Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 92 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

R | Canada Chet. eee but he was disappointed. Not a sound nor a sight, except the white spiral columns of smoke, answered his patient watch. At last he glanced around him as if intuition had warned him of the near presence of somebody or something. His glance brought forth an ejaculation, for not three yards away was an Indian girl, half- reclining upon a mound at the foot of a tree, en- caged in working beads upon the moccasin she held in one hand, She was the most beautiful creature, thought the — that he had ever seen, excepting none, white or red, Her complexion was of an olive tinge, the features being as purely chiseled as if formed by the hand of en olden-time sculptor, and the head admirably poised upon a graceful neck, which sloped down to 2 noble bust, and into the continuation of a form ‘hat was little less than perfection. Such a graceful, sylph-like the dwarfed scout had never seen before, and he regarded her in admiration, she evidently all unconscious of his pre- cance. Her hair of a nut-brown hue fell to her vvaist in a cloud; the eyes and mouth were of sweet expression—the former in color like the hair, and fairly scintillant in their power. She was clad in a tasty beaded skirt, and waist partly open at the throat revealing the beautiful neck. The skirt was met below the knees by fancifully wrought leg- clings and moccasins. No covering whatever was on the head, except a sort of coronet of feathers of raany shades of the rainbow. If standing she would have been about the medi- um hight of women, and as Old Anaconda thought, over and over again, the most beautiful embodiment of the opposite sex he had ever conceived. Resolved upon having a word with her, he ad- vanced a few paces until she looked up with a star- ‘led exclamation, when he doffed his hat and bowed low. She arose to her feet and retreated a few paces \yhere she paused, a scared, uncertain look in her wild, pretty eyes. And now more than before, was the sylph-like and craceful proportions of her superb form revealed. “Why the Indian maiden abroad so early in the forest?’ Old Anaconda respectfully inquired, speak- jag in the English tongue, for he was aware that not a few of the latter-day Sioux could speak that tongue. The girl started and trembled, as if confused at the presence of astranger, then spoke: “Wild Bird comes into the woodland that she may listen to the songs of her sister birds, and where she ean be alone and unmolested.” “Then ye don’t like it down there in ther camp 0’ Sitting Bull, eh?” the Dwarf Destroyer asked, ap- proaching closer, and throwing himself on the leaves at her feet, as she resumed her seat upon the mound. ‘““The heart of Wild Bird was never with the Sioux nation,’ was the reply, as her Sag eyes gazed off over the p e, dreamily. ‘She was once of the powerful Pawnee tribe, but Sitting Bull has slain the \ast of her people, and brought the Wild Bird to his wigwam. Sitting Bull has many squaws in his lodge, has he not?’ the scout asked. “Sitting Bull has many wives, but Wild Bird is not his wife, nor are the two white maidens. Wild Bird is the Princess of the Sioux, and Sitting Bull respects her and allows her freedom, which he does not ex- tend to the two pale-face maidens. They wait upon him, and do his bidding.” ‘‘And Wild Bird loves the Sioux chief, and will goon become the Queen instead of the Princess of his tribe?” the scout interrogated. A startled look came into the Wild Bird’s eyes at the suggestion. ‘‘No; the Sitting Bull has no charms to attract the eye of the Wild Bird. He is a great warrior, but Wild Bird does not yearn to become the squaw of one of her own race. She has better hopes for her- self. The pale-face does not abuse his wife like the Indian, and is much kinder to her.” “Ww I'll be cigemetag ak ey inter a bar’l o’ tan- clefoot ef thar ain’t some truth in that, my gal! An’ { reckon there’s many a pilgrim as would grab at the chance to get sech a beauty as you fer a wife, ter love and take keer ov her!”’ The eyes of the Indian girl brightened, visibly. ‘* Does the great hunter speak his true thoughts, or is he trying to blind the eyes of Wild Bird with geet 2 she asked, bending forward, almost er- ly. ‘“ Wild Bird would be as happy as the sun ght were she the wife of a kind white man. Her heart rebels against warfare, and she loves peace and the life of the pale-face hunter.”’ “Waal, neow, leetle gal, you’re a clipper, an’ no mistake! an’ ef ther ol Destroyer warn't quite so old, he’d be e’na’most of a notion ter pop rig t heer to one’t, despite ther fact thet he’s on ther trail o’ vengeance. Did the Wild Bird ever heer o’ ther white terror, Old Anaconda, the Dwarf Destroyer?” The maiden’s eyes dilated widely, as she replied: “Wild Bird has heard of the intrepid Indian fighter who is the great foe of the Sioux, and she has longed m ’ see mihi I’m them same, you bet, leetle gal! ther old hoss elf.”” » “Wild Bird is glad, for she has yearned to hear the cause of his hatred for the Sioux,” and, with childish innocence, the Princess put out her hand. The dwarf scout took it gently, and pressed it, af- ter which he let it go, as if afraid to hold in his rough