Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 70 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 Beadle’s - —— Half-Dime Library. peered around him to see whether there was any | and I flatter myself that he did not misjudge me. object in view upon which he might exercise his skillasa marksman. He had scarcely occupied a minute thus, when he started, and staring for another instant, dodged behind the tree-trunk against which he had been ean: ‘*By Jove! if there ain’t an Indian this very minute!” he gasped, trembling with agitation; “sitting on a log, too, as though he knew I was about and had givenupall hope. Now, if he’ll only sit stilla few minutes longer, he’s a gone case, sure!” Carefully raising his rifle, Percy pressed it against the side of the tree, and sighted at the individual, who was sitting upon a fallen tree scarcely a hundred yards away, as motionless as if carved in stone, totally unmindful of the ter- rible danger in which he was placed. It required considerable time for Fitzsimmons to get the ‘‘range” of the Indian, and the gun was so fearfully heavy, that he regretted not having brought a step-ladder with him, upon which to rest it, when about to fire. However he finally got the thing in shape, and blaze away. The instant it was fired, Percy dropped his piece, craned his neck forward, and peered in the direction of his game to see the result. There sat the Indian stationary and unmoved, precisely in the position in which he had seen him at first. ‘‘ Killed so suddenly that he don’t know what hurt him,” whispered the marksman, with his eyes still fixed intently uponhim. ‘ll get my knife ready, while he se over.” Percy opened his small pen-knife, and grasped it firmly, but when he was ready the Indian hadn’t toppled a bit. ‘‘That’s strange,” exclaimed the hunter, as he stealthily stooped down and picked up his gun. “‘T guess [ll try another shot, as it looks as though I’ve only wounded him, and it will be merciful to give him another to put him out of his misery.” As this was the first time he had ever loaded a n, he consumed considerable time in so doing. asoning upon philosophical principles he man- aged at length to complete the process in a cor- rect manner, and drawing back the hammer of his gun, he sighted with greater care at the im- movablo red-man that preserved his seat with such imperturbable gravity. ‘‘That finished him, sure!” exclaimed Percy, the instant his gun was discharged, hurrying forward for the purpose of completing the per- formance with the scalping operation. A rod or two separated him from his victim, when the latter turned his head, and demanded, in vigorous English: ss at in thunder you shootin’ at?’ Percy paused in dismay, as he now recognized in the speaker a white man, dressed in the garb of a hunter, who rose to his feet, and looked savagely at him, while he waited for the answer to his question. “T really beg pardon, but I took you for an Indian.” ** And did you shoot at me?” **T beg pardon—” ‘‘ That ain’t answerin’ me—I want to know did you shoot at me?” ‘*T must own that I did, but—” Further utterance was drowned in the bois- terous laughter of the hunter, who threw his head back, and Sages his hands against his sides, laughed till he was scarcely able to stand. ‘“You are a mystery to me,” said Percy, ap- proachiug closer as the laughter showed signs of subsidence. “If a man shot me twice, I don’t think I’d feel much like laughing at him.” ‘‘Ef aman shot at yer, and the bullet went about a hundred yards over your head, I think you'd yell a little.” “But surely you are mistaken about that, for ow—” ‘Dry up, fer you don’t know nothin’, ‘cepting pr’aps your name, an’ whar you come from, an’ who lost yer, an’ what you’re trying to do, which is what I axes yer.” ‘ Owing to the frightful cle in which Percy had first placed his interlocutor, he felt under t ie ge aey to him, and gave the informa- ion asked, in a brief, but entirely satisfactory manner. The hunter listened until he had finished, and then said: ‘ve heard tell of you, down at Hugh’s. He told me the other night that he was expectin’ you from Philadelphy, and that you were a great hunter, come out here to have a little sport.” PPescy stroked his fuzzy mustache, with an air of self-sufficiency, as he made answer: ‘‘Uncle Hugh is a man of great penetration, | I haven’t my rifle with me, and you see I had to fire a couple of loads out of his, before I could get the hang of the blamed thing. May I ask your name?” ‘*Zip Smith.” Percy made a frantic leap forward, thrusting out his hand as he did so, exclaiming in a most gasping manner: ‘* Give us your hand on that !—you’re the very man I’m looking for. Aunt Han. told me to look out for you, because you were so well ac- quainted with the woods hereabouts. I’m glad to meet you, and we’ll bunt together for a week, sharing our game equally—” ‘‘Not much,” interrupted Zip, who was not without a waggish vein in hisnature. ‘‘ A man of your style and get up, don’t need any one with him to bother him when he’s goin’ to shoot. Some of these days I'll take a little tramp with yer, but not to-day.” “Oh! it makes no difference to me,” said Per- cy, very loftily. ‘** I only mentioned it as a favor to PP bo ip now put on a serious expression, and spoke with the voice of a man in deadly earnest. ‘*{ must tell you one thing, pardner, and that is that thar’s danger in these parts of the very worst kind—” ‘* Glad to hear it,” interrupted Percy; ‘ that’s what brought me here.” “And that’s just what you'll want to get away from afore you’ve been here a week. I’ve hunted in Minnesota for twenty-five years, long afore thar war a single house whar St. Paul now stands, and I reckon I know somethin’ about the Sioux and Crows, and | kin tell you thar’s goin’ to be the devil to pay hereabouts mighty soon. What I want to say to you, pardner, is to caution you ag’in’ gittin’ too fur into these woods, fur [ve seen sign of the var- mints sin’ yesterday sun-up, and I’m mighty sorry that Hugh Fullerton druv his stakes so fur up this way, whar he’s ten miles from the near- est settlement, ’cause it’s my opine, he’s got to dig out of these parts blamed soon, ef he and his wife expect to save thar ha’r. It’s fortinit that the gal is down to the settlement now, whar they can’t hurt her purty face, and I’ve sent word to her by young Ned Hosmer, that she must stay thar till the folks come down, though it’s just like her not to do