Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 661 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

Banner Ben, the Wildfire of the that I carried to use as a cosmetic for my com- plexion,” replied Sabina, for she his deliverer was. ‘*Horn o’ Joshua! it was a reg’ler voleanoe, and I war afraid I was goin’ to be old Hercu- laneum himself; ‘but my blood’s got started now in my limbs, and I reckon we'd better make ourselves seldom in this gulch. Jewhiz! ust listen to them howlin’ varmints! This’s oanin’ Canyon for sure now; but come on, Bina, ole gal.” ‘ So saying, they groped their way from the midst of the ruins to where Sabina’s mule stood. _After Kit had given the old woman direc- tions as to how to find their camp, she mounted her animal and moved away down the canyon Saar Bandy took a near cut on foot across the For two hours the old mountaineer swung along through the night at arapid pace. The fate of his friends was all the time uppermost in his mind. He knew not whether a single one of them had escaped death, though he had every reason to hope that Harry Ashmore was . alive. He finally reached the valley in which the fight had occurred and was approaching the bat- tle-ground when he suddenly stumbled over the prostrate body of a man from whose lips escaped @ groan. athering himself up he turned and, peering down at the unknown in the blackness of the place, asked: “Who's here?” | ‘‘ Ah{ it’s you, Kitsie, old pard.” It was the voice of Old Rattler. ‘*Yes, Tom; but what im the world’s wrong? Are you hurt?” ‘Yes; I was killed in that terrible fight,” was the answer, given in a tone that told the old hunter was delirious; ‘‘and so you went under, too, Kit?” | ‘Why, no, Tom,” Kit replied, kneeling by his old friend and taking his hand; ‘‘ I’m afraid you’re off, old pard.” ‘* Kitsie, you hadn’t ought to joke here,” re- proved Rattler, in a delirious tone. ps a hs where do you think you are?” asked andy. $ nd the other world, Kit; and howdarkitis. I can’t see you, pard. But how natural your voice is! Ah,me, Kitsie! if we'd had a leetle more re- gard for the truth on earth we might’a’ had quar- ters where there’s a bit o’ light in the other—” ‘‘ Rattler, I tell you we’re on the same old mother earth wLere we war born.” ‘‘ Hal ha! Kitsie, you’ve the same old spirit, if you are a new-comer in these regions, So the other. boys are not here, are they? Call Ban- ner Ben, Kitsie; he may be near.” ‘*Pard, you’re hurt, and I’m goin’ to carry youtocamp. Let me lift you, Rattler.” Bandy lifted the old hunter in his arms, and as he did so Rattler cried out with pain. But tenderly as he could Kit bore his brave old friend through the darkness over the uneven and almost unknown valley. It was a long and laborious tramp—a task the old detective could never have performed had it not been one of duty and affection. ; But finally the camp which Kit and Banner Ben had left in the dusk of evening to make a reconnoissance in the direction of the Indian vil- e was reached. And here another bitter sur- prise and disappointment met the old man. Of all the friends whom he had left there all were one except Saybrook and Fisher, two of the four unters who had joined them the day before as they came up the river, and these two were both ering from wounds received in the fight. It was not often that Bandy became despon- dent, but when he had looked over the situation his spirit became ahh depressed, Tn order to examine the wounds of his friend Rattler it became necessary to strike a light, although it was dangerous to do so, for there were no doubt other foes abroad, He found that, Rattler had been wounded in several places, but the most serious was from "a blow on the head, evidently made by a flying tomahawk, and the one that had stricken him own unconscious. / ““Pm afeard Rattler’s wuss than he seems,” said the old detective, after he had carefully washed and dressed the hunter’s wounds; *‘ he's weak as a willow from loss 0’ blood, and that _ jolt on the head may produce inflammation o’ the brain. But the brave old warrior’s restin’ easier now and he may come round all right,” Rattler had ceased his delirious mutterings and sunk into a quiet sleep, Old Kit, with the devotion of the Good Samaritan, sat by his side and kept his head wet with cloths