Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 942 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

Sas! Dit os i wee ees oe ee es = © 07 e 2 Hey 4 Buftalo Bill's EU SS a EEE bette couact Tussle. ehh, ‘ VF - PN ls va eat es 25 ~ ”“ se eel a deep to the saddle cinch, but the horses did not mind it, the pony seeming to know the bed of the stream well, for he steered clear of the holes here and there to be found. At last they came near the spot where the lava valley, formed one bank of the creek for nearly half a mile, and Buffalo Bill was anxious to see if the pony would turn out there. He did without hesitation, and made an easy landing, in spite of the flinty na- ture of the bank on that side. Still allowing his reins to hang loose on the saddle horn, Buffalo Bill saw that the pony kept straigh across the rugged valley, straight as the bird flies. He was heading for a distant cliff, some two miles distant. “It would take a small army to sur- round this valley and find where the trail leaves it, if it could be done then,” mut- tered the scout. When the head of the valley was reached there were seen two volcanic mountains, one on either side, and be tween them there led a canyon. Riding into t “anyon the scout saw that the nature of the country was chang- ing, the lava had not flowed in the di- rection he was going, but toward the stream, simply inundating centuries ago the once beautiful valley, and leaving it barren flint. Beyond the two solferino-hued moun- tains the country again was beautiful, with vales and hills covered with sTass and timber, and traced by streams \of purest water. As the scout passed into the narrow canyon he saw a bush move upon the side of the mountain. He knew that no bush grew there in that rock, and without appearing to no- tice it he kept his eye upon it. It was a pine bush, about four feet in height, and very thick with foliage, while it appeared to grow out of the lava, some eighty feet from where the ‘trail ran which he would follow, or rather the di- rection the pony was taking, for there Was no trail. “Yes, that bush hides a man, either Indian or white, and he is there to get a shot at me; but I'll surprise him a little bit. “T don’t wish to kill him until he shows his hand, but I'll see if I cannot make him show it.” As though his saddle cinch needed tight- ening, the scout halted, got off on the Op- posite side to the bush he was sure did ‘not grow where he saw it, and which he felt confident he had seen move, and with- out apparent reason, for there was no wind blowing. The bush was about a hundred and fifty yards from where he had halted, within easy range for his splendid re- peating rifle. Suddenly he threw his rifle over his sad- dle, and, pulling trigger, sent a bullet within a foot of the bush, for he would not fire into it until he was sure what it concealed. There was a sudden swaying of the little pine, it fell over and an Indian sprang to his feet with a yell, and, throwing a rifle to his shoulder, pulled trigger. The bullet was well aimed, for it cut through the rolled blanket fastened to the cantel of the scout’s saddle. valley and waited for me; but bushes don’t grow in lava, and seeing that one there I Was sure it meant trouble. “ He has a pony near, sure, so I'll look him up, and I wust 1 won't find any of his comrades near. “T can’t bury him here, him to where I can.” With this the scout led his horse up to the dead Indian, and with his lariats strupped the body upon his own horse. Mounting oncé more he gave the pony free rein as before, and soon passed into the canyon, which presently opened into a large and fertile valley. Out there was a handsome pony staked out, showing that the young chief had been upon some expedition alone, had seen the scout coming afar off, and so had plotted to kill him. But the experienced eye of the great Plainsman had at once detected the plot by knowing that no bush would grow where that one was. Seeing a spot where the ground was broken by gullies, Buffalo Bill put the body of the Indian in one, threw dirt upon it, and then covered it with rocks to keep the coyotes from digging it up. This done, with the pony of the young chief, he again rode on. Once more the pony of the Boy Hermit took his own way, passed up the valley, and at its head it maneuvered into a canyon, passing between lofty cliffs. Through this the pony passed, and then the scdut discovered for the first time trails centering at the entrance to the canyon. Once through the rocky gateway the canyon widened into quite a valley, ana still further on there was another nar- row pass between overhanging rocks, Here was a barrier of logs, from cliff to cliff, some heavy bars to let down, and a fertile littie vale beyond, where half a dozen ponies were feeding. At the head of the canyon Buffalo Bill saw a stoutly built cabin. The Pinto pony had led the scout to his home—he had found the boy hermit’s abiding place. CHAPTER