Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 70 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

eee C—O Taking down the paper, he was about to ae it upon his butter, when he chanced to giance at the label, which was ‘‘ Poison.” ‘‘ Whew!” gasped the exquisite, aghast, ‘‘ that is cutting a little closer than is comfortable.” Yielding to a singular impulse, for which it wes hard 4 account, Fitzsimmons carefully tied up the poison in the paper, and placed it in his coat pocket. ‘‘Tain’t exactly clear what I’m going to do with that, but perhaps I may have an oppor- tunity of eri be the diet of the noble red-man therewith, if he gets troublesome.” By this time Percy had meny well satisfied the pangs of hunger, and drawing an immense sigh of enjoyment, he muttered: ‘** Aunt Han. knows how to make bread and to churn butter—though I’m fearfully afraid I’ve squelched the original churn—and I only wish I could away this supply. I don’t think it will do to roll that butter and put it in my ket, as it is a little warmer outside than it 1s ere, but I'll take a slice or two of bread.” © This he managed to stow away about his per- son, without inconvenience, and feeling that he had thoroughly gorged himself not only with the bread, but with a pan of cold, creamy milk, he rose from his seat to leave. ‘*By Jove! Iam afraid that I have staid too long, but when a hungry fellow gets under full headway, it is hard to put down the brakes—” A chill of terror passed through the young man, as he heard distinctly the latch of the up- per door lifted, and instantly thereafter a foot- step upon the floor above his head. ‘* Indians !” was the thought that came to his mind, as he shrunk shivering in the corner, ‘and I’ve no way to get out of this muss.” The only means of egress was by going up- stairs, as the two windows that admitted the light were barred and very diminutive in size. So Percy grasped his gun and tremblingly awaited the issue of events, The faint hope that perhaps his friends had returned, was Pape wd dissipated by the sound of shuffling feet above, and several deep bass cjaculations that could only come from the throat of an Indian. They were in the room above, and the situa- tion of Percy Fitzsimmons could not well have been more painful. He had no doubt that the building wouid be burned, so that if, by aa possibility, his hiding-place was not discovered, .1e was certain of the other terrible alternative. ‘‘Confound them!” muttered the poor fellow, ‘‘this is a little the werst scrape 1 was ever in in all my life—”. Terror accumulated upon terror, for now he heard the latch of the door, leading to the cellar, lifted, as if some one were about to descend to tomahawk him. Percy shrunk back in the furthest corner, only praying that he had the ability to force himself into the solid wall behind him, while he fixed his eyes upon the top of the stairs, his heart throbbing painfully. Who shall depict his feelings when a huge moccasin came to view, as it was placed upon the first step, then the other sunk heavily apes the other step, displaying the ankles and leg- gings of what was certainly a stalwart Indian? Yes; one of the Sioux was on the point of ex- tending his explorations to the cellar, and there seemed scarcely one thousandth of a chance of avoiding detection. The feet and legs were followed by the body and then the head of a magnificently-form Sioux warrior, who, reaching the floor, stood motionless for a moment, while he looked curi- ously about the cellar. This, as we have remarked in another a Pe was dimly lighted, and coming from the wright sunshine above, it may have been that he saw objects only indistinctly; for, although his eyes seemed to light upon the shivering Fitzsimmons more than once, yet they passed on, as though they saw him not. The eye of the aboriginal next rested upon the shelf upon which the edibles reposed, and with a pig-like grunt he stepped rather hastily for- ward and reached his hand up, as though he too was not insensible to the pangs of hunger. ‘‘Oh, why—oh, why didn’t I spread some arsenic upon a piece of bread and bait that old rat?’ was the remorseful thought that crossed the mind of the trembling Fitzsimmons; “ that would have been an unexceptionable way of dis- ing of his claims.” But the Sioux did not manifest any desire to eat. He merely glanced at the crumbs, the mi- nified butter and exhausted milk-pan, and prob- ably concluded that some one “‘ had been there.’ 1en he paused and stood absolutely motion’ less for full a minute, as if listening to the sub- a Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. dued mecvang 06 feet and murmuring of voices over his hea And standing thus, directly in front of Fitz- simmons, he was a picture to behold. He must have been fully six feet and a half in hight, of matchless abe gota and symmetry. e was as straight as an arrow, wearing the breech-cloth, and naked from his waist up. His swelling, billowy chest, was without a mark of paint or tattoo, and the roll and play of muscles was a “ee of themselves, His right wrist was incased y a band of wampum, while no other ornament was Visible upon any part of his per- son, As he stood, the weight of his body rested open his right leg, the left being slightly bent at the knee, with the foot thrown a few inches in front of the other. From the girdle at his waist, projected the handles of two knives, his left hand resting idly upon one of these, while his right was lifted and resting upon the shelf above and in front of him. These two knives constituted the entire arma- ment he had in his ession at this moment, his tomahawk and rifle doubtless having being left above. He was without any blanket, and without the eg asen top-knot of the red-skin, his long, lack, wiry hair falling in all its luxuriance down his back to his waist, and totally devoid of any sort of ornament. His position was such that his profile was shown to the fullest advantage, and the Roman nose and stern visage would have graced the face of one of the warriors of Anakim. All this, I say, was admirable in a certain sense, but it can not be said that Fitzsimmons was specially affected in that way. He thought that that icular pose was becoming monot- onous, and he would have much more admired o vanishing view of the red-skin, as he ascended e One full minute is a long time to any one in s nse, and it seemed of interminable length to the cowering fugitive, but finally