Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 92 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

ne SS a ee PE > Se 4 wear it to her funeral. Great, illustrious ham-bone thet kicked old Joner in thelarnyx. Yes. A tall gal war old Samanth. Ther old heifer really hed a ; fer me afore I tuk ter destroyin’ Injuns.”’ By this time he had succeeded in prying open the dead savage’s jaws, and inserting one finger, he felt about for the message. Surely enough, his “ feeler”’ came in contact with a lump of ulp, or paper, which he drew out with a chuckle of triumph. It was a piece of ag r, upon which was writing, all wadded up tightly into a little ball. With considerable eagerness the scout unraveled it and spread it out. The moonlight which poured down from overhead afforded him a chance to read it, word for word. It ran as follows: ** To His Chieftaincy, Sitting Bull : ‘** Everything is working as well as you could wish. With my men I have surrounded the old trapper’s cabin, and shall burn him out before morning unless he yields. At any rate, the girl, Milly Owen, shall be in the lodge of the great and noble chief, Sitting Bull, ere another moon rise. ** SaGososkI, Assistant Chief.”’ Such was the main disclosure, with the folloiwng postscript: ‘* Beware of the scout, Old Anaconda, or the Dwarf Destroyer. He is abroad again, upon your trail, with the persistency of a bloodhound,” The old man coughed as he read this notice. ** They purty near hit ther mark, I'll allow,” he muttered. ‘Ef I ain’t ther wust dose o’ paregoric old Sittin’ Bull evyer encountered, when I git an in- terview wi’ him, I don’t want a cent. So thar is dev- iltry afoot, sure enough, eh? They’re after old Jim Owen’s gal, ome ther red coyotes! Wal, now, thar’s bound ter be music directly if we know our- self—me an’ my new gun, Judith. Ef thar ain’t a sick passel o’ red niggers seen in this kentry afore ther Dwarf Destroyer turns in his vote, why I don’t want a nashional or constitoochinal copper.” Riding through the forest went the girl Hazel Eye, or the Forest Lily, as she was called by the Indians. She was a graceful equestrienne in every sense of the word; then, too, her horse was one of excellent mettle, who was accustomed to threading the mazes of the forest at full speed. He seemed by instinct to select the avenues clearest of undergrowth, but many a time a low growing limb would sweep over the saddle. But at such moments the Forest Lily was clinging dextrously to the side of her milk-white be with all the apparent ease of an arenic per- ormer. Indeed, upon the western plains, it is not seldom we see men and women rideas the most daring equestrian performers of the arena would not dare to ride, and all as gracefully too. Hazel Kye was one of these wild riders, and was equally at home in the forest, or upon the prairie. After leaving our young adventurers upon the river, she rode away Ex through the timber, in an easterly direction, taking a regularly beaten trail which she had traversed many times. In the course of an hour, by taking a circuitous route, she came out upon the bank of Beaver Lake, directly opposite the Choppings. Here stood a large log cabin, with several windows up under the eaves, and a heavily ironed oaken door, which was closed. Dismounting, the girl scout slipped the bits from the mouth of Ser horse so that he might graze upon the luxuriant herbage which grew upon the bank. She then approached the cabin door, and gave sev- eral taps upon it with her knuckles. It was presently opened by an old man, with flow- ing beard as white as snow, and hair to match—a pinched-faced, withered man of some five and years, clad in a flowing cloak-like robe of black suc as wight have answered the purpose of a monk. “Is that thee, child? Why didst thou not return sooner?” this individual demanded, as he admitted the girl into a large, dimly lighted room, and took care to close and bar the door again. ‘*Why did I not return sooner?’’ Hazel Eye replied, dropping er a couch of skins, with a sigh. “ Be- cause, gran pe Meteor could not bring me faster." ** Knowest thou the doings of the devil in this sec- tion then?’’ the old man asked, going to a fire that burned upor an elevated hearth, and stirring a pot of boiling substance, which emitted a strange per- fume, ‘‘Ay, I know much more than I care to,” the girl replied, weary: ‘‘The warriors of Sitting Bull are on the war-path against such strangers as venture into this country, while Canada Chet is only second in flerceness and cruel brutality to the chief.” ‘* Know’st thou if oe ef and the Canadian are on terms of treaty?” “No, Ido not know anything aboutit. I should say not, though.” ‘I have been studying hard to-day, in magic,” himself upon a stool, the old man muttered, seatin i abstractedly into the fire. “ ve found many new points. I have worked won- ders out of notnihe and now, let them come !—let them come, I say, and I shall be ready for them. ‘** Fear not, grandpa, for no enemies will ever mo- lest us here in this solitude.” ‘Thou hast not the judgment of my older years, child. I know that they will come—that they are even now upon the way.” “It is only — constant fear of them that drives ou into the belief,” the girl replied, removing her belt of weapons, and surveying erself in a cracked mirror that hung the wall. ‘Surely, you are out of their as who would ever of looking for us here?”’ ‘*The devil could easily find us, and Casper Day- Canada Chet. ton would not be alive if he were not leagued with the devil, curse him.”’ ‘Why should you fear him, then?’’ Hazel Eye said, with a laugh. ‘Every one declares you an imp of His Satanic Majesty.’ e old man chuckled, then remained silent for some time. But he spoke again, at last: ‘* Sitting Bull was here an hour before you ar- v al rived. “Sitting Bull!” the girl echoed, her eyes dilating widely. ‘*‘ What brought him—jere ?”’ “ That on might cont _— He has seen the grandchild of the Man o c, and fallen in love with her. He wishes to add her to the collection of wives already in his wigwam, and offers many hides and horses.”’ ** And what did 1o tell him?’’ the beauty of the wilderness demanded quickly. ‘‘T told him that the Forest Lily was her own guide—that he must present his petition to you, in person.”’ ‘Why did you do this, grandpa? You could have easily spared me the trouble of a meeting with the savage monster, had you chosen.”’ ‘*T did for the best, child. We are two wanderers upon the face of the earth, with no one to look to for protection. Therefore, I would not call upon us the enmity of the great warrior of the Sioux.’ “Then, do I understand you that you would per- — to become one of the slaves of that brutal wolf,”’ ‘‘Nay. I would have nothing of the kind. I would have you stay ever with me. But this chief must have his conqueror, and you shall be his con- queror. But, ask me not the whys and wherefores now, for this brain of mine is full of magic—full o m sot azel Eye made no reply. She was used to the eccentricities of this old magician of the North—used to all his mode of liv- ing, his temper, his studies and his ravings. ometimes many people would have called him crazy, but she knew his wild moments to be due to excessive enthusiasm or despondency. She had lived with him ever since she could remember—alone with him, having no companion- ship except his, his books and her horse. e had educated her in all that was desirable, but taught her to make no friends. She left him, now, sitt over his fire, and went out into the wood at the e of the lake, Night had fallen, and although the moon was ris- ing in the east, it was comparatively dark in the timber and upon the lake. Standing upon the shore, she gazed across the silent sheet of water toward the shoppings, where several lights twinkled dimly. ‘‘T wonder if the young strangers arrived safely over there?” she murmured. “I am afraid danger has befallen them for they are so unused to this life. I wonder what brought them into this wild, unset- tled country?”’ She stood thus pondering over the events of the day, when she was suddenly aroused by a hand oes laid upon her shoulder, and glancing hastily up she saw a painted Indian standing close beside her. gue shuddered, for she recognized him as Sitting CHAPTER IV. SITTING BULL’S THREAT—AMASA SCROGGS. Tat Hazel Eye was startled and alarmed was not strange. Since the Conia the British posses- sions of the noted Indian chief, she had entertained for him a loathing that surpassed her fear for his merciless savage tools. She knew that he was little better than a human monster at heart—a man who, under all his paint and hideousness, had a brain which, for devilish in- vention, had no equal. “The Forest Flower need not be alarmed!’ he said, in a deep, hoarse tone. ‘‘ Why should she fear the great chief of the Sioux “ Ae se ou not fear the great chief?’ Hazel Eye demanded, ee, away & pace. ‘‘Why should not the Forest y fear the chief whose hand has been dipped many times in the blood of her pale-face friends? The murderer of General Custer is no friend of Hazel Eye—never can be!”’ “The pale-face maiden mistakes; Sitting Bull did not kill George Custer, even though Sitting Bull has tallied many conquests. It was one of Sitting Bull’s warriors who killed the blonde general of the pale- faces; but the blame was laid upon me.” ‘*You have a ‘gf pee tongue, chief, but it cannot deceive the of the Forest,”’ Hazel Eye replied, fonction ‘What would Sitting Bull, here, at the home of the Magician of the North—the home of evil spirits and transactions?” strange A proud, disdainful smile lit up the hideous fea- tures of the chief. “Sitting Bull is not superstitious, like his bro- thers,”” he said, grimly; “‘and therefore he has no fear of the Demon of the Wood, or his pretended powers. He come here to take to If an- other squaw to be the queen of his wigwam. There are three there now, but two of them are of Sitting Bull’s nation. He would add the white Forest Lily to his possessions.”’ Hazel Eye stepped back, rig, «gee “The chief may return to wigw he cannot have the Forest Lily. Her han such as Sitting Bull!”’ The chief gave vent to a deep grunt, as if he were surprised, and took a step forward. But he halted immediately, for revolvers in the hands of Hazel Eye were leveled at his naked breast, with its many am, then, for d is not for disfiguring scars and tattooed desi of wild ani- mals, pronunase among them the bead and shoul- ders of a buffalo-bull. ‘** Let not Sitting Bull advance, unless he would court a merited death,” Hazel Eye said, calmly, but sternly. ‘' Let him return to his three wives and his wigwam, and forget the Forest Lily.” ** Sitting Bull will go, for his life is at the mercy of Hazel Eye,"’ the red demon said, a terrible glitter in hiseye. ‘‘But he will not forget nor forgive the Forest Lily, for the bitterness of death is in his heart. Sitting Bullis nofool. His eyes can read tho heart of Hazel Eye as well as they can the cipher rocks. She has seen the young e-faces, and lost her mind. Sitting Bull wills it that they shall die.” And with a scowl on his fierce face, he stalked away into the woods. Hazel Eye watched him with dilated eyes until he peared. Then she:estored her pistols to her belt, and glanced at the cabin. it was very light, and she knew that the old magician was en- gaged in some of his strange experiments. BP Be aiatac ust save the young p es from Sitting Bull’s wrath,” she murmured, glancing across the silent waters of the Jake. ‘I must save them, for he would kill them without mercy, should he get upon their track.” Searching along the bank of the lake, she soon came upon a light skiff rocking idly in the water. Casting off the thong lashings, she sprung in and seized the oars. Another moment, and the boat was skimming along over the water, headed toward the Choppings. To return to the dwarf scout, old Anaconda, whom we left upon the prairie beside the dead savage, Not long did he remain there. Crawling back to the edge of the forest, he paused and listened intent- ly. He was a little uneasy. A strange silence seemed to be brooding over all nature, more than was usual, even at the dead of night. The moon shed down a spectral light—the wind even had lulled, and scarcely a leaf quivered. ‘* Something’s up!’’ the dwarf muttered. ‘I’ve seen too many sech lulls aforé a storm ter not know how ter read ’em. Them ’ar woods ar’ chuck full o’ red-skins as sure’s I’m an anti-Injun lovyer. Ther varmints ar’ abroad in big numbers, a-waitin’ fer sumthin’, But I can’t wait ter bother wi’ many on ’em, fer ef them Owens folks ar’ in sad tribulations it’s high time this old projectile o’ thunder and blazes war about.”’ Un his rifle, he held it in readiness for in- stant use, and then stole silently away into the edge of the wood, keeping the prairie not far to his left, and working along in a southerly direction. Each step was one of stealth, as light as the foot- fall of a cat, and the little peering eyes of the Dwarf Destroyer were watchful on either side. Some- times he would make a wide detour, to escape cross- ing a bar of moonlight that streamed down through an opening in the branches above, In this way he proceeded for a half-hour, or 80, when he suddenly came to a halt, and crouched be- hind a fallen log. Just ahead of him, not more than a dozen yards distant, a tall savage stood in a moonlit spot, in an attitude of listening. He was a noble specimen of the wild red-man, a breech-loading rifle, and a ee’ was armed wit e, The first supposition of Old Anaconda, was that his approach had been discovered, but a moment of listening convinced to the contrary. Afar off in the wdéods came the echo of a loud voice, pegnes at a nigh key, singing that National olden-time song ‘“ Yankee e.”” Whoever the individual was, he was evidently a stranger in the land of the great North, where life ofttimes pays the forfeit of death for penetrating those solitudes. The vocalist wis not pREncnlar, evidently, as to the selections with which he treated his audience, for he y branched off into the Sanh shirring Capt. Jinks’ and the “Girl I left behin me.”’ The red-skin seemed to enjoy the primitive con- cert, for his neck was aa forw in the direc- tion of the sound, and his eyes gleamed wickedly. Old Anaconda, from his covert, watched him, with a grim smile, keeping his rifle, however, in instant ess. “The varmint cackylates, as how he'll hev ther pleasure o’raisin’ thet feller’s cap-sheaf, what be singin’ like a black, double-headed night-in-gale, over yonder. Wonder who in Lord he ar’, anyhow? Sum greenhorn frum out in ther States, rit bet my shirt on’t. Ho! ho! how beauchiful thet warmint thar would skulp him, ef ther Dwarf warn’t around. Jest see his muscles work, as tho’ he war goin’ ter hev a reg’lar Fourth o’ July celebration out o’ ther greeny. But, poor, deluded mortal! I reckon he'll git slipped-up, on thet ar’ cackylation, muchly, Jest fer pie, I'll turn ther tables on him, and appropriate his skulp as he ar’ intendin’ to thet greeny’s. The savage having evidently enjoyed enough of the nocturnal concert, now began to glide forward, arp with stealthy motion, his eyes gleaming wickedly. Rising from behind the log, Old Anaconda glided noiselessly after hi him, Kor some time, ioe moni enne cea, Ana- conda gaining e time, wi easy reach of the skulking red-skin, who was entirely un- conscious of the proximity of the dread Dwarf De- stroyer. Suddenly Old Anaconda raised his rifle, and swung it over his head with a lightning movement, and the heavy barrel dealt the unsuspecting savage a blow GOmilcbooks ’ =