XVII. AN UNWELCOME VISITOR. The Boy Hermit had watched the flight of Buffalo Bill when he dashed out of the canyon before the half-a- hundred red- skins with deepest interest. In going to the Giff overiooking the valley he had spied down in the canyon the redskin sentinel, prepared to fire on the scout when he should come nearer, but the youth had blocked his Little game by a bullet, thus saying the life of “But- falo Bill. Knowing that, he would not be sus- pected as being upon the cliff, if he was not seen, he waited until he saw the scout well in advance of the pursuing braves, the pony running well, and then he hastily began to retrace his way. He went along at a trot rather than a walk, and kept in a certain d-rection un- so will carry til it brought him out at the fallen tree that spanned the stream, just where the lava valley began. Re. Crossing on the tfee he kept up the same untiring pace across the lava val- ley, passed between the voleanie mount- ains as Buffalo Bill afterward did, and in half an hour more leaped the bars that as he had left it, a a blanket drawn ¢ over it. | Drawing this aside the youth gazed with tear-dimmed eyes upon the stern face of the dead. Whatever he had been to others, what his life might have been, to him he had ever been as true as steel, a kind and loy- ing father, and he was all the youth had ever known whoni he could love, as far as his memory went back clearly, for he recalled but dimly, like a half-forgotten dream, the remembrance of his parents. Cooking something to eat, the youth then took a pick and shovel and went up the canyon to a picturesque spot on the banks of a little brook, and began to dig a grave. Night fell just as E finished it, and, re- turning to the cabin he ate a cold, supper and threw himself down upon his rude | cot to sleep, with no dread of the dead form lying near him. At dawn he was awake, had his break- fast, and then began to tenderly wrap the dead form securely in blankets, fast- ening them with a lariat. He took a last look at the dead face, then foided the blankets over it, and was about to raise it in his arms to bear to the grave, when he heard a neigh from one of his ponies, that always gave such an alarm of danger. Going to the door, rifle in hand, the youth saw a man coming on foot up the little valley. He carried a rifie across his shoulder, was dressed in buckskin, and at a giance the Boy Hermit knew him, for he muttered: “It is Indian Dick!’ . Closing the door behind him, the youth walked to a rock some fifty feet from the cabin and sat down to await the approach of the man. ‘ “ Ho, young pard, how be yer, and how is ther old man?’ called out Indian Dick as he drew near. ‘ ‘ Sh—, Indian Dick, my father is asleep and [ do not wish him disturbed, for he was wounded.” “Yas, that devil, Buffaio Bill, did it, cuss him; but I hopes it wasn’t bad,” “He suffers no pain, now.” ‘Where is he?” “In the eabin.” “Tl see bim.” ‘No’ you won't, i for no one shall dis- ‘turb him; but you say that Buffalo Bill shot h'm,” “Yus, he’s ther Chief o' Scouts over at Belyue, and is gwine ter give us trouble.” “ How do you know?” “*Cause I has been to ther fort.” “ What did you go there for?’ “T got big Money to guide ther colonel over to ther Stage trail and back ag’in,”’ “How do you know that Buffalo Bill shot my father?’ “Waal, as we was on the way back ye’r father shot at ther colonel, but didn't kill him, though it were a close eall. “T saw ther hermit when he ran after ther shot, and Buf‘ler Bill, he threw a lariat up to a tree on ther cliff, clum’ up and got a shot at ye’r father. “Then ther command went on to ther fort, but ther Sioux jumped ’em, my horse Was kilt, and I had ter hide among ther rocks and lay low, and now I’ve come ter — ‘git a pony from you ter go on with.” “You can have the gray; but did the Indians kill the soldiers?” ‘No, durn ’em, they didn’t, and it were because thet Buf’ler Bill are playin’ — is, sharp, for he claimed he didn’t know this” ‘i i r: country. When he did. for arter he- onde 3 Aas f shot ye’r father, he come back ter camp, » He ta found out in some way ther reds wa layin’ fer ‘em in Sunset ee bs guided them by night ar and onter the trail to the ‘or ro while ; vig Ri UPR tae ets ies oe, : ws att i (re eR: “< , yt? Beh , Pe » 4 were the entrance to the little vale in which stood his home. There was his cabin, just as he had left it. the door locked with a padlock out- side. He opened it quietly, hesitated an in- stant before he crossed the threshold, and then entered. — 5 ae. ae: ie form of the dead berimtt But again Buffalo Bill fired, and the In- _ dian dropped dead. ' ‘Walking up to him, but prepared for ‘him should he be “playing possum,” Buf- _ falo Bill saw that he wore the war-bonnet of a young chief, and was dressed in a _ Way that showed he was a redskin. . Somlag: boris the | lava 4 ? , - ¢ ; yes a4 at P 5 <=ft sf ~*~, yr >: ee ei 44> * +39 fa, ye . s ‘ : ooks.com