. It was the dip of a paddle beyond doubt, but it was on the opposite side of the river, and this fact nonviheed the boy that it was Harry Ashmore and the two Indian girls, and he resolved to cross the river and in- tercept them, or, at least, ascertain who was in the boat. So laying back in the water upon his back, with his hunting-knife between his teeth ready for instant use should it be needed, he struck out. Noiselessly as a shadow, almost, he glided through the water and in a few minutes had ained the shadows of the other shore, and rest- ng upon the water he listened. He heard the dip of the paddle near. The boat was approach- ing, and, lying as he was, he could see the dim outlines of the craft and two occupants whom he made out to be the maidens, Singing Bird and Fawn-Eyes. The question at once occurred to him; Where was Harry? Had he left the irls to seek his own friends? or had they re- used his further friendship and protection on reaching the shore? While thus wondering the ripples from the row of the boat rolled against his face, and a was about to make his presence known when a little cry of fear broke from the maidens’ lips, and their boat came to a stand. And then he heard a voice say, in the unmistakable gut- turals of a savage: ‘‘U¢h! me catch young squaws—me drown them if scream—me big brave—me Cheyenne warrior—me Panther 'l'ail brave.” ‘‘Oh, Fawn-Eyes!” cried Singing Bird, ‘he is one of our dreaded enemies!”’ ‘‘ But, by Jeewhango! miss, ’m one of your boss friends,” said a voice on the other side of the canoe, and Banner Ben laid his hands on the gunwale of the boat and deliberately glared into the eyes of the no doubt startled ‘bi brave” on the other side. ‘‘ Now, you cuss terror °—the boy went on, addressing the sav- age—‘‘let me seé you spill these gals out of this boat and I’llsplit your ugly face wide open!” ‘‘ Waugh!” exclaimed the indignant savage, ‘¢ me kill—scalp Little Devil!” As he concluded the savage sunk in the water and dived under the canoe quicker than a flash. Banner Ben was expecting this and was ready for him knife in hand. one grappled in a deadly encounter and fought like two mad lions. Down into the deep water they sunk—rising again, their arms and legs beating the surface of the river into a foam around them. Fawn-Eyes paddled her boat on a few paces out of reach of the combatants and again stopped. The maidens peered into the gloom, their hearts almost ceasing to beat so great was their anxiety for the triumph of their young friend. | But the conflict soon ended, and then they heard the victor swimming back toward them. Their suspense now was greater than ever, for they knew not which of the two had been slain, ind filled with a vague terror Fawn-Eyes was about to dip her paddle and flee the spot, when the swimmer glided alongside the canoe and, grasping the side of the boat, exclaimed: ‘Whew! it’s all right, gals; I pee dredged the river with that big brave. Gals, my name’s Ben Banner.” 1 “Oh, thank you! thank you, Ben Banner!” cried Singing Bird, in an ecstasy of joy; ‘‘oh, how I do wish I dare invite you to our village. Ben Banner is a brave boy; twice has he helped to rescue Btoopine Bear’s daughters from the warriors of Panther Tail. Singing Bird will ak well of you and your friends to Stooping ar, and perhaps he will send 2g you to come to his camp in friendship.” P > | Ciba ees “Thank you, Singing Bird, for your kind, grateful words: but the Sioux hateme. They call me Little Deviland hanker after my scalp; but that don’t make me think any the less of ov gals. I like a pretty girl “~ hope [ll meet ir | -you_some time again, Singin when we (Saas gan have a good, long, nice talk Butsay, gals, i. as - ort; “ ’ . yA gy . a ee meee ’ x 4 7. Fires et he ie » - a .