the savage turned about, as if to move away, and the heart of Percy fluttered with his new-born hope. ‘* He’s Sring #8 last.” So he was, but he was ‘“‘ going for the white man” in the corner, who, before he could real- ize what was up, found himself confronted by ihe terriblo beng, who demanded, in a voice of the ffest thunder: ‘* Hoo-wah-hoo—come—ah—wo—me catch— me scalp—” ‘*] surrender,” replied the terrified Fitzsim- mons, never once thinking of his pan or pistol, in the way of defense against his ferocious foe. CHAPTER III. THE ARROW’S MESSAGE. AFTER his separation from Fitzsimmons, old Zip continued his we for a short distance through the woods, the time ascending a very steep incline until he had reached one of the most elevated portions of this precipitous country. Here, on the summit, grew several trees, the tallest of which the hunter instantly climbed, with the agility of a monkey, pausing only when the highest branch bent beneath his weight. From his elevated, tower-like position he gained an extensive view of the surrounding country in every direction. His eagle eye swept the horizon, like the sailor at the mast-head; and, in less than one minute after taking this view, he made the alarming discovery which we have already intimated. Not more than a mile to the westward, he saw a party of Sioux Indians, standing together, on a slightly elevated hill, their appearance and manner Showiver that they were engaged in dis- cussing some subject in which all were deeply interested. Although they had horses, every red-skin, ex- cepting one solitary warrior, was standing on the ground, their docile horses cropping the grass which grew very luxuriantly about them. At that distance it was impossible for the keen-witted hunter to form more than a or cion of what the dismounted Indians were dis- cussing; but the Indian seated upon his horse was the unerring index of their intentions. His brawny arm, as it was raised, was pointed to- ward the large hill, beyond which nestled the home of Hugh Fullerton. It was plain, from the ition of the Sioux and the intervening obstacles, that they could not see the building, although well aware of its location. But the danger was imminent in the extreme, and three minutes’ observation was oy suffi- cient for Old Zip, who slid down the tree as though it had been greased expressly for the oc- casion. ‘* The devils are going for Hugh, that’s sartin and I’ve got to do some tall travelin’ to head bi off.” e necessary ‘‘ tall traveling” was done, the hunter ne Eee the aa and under- wth like a eddeer. Striking the road y the shortest route, he went tearing down it with the of a race-horse. Fortunately, Hugh Fullerton was at the house, with his wife Hannah, who instantly and_hasti- ly collected her silver-ware and most-easily-car- ried valuables together, while her husband, after a few earnest words with the hunter, in- dited the note, which was read in vain by Percy Fitzsimmons, It was decided not to fasten the doors or win- dows, or to make any attempt to baffle the Sioux, as all such labor would be useless, and occasion only the loss of most precious time. The two cows were grazing in the under- owth—excepting the one that had run against he bullet of Fitzsimmons—and the same num- ber of horses were standing in the shade of a tree, at the corner of a field, munching their dinner. Ten minutes from the time the thoroughly- frightened Zip made his appearance in front of the cottage, the three hastily left, Mrs. Fuller- ton bearing a small bundle in one hand, her husband carrying a pack also in one hand, and his remaining rifle in the other. ‘* Percy has my ammunition,” said he, ‘‘ but I reckon you have enough for us both, Zip.” ‘* You bet,” was the significant reply. As every moment was fraught with danger, Zip turned sharply around the corner of the house and plunged into the field of corn, the stalks of which were high enough to afford them concealment, while making their way to the woods lying ney ane Across this they went almost at a run, and reaching the opposite side, were confronted by a small, open space, across which it was neces- sary to pass in order to reach the woods lying beyond. ere they paused, and Zip made a reconnois- sance lasting several minutes. He reported that nothing was to be seen of the Indians, al- Ram o could be no doubt that they were clese a ‘* Follow me,” he said, as he started on a run for the woods, and they obeyed him so well that when he dashed into cover, they were scarcely behind him. This protection reached, something like a feel- ing of security came over the couple, for they knew there were strange caverns and recesses among these hills, known to no human being be- sides Old Zip, and in which they were dent he could place them in secure hiding until the dangse passed. ‘* How thankful I am that Helena is at Alden,” exclaimed the mother, ‘‘ where she cannot be molested by this peril.” ‘Yes, and Zip has sent Ned Hosmer down there to warn her of her danger and to tell her not to come, so that much is insured against.” Exchanging words in this manner, the two walked along at a less rapid pace, until they had advanced a considerable distance along the ravine, to which we have already referred, in our narrative of Percy Fitzsimmons. ‘‘T am anxious about Percy,” said the farmer, addressing the hunter. **'Who’s Percy?” ‘‘ My nephew,” ‘‘Oh—that chap you call Persimmons. You needn’t fret about him, 4 the way he was trampin’ through the woods and over the rocks, I don’t think he’ll ever be able to find the way out again. Howsumever, after we go to roost, [ll rake up the hills for him.” The ‘‘ cabin in the air,” as our reader has 8us- cted, was the residence of Old Zip, although ow and why it was built, and what was the secret of its curious suspension, he refused to reveal to any one, except his wife, who, sharing the structure with him, was equally reticent in all that concerned it. The place had been visited by the Fullertons, so that when they came in sight of it, no wonder was expressed, and only the question asked: “Are you sure Peggy is there? ‘“ Look, and see for yourseit. As he spoke, the leased ta inted u at the nearest window, at which the broad, cheery and bronzed face of @ woman in middle life appeared. It required but a moment for her to identify the approaching party, and then a trap-door in the floor of her cottage was seen rapidly de scending. When it reached the ground it was Gomicdooks a