dipped ina little spring hard by, : ————e Saybrook and Fisher stood guard by turns until morning, and when the sun came up it dispelled much of the gloom from the hunters’ spirits as well as from over the hills and val- leys. To Old Kit’s great joy, Rattler awoke soon after daylight in full possession of his ‘mental faculties, though somewhat weak and feverish. But all was a blank to him since he had fallen in the darkness, fighting, up to the moment he awoke, Kit told him of his finding him in the woods and carrying him to camp, and had a lit- tle laugh over the old fellow’s delirious sojourn in the realms of darkness in another world. ‘* And didn’t ye find any Ingins near whar I laid, Kitsie?” Rattler asked. ‘No, nor I wouldn’t ’a’ found you if I hadn't stumbled over ye.” ‘*Great Rosycrusians! pard, I wish you could ’a’ see’d the work o’ the tempest in that wood. You could ’a’ walked from near whar I lay to the river on the carcasses o’ the red-rinds that I destroyed. I shot the last one follerin’ me dead after the hatchet that struck me down’d left his hand. But poor little Banner Ben! I’m afeard the boy is dead. He stumbled into an abyss as we fought on the retreat, and that war the last I see’d or heard o’ him. Bravelad! I teil you, Kitsie, he was an untamed tempest—a lily- lipped hummer on a fight. But, Kitsie,do you s’pose that white Ingin gal war the gal you're lookin’ for—Harry Ashmore’s sweetheart?” ‘‘It may be her and it may not. In fact, it are just mere suspicion that the disfiggered Jessie Hampton, now in Kentucky, is not the true Jessie, and that the latter might possibly be alive and a captive among the Ingins. She may’ve been killed by the raidin’ Cheyennes, but certain it is, if thar be a conspiracy the conspirators have put her out o’ the way o’ communicatin’ with friends if they hav’n't killed her. It was in hopes that Harry might recognize the girl Jessie, if she the white gal was, that I sent him to help the girls away. But where’s Harry now? is he dead? or alive and a captive in the Sioux village?” ‘“The good Lord only knows,” replied Rat- tler, ‘‘ but it’d seem queer for even a red-rind to hold a man a captive after he’d saved his life. But, Kitsie, what are we goin’ to do here? It isn’t very safe, is it, for us to stay round here?” ‘‘ Pm expectin’ my wife, Sabina, all the time, Tom, and when she comes, if comes she does, she may aa some information from the In- gin village. I told her how to find our camp afore we parted last night.” ‘‘Ah! Kit Bandy, you old deceiver! that [chabod Flea—your disguised Sabina—is an immense scheme—a gigantic deceptien. You'd been dead ages ago, Kit, if it hadn’t been for that ever-present yet unseen spirit, Ichabod Flea. A glorious old deceiver and fertile- brained deestroyer are that very [ch. And the fact o’ it is, Kitsie, it begins to look to me as though Sabina—lchabod Flea—did all the fig- gerin’ and head-work while you did the fightin’ and lip-work—that Flea’s the key to Kit Ban- dy’s success as a Mountain Deetective— Ah! who comes there?” ‘‘ Ah!” exclaimed Old Kit, ‘‘’tis she, Sabina, my wife,” CHAPTER XIII. STARTLING REVELATIONS. WE will now follow Singing Bird and Fawn- Eyes back to the Indian village. After leaving Banner Ben so abruptly the In- dian girl paddled almost noiselessly up the river —so silently, indeed, that she succeeced in det ting past the canoes of her warrior friends com- ing down the stream to investigate the sounds of the recent battle without discovery. _ By a vigorous use of the paddle the girls finally came in sight of the villages, whose scores of lights twinkled like stars in the darkness, and a few minutes later they had landed and had en- tered ieee Their absence had caused no particular un- easiness in connection with the sounds of battle heard down the river. It had been their custom of late to go up the river, and as no one had seen them go down the stream it was generally 3 gate they had taken their accustomed boat- ride up the river. The chief, Stooping Bear, however, questioned them closely about their prolonged absence, but with woman’s tact they studiously evaded giving even a hint of the per- ilous adventure they had had. They had a kindly and Christian object in doing so. They knew the hatred of the Sioux for the whites, and that the