* Fy —s } } Tee a e's! LL : +, . of dal eo EAP yc: what became of the young man that helped you away in the boat?” “The Cheyennes shot him and—” ‘Hark, Singing Bird!” interrupted Fawn- Eyes, ‘‘ some one comes!” All listened and heard the dip of many pad- dles coming down the river, and dropping her voice the Indian girl commanded: _ ‘*Go quick, pale-face! many boats are com- ing! They are Sioux boats, and the warriors may kill you!” _*Ob, Fawn-Eyes! we will intercede for—” Singing Bird began, but the rest of her speech was lost to Banner Ben, for the frightened In- dian girl dipped her paddle and the boat glided ee ‘‘ By Jeewhnango!” mentally exclaimed Banner Ben, ‘* that’s bout as cool as this rollin’ river. That poor Ingin gal don’t know herself she’s so skeered. She means well by me, but the idea of her folks killin?me after I’ve done what I have for them seems absurd; but there’s no dis- count on that white girl, Singing Bird. By Jeewhango! I kind o’ like her, for she’s pretty asa fawn. But poor Harry! I reckon he was killed, though the girls did not say he was for sure. And the rest of the boys: I don’t know whether I’m the only one alive or not; but, if so, I won’t be long if that me of Sioux find me, so I’ll steam "long down the river.” o less than half a dozen canoes filled with Sioux warriors were coming down the river not far away, and to escape all danger of dis- covery the young borderman swam off down- stream keeping close in by the bank. He had gone perhaps forty rods when he stopped to rest under a great towering rock that projected over the river several feet. He crawled from the water and laid down upon a dry spot where the shadows were intense. He had been there but a few moments when he heard a sound that resembled a sigh of pain. It seem- ed to come from the rock behind him, and in a few moments later he heard it again plainer than before. In fact, it was almost a groan and was soon followed by a kind of a delirious muttering. There was some one in the rock back of him—some one whose labered breath- i told of hg pain and suffering. anner Ben at once made up his mind that there was a cavern running back into the rock, and that in this cavern was Harry Ashmore, At least, this conclusion seemed possible, and the lad at once determined to ascertain the facts in the case. Rising to his feet, and uided by the labored breathing of the un- nown, he moved straight into the cavern; and as soon as he found he had entered it, he got down on his hands and knees and began crawl- ing forward feeling his way with extreme cau- tion through the darkness. Before he was aware of his proximity to the unknown, his hand came in contact with some- thing that moved, and then his ears were greet- ed by a voice distressed with pain, asking: ‘* Singing Bird—Fawn-Eyes, are you here yet? Ben at once recognized the voice as that of Harry Ashmore, and at once exclaimed: ‘‘ Great Jee-whango! Harry Ashmore, what’s wrong here?” ‘‘ Ah! it’s you, my dear friend, Ben,” replied Harry; ‘‘but where are those noble, great- hsarted Indian girls’—and the other boys—how did the fight come out, Banner? Did the girls send you bere, Ben?” **T’m sorry to it Harry, our boys got lick- ed in ,the fight, an 1 don’t know whether any of them escaped alive ornot. Them gals I met not far from here on their way to the village. They told me you’d been shot, but before they could tell me whether you were dead or alive, a noise interrupted us, and Fawn-Eyes, who's skeeryer than a fawn, ulled out and left me hangin’on the water like a shadder. But are you badly hurt, Harry?” . ‘Yes, Ben, shot through and through while crossing the river. I fainted before we reach- ed here, but them heroic girls, God bless them, dragged me into this cave and bathed my brow and stanched my wounds, and when I recover- ed consciousness they departed, promising to return as soon as they dare with food and their medicine-man, who they assured me would not betray my presence to the Sioux.” _ “By Jee-whango! it’s queer they didn’t say anything more to me’bout you, but then they was skeered bout to death. But I am awful sorry, Harry, to hear of your bein’ hurt, for we're ina bad shape. Ill dothe best I can for you, pard, quires it. ‘You are a brave, kind boy, Ben, and I hope I’m here to die by you if need re- I may live to repay you. It was to gratify my ‘* Only . » 4 v s r*e ‘ > + i “* . “ Pr oan 4 o es . As j +4 ; ; “ ’ ‘a “' : | blood and his face + ws i P . e Ps: oA f “eet ‘EO ~ J os. . Pp; 2. % “e ay i Banner Ben, the Wildfire of the Prairie. wishes that you came into this perilous coun- try. But, Banner, there are some matches in my vest pocket in a metallic case. I wish you would get them and see if you can strike light enough from them toexamine my wounds, I | was shot in