palms a hand so warm and soft. : we ye shall heer the os Wild Bird,’’ he said, moodily down into the sunlit plain be- low them, his brows shaded by a cloud; “ ye shall hear all about it, an’ then mebbe ye’ll allow I’ve hed sum reason fer liftin’ so much ha’r. ‘*Ye see, me an’ mine were ther fust, or among ther fust, ter enter ther Black Hills nis 5+ revious ter ther breakin’ out o’ ther gold-fever. I my lee- tle cabin along one o’ ther tributaries ter ther e- bud, an’ I trapped an’ hunted, Rot a good livin’, an’ wer happy wi’ my wife an’ child. Ye see I nevyer war no beauty, an’ when I an’ my ay sce hitch- ed, I calculate she didn’t marry me fer beauty, but because she liked me. Leasthow, she war a leetle angel of a wife, an’ we allus got along as nice an’ happy as ther day war long. Then, arter awhile our leetle Fanny came, the pretty sunny-haired leetle beauty, an’ we counted ourselves supremely blessed. 72 tee many streams, and collected many beautifulfurs. We war in the third yeer o’ our pros- perity in our new home, an’ hedn’t nevyer hed no trouble wi’ ther red-skins, when, suddenly one day Sitting Bull came to my cabin, durin my absence, and murdered, and mutilated almost beyond recog- nition, my poor wife and sunny-haired baby. I re- turned home to find my cabin-home burned, and the ee bodies o’ my wife an’ child lying close at hand. And thar, over their bodies, Il swore to have a Sioux scalp for every drop of the precious blood shed from their veins! knows I have striven to make good my promise. And as he finished speaking, the scout gazed at Wild Bird—tears in his eyes. There were sympathetic tears in her starry eyes, for the ee narration had been told with a peculiar touching pathos, that stirred up the softer passions of her wild, untutored nature. ‘Wild Bird’s heart aches for the noble pale-face scout,” she said, earnestly, ‘‘ and her anger is strong against the Sioux. Sitting Bull is no warrior if he has murdered a weak and ees babe, Wild Bird despises him, She would die sooner than to be- come his queen, now. Her heart is with the white Destroyer.”’ ‘‘ Waal, leetle gal, I thank you, and Ir you an’ I can get on as friends, anyhow. Would the Wild Bird leave the village of the Sioux?” ‘‘ Where would Wild Bird go? She has no home— she could but wander in the forest, where her sisters of the air have their coverts.”’ “But if some pale-face would offer to marry the Wild Bird, and take her to dwell with him in his cab- in, would the Wild Bird go, even though the pale- face be dwarfed and not so handsome as many of his brothers?” An eager light shone from the beautiful maiden’s eyes, and arising she advanced and knelt before the scout, and ki him upon the forehead, “Wild Bird says yes,” she said, earnestly, her bosom heaving, and an overjoyed expression upon her pretty, dusky face. ‘‘ She hears the words of the pale-face, and accepts with a glad heart. Wild Bird’s whole life-hope and dream is realized, if the pale- face brave will take her to his cabin,” “That settles it, then,” old Anaconda said, draw- ing her to him, and kissing her cherry lips. “TI feel thet the Lord put ye in my path ter make up fer my lost ones.” The beautiful Indian girl gently withdrew herself from his embrace and arose to her feet. ‘Wild Bird’s pale-face lover must not think to de- ceive or betray the Indian maiden,” she said. “He has kissed her, and must not touch her again until she is his by right of marriage.”’ “Allright, Birdie; an’ thet sha’n’t be put off long, you bet! My trail of vengeance ar’ purty nigh at an end, an’ then we'll go back across the line and set- tle down. Now, will the Wild Bird help me to rescue the white maidens from Sitting Bull’s power?” The Indian girl started, as if stung by a pang of jealousy. ‘Why would the White Destroyer seek the pale- face maidens!’ she demanded, quickly. “Old Anaconda would rescue them from captiv- ity and send them back to their homes, because the are of his blood and color, But, let not Wild Bird, the Beautiful, fear. Theold man ‘llstick to her, you bet! Not so very old, nuther—only, eight-an’-thirty, tho’ I’ve suffered pain enough fer fifty. Waal, waal, what's your ans’er, little pet?”’ “Wild. Bird will help the White Destroyer in his lans; she loves him, and will fight for him!” was he earnest reply. ” CHAPTER IX. IN SITTING BULL’S VILLAGE—TOO LATE, Wr Brrp consented to return to the e, and repare the way for the Dwarf Destroyer. The beautiful creature seemed wholly wren up in her warm affection for the scout. It had ever been her brightest hope that she might become the wife of a pale-face, and she was now happy in the thought t her dreams were soon to become a reality. = But, hold up» Birdie,’ the Destroyer said, as she was about to take her departure; ‘‘ there are a few questions I have neglected to ask you,” ‘‘ The Wild Bird listens,”’ “Then, who are the pale-face captives Sitting Bull has in his wigwam.”’ “Both are young squaws.” * But their names—what are they?” “ They call each other Milly and Rachel.” ‘ ba The girl Milly sunny hair, has she not?’’ ‘“* Yes—hair like the summer sky.”’ _* How long ago was she brought to the lodge of Sitting Bull? “Only last evening, from the trapper’s cabin.’” ‘‘ And her parents were not brought with her?’ ‘No; they were massacred by the warriors of Sitting Bull.” Old Anaconda shuddered. He knew the Owens well, and a feeling of horror crept over him as he pictured in his mind the trapper and his wife lying either roasting in the fire of their burning cabin, or i a death from a blow of the murderous toma- wk. But, even as the picture was before his eyes, he swore a silent oath to continue his deadly work against the Sioux, until not one of the murderous race remained to follow the war-trail. * Wild Bird must go, now,” the beautiful maiden, said, ‘‘ or Sitting Bull will return and discover her absence, and be very angry.” ““So ther old cuss is out in the woods, eh?’’ the scout demanded, excitedly. _“ Sitting Bull is abroad with many of his war- riors,”’ Wild Bird EP) lied. ys at ‘* How many are there yet, é village, then?” ‘Three braves and twenty squaws, not counting the POPP OCR: « ‘Very well. EfIken’t t away wi’ thet numbe I'll sell out cheap. But, y ild Bird, are there any horses in the village?” The Indian girl smiled. “Wild Bird four of her own, as fleet of foot as any upon the prairies,”’ she said, proudly. “The e-face lover of Wild Bird is welcome to them all.” “All right, my jewel; we shall have need for them soon. Iam g° to rescue the white gals, and bear them away from the village. Wild Bird must go along.”’ Where her face had fallen at the first words of his declaration, it now brightened gladly, and her deep, liquid eyes eered like diamonds in the sunlight. Wild Bird is glad. Her heart beats faster at the Sk pes of going with her e-face lover. She will have the horses ready, and leave the gates ajar, so that the brave scout may enter the e,”” ae a her hang at ie dwarf, the dusky beauty w grace away down out of of the forest toward the Indian the edge e. Old Anaconda gazed after her until she had dis- ap within the gates. Then turned back further into the forest, and made a careful examin- anon of his weapons, to see that they were in con- on, He then crept forward again to the edge of the timber, and throwing himself upon the leaves, dozed away the time in the sunlight. For he was in no particular hurry to make his venture in the Sioux village, during the broad light of day. He waited day long in the edge of the forest without the least visible impatience. Indeed he had many a time lain in wait the better share of twenty- four hours in order to entrap a savage. Duri the day several delegations of savages numbering from ten to twenty in each, approache and entered the village, {but Sitting Bull was not among them, Anaconda noted this fact, with contracting brows. ‘* More deviltry brewing, somewhere, I'll bet,"’ he muttered. ‘‘ Et don’t matterso much, now, fer thar war none o’ ther settlers hyarabouts as war wuth sculpin’, ‘cept Tom Owens. Poor feller, et war a shame about him, Them ‘ar settlers at Quinnebog ar’ nothin’ but pirates anyhow, o’ which thet Can- ada Chet ar’ a fair sample.”’ At last the sun set, and the shadows grew thick in the prairie, below the wood line. . The ay had clouded over and there would be no moon, which made it all the more satisfactory to the scout, as he could work with less fear of detection. The camp-fire light from the village reflected against the heavens with wonderful distinctness, and the noise that floated up on the evening breeze from there bespoke the fact that the Indians were wide awake over some discovery. The secout’s curiosity was aroused, but he made no venture toward the spot, for he knew that to betray his presence in the nei ‘hborhood would only be the means of stimulating the watchfulness of the camp. He therefore lay quietly in the edge of the timber, and waited until he should find the camp silent en- ous for his Parag uring this delay he heard a footstep in his rear, and turned to behold one whom he least expected— Hazel Eye. She came forward, carrying her hand- soe ein her hand, and nodded as the scout sa- uted. “Great Lamentations! is that you, Forest Lil? I didn’t enh to see ye way up heer,” the dwarf scout said, as he arose and shook her hand. *‘ How’s things in Quinnebog, anyhow?”’ “Bad,” Hazel Eye said, shaking her head. “Can- ada Chet has taken two more prisoners, and put them in the pen.” Anaconda scowled. ‘““Thet Canadian hez about run ther length o’ his rope,” he muttered. ‘Who are these chaps as has got shut up in the pen?” , “Two young ag von tairere, WO med into this see- tion for the ose of hunting and t ing. names are Hal Day ton and Dave Laam” sie pi ‘Well, we'll have to see to their cases d’rectly. At ree however, I have another case on the ocket.”’ ‘* You are not going to make an attempt r the Indian village?”’ SY, eee “Tam thet same, you bet! Thar’s two gals thar —old Owens’s gal, Milly, an’ another ’un, called Rachel. I’m goin’ ter resky ’em.” *“*Rachel!”’ do you mean—Rache Connors?’ Ken’t say as ter thet. Wild Bird didn’t give no other name than Rachel, I reckon.” ., Wild Bird? When did you see her?” ‘This morning. Do you know her?” “Yes; I have often met her in the woodland. She is a beautiful young woman, Anaconda, and as good as she is beautiful.”’ “Them’s just my ideas. An’ when she becomes Mrs. Anaconda, gal, I shall expect thet ye will come an’ see us, in our new home.” Eomichook azel Eve gasped, excitedly. “Whom — ; La le om