it, but to pitch fur her home so as to be with the old folks, when the thing comes. Howsumever, don’t you stay long, or go fur into these woods, but dig for Hugh’s purty soon.” And having delivered himself of this rather rambling speech, which certainly contained a ood deal, the hunter Zip turned on his heel and isappeared in the wood. Percy Fitzsimmons stood for a moment or two after his rae (gga digesting the information thus received. ‘*That chap seems to understand himself,” he remarked, throwing up his head, as if addressing some person standing before him. ‘Of ceurse he couldn’t make much money in the dry-goods business in Chestnut street, but he’s at home in the woods, and I don’t suppose he often goes hungry. ‘* But it looks to me like presumption in him to keep giving me advice, as though I was a woman, and don’t understand the rifle myself. True, I never practiced any thing but the pistol at the gallery at home, but the principle is the same in both cases, and I don’ go home till I show them a specimen of my skill.” With this resolution he carefully reloaded his rifle, and throwing it over his shoulder, —— into the thickest of the wood, casting furtive glances about him all the time in search of his game, : And this brings us back again to the openin of our story, where Percy paused for a momen and muttered. ‘Zip told me that we were in a good game country and that I must keep a look-out which is just what I've been doing for the last half hour.” The ardent wish which the amateur felt of meeting with some royal game seemed destined to be gratified, as he had scarcely completed the soliloquy with which our story opened, when a crackling of the bushes, and a swaying of the undergrowth announced the approach of some animal, and, divining the direction whence it came, Perey sprung back and rested his rifle in the crotch of a sapling, the muzzle pointing di- ia | toward the dangerous quarter. ‘A grizzly bear. I know in his tread!” he whispered, in no little excitement; ‘he’s my game, sure.” On came the brute, unconscious of his doom, until the outlines were discernible, as the bushes began to separate in front, and quickening his aim from the fact that the animal was coming directly toward him, Percy made sure of hitting the head and pulled the trigger. There was a frenzied bellow, and down went the creature on its knees, then over on its side, where it gave up the ghost, just as the panting Fitzsimmons dashed up to the spot. ‘**Confound it, if I haven’t killed somebody’s cow!” exclaimed the dismayed sportsman, look- ing hurriedly about him to see whether the in- dignant owner was anywhere in sight. “It’s strange how I made such a mistake. I wonder whether she can be revived.” He stooped down and made an anxious “‘ diag- nosis,” of the case, the result of which was the discovery that the bovine was stone dead, and consequently beyond the reach of medicine or surgery. “And Pil bet a hat that the cow belongs to uncle Hugh,” added the troubled Percy as he rose to his feet. ‘“‘ However I'll keep mum about it, and he’ll think it was done by some of the Ravens, or Crows that Zip has been saying so much about.” There was some consolation in this thought, and bearing in mind the mistakes he had com- mitted since starting out upon his hunt, Percy aor resolved to use more caution in the mat- r, ‘Tl let the next animal come a good deal closer, so that I can scrutinize it from head to tail before I fire. I’ve seen so many pictures of the bear and buffalo in Peterson’s window on Chestnut street, that I am sure I can identify it without trouble.” As he pressed through the wood, and found himself traversing a broad, deep ravine, the warning of Zip came to him, and a suspicion troubled him that he was venturing too far into an entirely unknown piece of forest. Still it was early in the day, and he was loth to return empty-handed, aunt had assured him of the abundance of game. He was quite desirous of establishing his reputation as a lass marksman, and so he determined to press forward until something substantial rewarded his labor. ‘“*T’ve heard tell of cow buffaloes,” he said to himself, as he walked along, ‘and it may be af- ter all that that was the creature I popped, but I guess I won’t say any thing about it for the present.” A very prudent conclusion. ‘* Hello!” This hasty exclamation was caused by the sight of a deer that dashed along, directly up the ravine, before him. There was no mistak- ing the identity of the animal, and, as soon as Percy had recovered from the shock caused by its rush, as it sped like an arrow up the ravine, he drew the heavy rifle to his shoulder, and let fly at the rapidly-vanishing game. Whether the Seat was struck or not can never be known; but, had one been watching it in- tently at the moment of firing, he would have discovered no change in its gait or manner, so that there is strong reason to decide against the accuracy of Percy’s shooting. ‘‘T once read somewhere, that when a hunter fires his gun, the first thing he does is to load again, and that’s me.” d he did, with a remarkable deliberation of movement, not stirring from his steps until the whole thing was completed. Certain that the deer was mortally wounded, Fitzsimmons passed on up the ravine, as fast as = in the expectation of coming upon his y at every step; but, when he had gone fully a mile, making several serious rents in coat and pants, he began to feel somewhat skeptical, and came to another pause. ‘““T suppose the animal has crawled away or climbed up some tree to die by himself, and so there isn’t any more use of loo for him.” After all the conviction began to creep Over Percy that he would have to defer his Nimrod exploits until the afternoon, or until next day, Consulting his repeater, he found that it was past eleven o’clock, and that if he wished to reach his uncle’s in time for the old-fashioned dinner-hour, he had not a moment to linger, “There must be a shorter route homeward,” he concluded, as he took several swallows from a flask that was drawn from an inside pocket, ‘‘and this seems to be it.” _ As he spoke, he struck into another ravine, that crossed nearly at right angles the one in which he stood, leading in the direction in which po pa a the house of his uncle to be situ- ated. It is hardly necessary to state the result of such a proceeding as this. With no experience whatever in making his way through the forest cially since his . GOmicdooks i 4