the back, the ball coming out in front just below the right nipple, and | am suf- fering great pain.” Ben took the matches and struck one. Inits | light he saw Harry’s bosom was saturated with , ale and pinched with pain. , further the match burned ; Before he could ook out. Striking another he looked around him in hopes of seeing something out of which he could make a more lasting and steadier light. "In the niches and pockets in the wall he saw a number of nests of some gloomy-minded birds. They had been built of straws and tiny twigs, and being dry would afford means for a light. So Ben set to work and gathered them all ina heap and then applying a match to one of them proceeded to examine Harry’s wounds, renew- mg his light at intervals with a bird’s nest, ut after he had examined his friend’s in- juries he had no means of knowing how serious they were; and yet he was pretty well satisfied that, situated as they were without food, couch or medicine, nothing but a miracle could ever save him. Ben dressed his friend’s wounds the best he could, and then putting out the light sat down and talked tohim. And if there is anything of a medicinal-healing nature to a sick manin the’ genial and social companionship of his attend- ant, surely Harry Ashmore received a_ full measure of this kind treatment in Banner Ben’s never-ending flow of words that sparkled with whimsical wit and humor, and abounded with droll philosophy remarkable in a boy of his age and limited education. And thus the hours were passed away. It was nearly agro before Harry closed his eyes in slumber, and feeling that there was no likelihood of immediate danger, Banner Ben stretched himself upon the floor of the cavern for a much needed rest and sleep. He soon fell into a refreshing slumber and slept until he was awakened by the sound of voices, Springing to his feet hesaw it was daylight out- side the cavern, and even the gloom in the en- | trance to the cave was partially dispelled; but — what startled aad surprised him most was the. presence, in a canoe in the mouth of the retreat, of two savage warriors, a white man whom he recognized as the renegade, Dr. Gwynn, and a young white girl dressed in the garb of an In- dian woman. Harry Ashmore was still sound asleep and, as the two savages were already advancing into the cave, Ben had no time to arouse him, so clutching his hunting-knife, the brave boy retreated into the darkest corner of the cavern and stood ready to die in defense of his own and Harry Ashmore’s life! % CHAPTER XII. $ RATTLER SERIOUSLY WOUNDED. To be a successful border scout, Indian-fighter and mountain detective, a man must be pos- sessed of a fertile brain, quickness of perception and decision, and strategic acumen that he may act upon the spur of the moment underall | circumstances. These faculties Kit Bandy pos- sessed to an eminent degree, and to them he was indebted for his life on many occasions, but when the old man found himself pinned to the ground, as it were, in Moaning Canyon, by a band of his most desperate enemies; his fruitful mind could conceive no way out of the dilemma, and he finally concluded that his time to die had come atlast. — However, the arrival of his reputed wife, Sabina, put a different phase upon the matter and his hopes revived. But just what course she might pursue to effect his release he could not imagine;, but as she had never failed on previous occasions to circumvent fully as wily a foe, he had no doubt but that she would be. ual to the present ageless hen the terrible explosion finally came, and the dirt, gravel and leaves began to rain down upon him, the old detective made up his mind that a Vesuvius had broken loose, and that he would be buried alive. But from amid the débris, however, he was finally dug out and his bonds severed, and as he arose to his feet in the Egyptian gloom, bruised and bleeding, his rescuer exclaimed in excited tones: ‘‘ Now, scat, Kitsie, you sinner!” ‘Bless you, Ichabod—I mean ’Bina, bless you, ole gal,” grasping his friend’s hand, * but what on earth happened#—what bu’sted among them red and white devils?” | ’ p\ c , re 4 Vy . a hay, « va ae ER Bai little package of nitro-glycerine _ \ / | eg : " ‘ ; aN } gh) " » , : A t - e - :*% - ~ ~ es ar = eee eg Tc i aE cu i I