decree of many a war-council had gone forth that the scalp of Little Devil—Ban- “ner Ben—should be taken, and it was not only Age oe 4 ey uk. Re a | é = | BS Prairie, — _— — 12 to save the life of the gallant youth, but also that of Harry Ashmore, whom they had left in the cave wounded, that they had adopted a. course of silence in regard to the real facts of their evening’s experience. , Singing Bird, the white girl, at once repaired to her own lodge, in a prominent part of the vil- lage. Her returm was greeted by a young girl of abont her own age whom she addressed as Rose. The latter was dressed like an Indian. girl although she was white and decidedly lovely in face and form despite the uneasy expresssonm in her great blue eyes and the careworn look upon her face, The lodge was lit up with a rude stone lamp: and furnished with no little taste and skill. The floor was carpeted with soft furs and the walls tastily decorated with a hundred and one little things such as would please a girl’s fancy. ‘*My dear Birdie,” said Rose, as Singing Bird seated herself upon a couch of skins, ‘‘I am so lad you have returned, for 1 have been uneasy, or some reasen or other, ever since one of our scouts brought in the news that Panther Tail and his murderous outlaws were in these hills. But, Birdie, you are excited; what is the mat- ter, sister?” ‘**Oh;, Rose!” cried Singing Bird, in a low tone, ‘‘I have something dreadful to tell you; but Fawn-Eyes kept the secret from her father.” : , And as she spoke she arose and closed the en- trance to the tent; then seating herself by Rose, she told of their capture by Panther Tail and Jaguar Jim, their rescue and flight with the young pale-face stranger whom they left in the cavern seriously if not mortally wounded, their second rescue by Banner Ben and their flight: back to the village.” ‘*But why did you keep all this from the chief, Birdie?” ‘*For good reasons, Rose; the young pale- face asked us not to tell our friends where he was. He wasafraid they would slay him.” ‘* What! after saving the chief’s daughter?” exclaimed Rose. ‘‘ Is that Indian gratitude?” ‘*T do not think they would harm him, but we promised him we would say nothing and we have kept our word because he is a brave and ant man.” ‘** Did he tell you his name?” ‘* No; nor did I think to ask him; but anoth- er thing, Rose: he looks ever so much like the picture in your locket.” Rose gave a little cry as if of sudden pain. Laying her hand upon Birdie’s arm she asked with white, quivering lips: ‘* Birdie, are you jesting?” ‘* No, dear sister, I would not jest with you about one over whose memory you have shed so many ag Taking the locket from her bosom she handed it to Birdie, saying: ‘Look at it closely, Birdie, and tell me if nm still think the young pale-face resem- es it. ‘* Yes,” said Birdie, after looking for several moments at the picture in the jewel, ‘' it resem- bles him very much,” ‘Oh, Birdie! what if it should be— But it cannot be—and yet I cannot leave here without knowing sure. Oh,if I could go to the cave and see him! Birdie, howcan I get there before I goaway?#—but then you do not know, sister, that I am going away from here forever.” “Why, ! what do you mean?” exclaimed e. ‘* White Medicine has at last prevailed upon the chief to release me from captivity, and to- morrow morning we are to startaway.” ‘**Oh, Rose! 1s that a fact?’ cried Birdie, with unfeigned regret. ** Yes, and I wish sister,” replied Rose. ‘*T could not go away and leave my father, Rose, who has cast his lot for life with the In- dians; and even if I were going away I should not want White Medicine for a friend.” obey» smile flitted across Rose’s face as she replied: ‘Your dislike for White Medicine is very great, Birdie, I know; but he is very kind to me. I cannot think but that he is a good A on t anxiety to get out of capti our grea e et out of captivit may blind you to the real facts: but I Sos ; ne our sake, that I am wrong. Oh, I shall be so onesome when you go away! But, Rose,White Medicine is a great doctor, and if he is your “age he will go with you to the cave end P teena ; e me you were going with me, cine if Bf he ask him to. We face we would return and bring him food and — blankets.” en se ,IOOKS. ECO oung stranger’s wounds and givehimsome __