Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 801 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 —_—— —————— forever hiding within its hungry maw the | hapless creatures that came within its grasp. Yet, perilous as wera its waters, Seal Shel- ton cast on it a glance which indicated that he was more than half-inclined to hurl himself into them! There was ample reason for this, He stood on a high bluff overlooking the stream, Stretcb- ing back from the bluff were slopes heavily covered “ith pines. Beneath these thick-stand- ing trees was a half knee-deep carpet of pine needles, which was as highly inflammable as if saturated with kerosene. This bed of needles reached from the bluff to the furthest limits of the pines on the ascending slopes. Worst of all, this bed of needles was on fire ! How or when the fire had started Shelton could not tell. He had chosen that poiot for his night’s rest because of the soft couch af- forded by the needles, When he awoke, there was the smell of smoke in his nostrils, and the advancing flames were threatening his life, There was no apparent way of escape, The bluff whereon he stood was completely ringed in by tlre precipice and the on-coming fire, It was a sheer leap of a hundred feet from the bluff to the stream below. He knew the water was deep at that point; but it was swift, and he’ could not tell what jagged, sword-like rocks might lie bidden in its swirling depths. Were he even sure no rocks were concealed there, the leap would seem the height of mad- ness. The current boiled against granite on the side of the precipice, Tho opposite shore was low and grassy; but, as ths river was of con- siderable width and the pull of the current strong, the chances of reaching that shore were not promising, In the direction of the fire there was no chance whatever. The high-leaping flames were licking the tops of the low pines, and many of the trees were already enveloped and furiously burning. The indications were that the slopes would be denuded of their growth of evergreens and left a blackened waste. One who has not witnessed a forest fire can scarcely realize the terrific and splendid foree of such a conflagration, lts advance is overwhelm- ing and irresistible, Neither man nor beast can stand before it for an instant, The heat crisps, crackles, sears and devours. As a de- vastating demon there is Boning like it, Other agencies may destroy, but this destroys with an awful fury. Little wonder, therefore, that Seal Shelton gazed at the advancing fire with blanched cheeks and starting eyes. It formed avast semicircle of death, othing less than the sacrifice of his life could result from any attempt to penetrate it, It was creeping downward with a slow deliberation that was in marked contrast to its hissing and menacing roar. The only alternative was the river; yet to leap into that was seemingly as suicidal as to hurl himself into the fire, To turn either way was fatal, and there was no safety where he stood. Beneath him the pine needles were banked high. It was for that reason—for the soft bed which they afforded—he had sought the place for his night’s rest, In a little while the flames would seethe over and through these, and no point of refuge would remain for him, In a thoroughly desperate mood, Seal drew out and cocked his revolver. To die by fire was a thought too borrible to contemplate, To leap into the raging river and be hurled to death against the granite points was only a degrees less fearful, If die he must, he preferred to end his career with a bullet, It was swift and sure, A shock that should reach to every fiber of his being—a swift blackness that was not of earth —then the silence of nothingness, Yes, if he must die, he infinitely preferred that. And yet, be did not wish to die; and, as bis hauds clutched the cold steel, and he heard the ominous click of the weapon, his whole soul recoiled, He was young, and he had much to live for. To a man of twenty-four the world has much to offer. The future has a rosy morning glow that is entrancing, Shelton glanced longingly down the face of rock, vainly hoping for a way of escape. A few yards above where he scood the tongue of rock stretched further out over the river; and be- neath if the water appeared to be calmer, But, only madness would tempt any one to take the leap from that projection, hirty feet below the rocky tongue there was a granite point; and from it a rough and almost impassable way led downward to the water’s edge. As.a last resort, he could spring to that EE LL sss sss sess ses Kent Kirby, the High-Kicker from Killbuck. ———— He was in no haste, though, to attempt it, The granite was thickly studded ywith keen- edged, rock bayonets, and the chance of escap- ing impalement was not promising. He knew be could not avoid serious and probably fatal injuries, Broken limbs were the least he could hope for. Instant death was more likely to be the result. Yet that was the only possible avenue by which he could leave the fire-girdled bloff, Still holding the cocked revolver in hand, be turned onee more aud surveyed the fire., The smoke and heat were becoming intolerable. The threatening semicircle had very per- ceptibly narrowed. He felt sure he could not remain where he was another ten minutes, His eyes and face burned under the blistering heat, and the hot odors made him gasp for breath, Their pungency choked and stifled him, He turned his tortured face upward and breathed a prayer. It was almost involuntary. He.did not expectananswer. Apparently, only a miracle could save him; and he could not bope that a miracle would be worked in bis behalf, However, as he stood there, a voice reached him; a voice that was spirit-like and faint, as it came to him through the roar of the fire. But, be knew it was not the voiceof aspirit, It was even sweeter, He had heard it before, and, as it penetrated to him, he turned about and gave a mighty bound toward the perilous edge of the bluff, He beheld a vision that was even more sug- gestive of angelic influence than the voice, The slight, agile form of a woman was clambering up the giddy path that led from the river to the granite point thirty feet or more below bim, She carried a rope in one hand, and with the other dragged herself up by means of the pro- jactions. A cry fell from his lips, as his gaze lighted on her. He knew her well, Ay, too well for his peace of mind! The woman fighting her way furiously up the difficult slope was the daughtervf a ranchman who lived not far distant, and whose guest Seal Shelton had been only the previous day. That visit to the ranch-house had not been the first, however. He had made others—for rea- sons to be hereafter recorded, and because of the witchery which lay in the eyes of Marian Car- low, the ranchman’s daughter, He had a very bigh opinion of Jim Carlow, the ranchman; but bis opinion of Marian Car- low mounted very high indeed. And now, she had appeared as if in answer to his prayer, and was calling encouragingly to him and assuring him she would be able to save him, Seal ran as far out on the rock as he dared, and called back to her. ‘‘ Don’t try to jump!” she shouted. ‘* You'll kill yourself if you do! Ij] be there!” Her tones were thick and keayy, because of the smoke and her great exertions, The young man had thrust the pistol back into place, ashamed to let her see it, He was ashamed, now, of the cowardice which had brought the suggestion of self-murder, It had been a horrible contemplatjon; a thing he would rever confess to this regal woman, “ Allright!” he sung out. “Dll be as patient asalamb! But, the faster b's hurry, the bet- ter I'll feel, for it’s getting hotter than an iron furnace up here,” Marian Carlow climbed with the sure-footed- ness of a goat, and in a comparatively short time, stood on the point below and looked up into Seal Shelton’s face. He had thrown himself prostrate on the cliff, as this brought him nearer her and served in a measure to shelter him from the heat. Such an intense look of love and admiration as shone in his eyes when they met hers! He bad never dared breathe to her of the passion that tormented him; but now he felt that he would like to shout it to her in tones of thunder. Her face was almost as red as his own scorch- ed visage, but he thought notof that. He ador- ingly saw only the graceful attitude and gesture, and the luminous look of the eyes, as she threw rane tangled coil of rope and poised herself to burl it. ** Look out, now!” she cried, catch the rope when I throw it!” He shouted back an obedient and joyful pro- mise, The next instant the rope left her trained hand and hissed upward toward him, It wasa long cast, one to tax even theskill ofa cowboy; but Marian Carlow was quite as much of an adept in the use of the lasso as was any ‘** cow-puncher ” who ever wore jinglivg spurs and rode her father’s bronchos, —— ** Be sure you ‘ Just wait a minute, and’ The uncoiling rope struck the roek within a foot of Seal’s extended jhand, and by a reckless and almost herculean effort he succeeded in grasping it, ‘* Now fasten it there somewhere!” she panted, ‘‘Then, you can let yourself down to this point without much trouble!” Seal was only too glad to comply. He secured the end of the lariat to the body of asmall pine that stood near him, and then swung himself over the precipice’s edge, This was new work for him, and in spite of his great desire to escape from the fire, he trembled a jittle as he felt the slight rope give and sway under Lis weight. It was not an easy task to lower bimself by means of the lariat—for such a feat needs great strength and practice. But, he accomplished it—just how, he could not have told!—and stood trembling and exhausted at Marian Carlow’s side, ‘* That was dreadful!” she whispered, looking up at the fire-threatened point. ‘‘I came as fast as I could, and I didn’t get here a minute too soon,” He almost fancied there were tears in her eyes, and that moment he would have bartered everything be hoped for in tbis world for the privilege of pressing her lovingly to bim and repaying ber for what she had done with a kiss, Instead of doing this, however, be stummered his thanks ina confused and incoherent way; despising himself the while for his inability to find words with which to appropriately express himself, ‘* Come; we mustn’t stay here!” and she turn- ed to descend the path, ‘‘It’s getting as hot here as it must be on the cliff. Weshall be cooked in a Jittle while,” He had momentarily forgotten the burning heat; but now, recalled to it, it seemed to again scorch to his marrow, . ‘* Permit me to help you down!” he plead<d, extending a hand, But, she bad hurried on, clambering down the rocky incline with an ease which showed she had no need of bis assistance, The heat was considerably abated when they reached the water’s edge; aud as they pags- ed around a curve, he saw, in a little bend be- yond, a horse quietly cropping the grass. Its sides were still wet, showing that it bad not been long out of the river. ‘¢' You swam your pony across?” “Certainly! How else could I have got here? If [had lost time by going to the bridge, the chances are you would have been broiled like a lizard before I could get to you.” ‘* That’s true!” he said, and again his eyes look- ed the words of love he dared not speak, ‘* You risked drowning to save me from the fire! Marian, I can vever repay you for that, much as I may try!” ‘** Don’t try then!” she said, with an abruptness that hurt him; and without waiting to listen to his expostulations, she walked on and began call- ing to the pony. CHAPTER II. THE HIGH-KICKER’S SCRAP” WITH a GRIZZLY. “WHOA! January!” The appealing exclamation was greeted with uproarivus guffaws, ; A sbaggy-bearded, keen-eyed, but awkward- looking cowboy was seated on a restive broncho, that just then was doing its utmost to pitch its rider over its head, ‘‘ Whoa, Isay! Drat a beast that’s everlast- in’ly tryin’ to walk on his nose! He seems to think that bis years is his front legs an’ his front legs is his hind ones, and he’s a-tryin’ to git all four onto the ground atonc’t. If I’m ever to git a chance to tackle the ‘‘General,” you fellers’ll have to hook a steer to this critter's tail to hold him down!” Again uprose that rough merriment, the as- sembled cowboys vying with each other in try- ing to crack with their yells the dome of the sky. It was truly a ludicrous scene, Kent Kirty, the wide-mouthed cowboy, who was grip:pin the broncho with his knees, would bave provoke levity, even had the occasion been a serious one, He wasa man past middle age, but wiry and sinewy. It was the twinkle in bis grayish eyes, the humor in the lines about his lips, and the reckless playfulness of his general make up that i H have attracted attention, however, before all else, He had reached the ranch ony that morning, having walked out from Piebald, over the dozen miles of dusty trail that lay between it and Car- low’s ranch on Rogue River. 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