Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 1036 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

a> 7 & cn ha bre hy oye) Bie oo owns g 4! P, | ly * Tre a ae me, ——_ > : s - — * — ws a not unlike that of burning flesh. Still the cap- the bu No. 7, aes ——— ee ae ee eee en -- - I do not see why darkness is necessary for two | derful boy. He broke into a mocking, defiant | _ shrubless slope of | laugh. ‘** Shoot your geek you red fiends,” he said. “Fill my breast with them. Then they will not score Indians to capture a girl and boy.” | ‘if by waiting for darkness we can save the | life of the warrior, it will be well to do so,” re- | i plied the diplomatic Red Elk. ~ | burn as my hatred of your accursed race does! “Yes, yes, Red Elk, that’s all true; but here, | “Waugh!” exclaimed the young chief. “A boys, let us perform the last sad rites for these | bird in a cage will sing sweet, when its heart is poor devils, by putting them under the ground.” | sad, and the young pale-face talks brave to con- It required but a few moments to inter the | ceal the pain that burns within its breast. Siain pirates in shallow graves, hollowed by ‘ Wild-Wind’s tongue is crooked as the ser- means of knives and their hands; but by the | pent’s trail,” replied our fearless boy. time it was accomplished darkness had gathered | _Wild-Wind, the young chief, sprung toward over the forest. the captive and dealt him a severe blow upon Then these human demons took up their line | the head with the bow he held in his hand. of march toward the home of Ralph St. Leger. | “ Let the pale-face feel but half the weight of |/my arm,” replied the insulted chief, *‘and let CHAPTER XXVIII. him fear me as he would Dwath-Notch, the DEATH-NOTCH IN TROUBLE. young Scalp-Hunter.” AFTER leaving his cabin, Ralph St. Leger | Wild-Wind is a coward, or he would not made a careful circuit of the hut, then moved | strike a prisoner,” replied the youthful captive; out toward the woods. Here he caught sight of | “‘ he is a weak squaw, a sucking wolf.” ; n shadowy figure moving away before him. He Again Wild-Wind dealt him a blow. But this followed it, for, without a doubt, it was a skulk- | was more than human nature—at least, such a ing enemy. It led into the woods, where the | nature as Ralph St. Leger’s—could stan The darkness was so intense that he was not enabled | eyes of the youth flashed with a deadly fire of to follow it otherwise than by sound. But he | resentment. The great veins in his neck stood could hear the footsteps very plain. They were | out like cordage. e face became set with a heavy and massive, unlike that of an Indian | terrible expression. The breast heaved and the warrior, yet it was the footsteps of a prowling | arms twitched as with convulsions. The power enemy. of Titan’ seemed infused into the frame of the Out some fifty yards in the wood, Ralph was | captive. His arms are pressed gradually apart. suddenly startled by a quick step at his right. | His bonds snap in twain, and he stands free be- He halted. At that instant he hears a ‘“‘whirr” | fore hisenemies. But it is only for a moment. over his head, then he feels something encircle | Before a savage could move—with the swiftness his form like the folds of a huge serpent. He | of a dart, he the shafts of the arrows in. feels this band drawn suddenly tight. His | his breast with one hand, and tearing them out, hands are pimioned at his side, He struggles | hurled them, shafts forward, at the nearest sav- but his efforts only tend to tighten the clasp, | age. Then seizing a heavy, half-consumed fire- He is jerked to his knees, then he is thrown | brand, he swung it aloft and swept the as- prostrate upon the earth; he is within the toils | tounded foe down before him. The end of the of a lasso, a captive. A dozen savages close in | club burst into a flame, and as it swept through upon him. He struggJes with the desperation of | the air like a hiss stream of fire, it threw a | | a madman, but the heavy blow of a club strikes | ghastly light over the features of the now mad him half-unconscious. avenger. ; The scene changes. It is still night, and in| The red foes regained their feet and pressed the forest a camp-fire is burning. Its rays, hard upon him. Knives were thrust at his reaching outward and upward, strike upon the | breast, but glanced off as though they had come n foliage of the trees, seeming to transform | in contact with the breast of a brazen image. — hem into gray rock towering aloftand forming | Foremost i es savage combatants is a deep ch whose grim, stony facade was, | Wild-Wind. But the eye of Death-Notch has apparently, dappled with sunlight, yet whose | marked him. He presses toward him; he opening was lost in the darkness above. reaches him; he seizes him ina grasp by the Around this camp-fire half a dozen sav throat that causes his eyes to start and his tongue to protrude. With the. other hand he seizes him by the loin-cloth and raises him above his head, as though he had been a mere child, and with all his strength he dashes him with crushing force into the fire. Then he utters a wild, terrible yell, and with a bound he gains the darkness and freedom of the woods, Bleeding, blinded and burned, Wild-Wind was dragged from the fire, and he at once slunk away oto the forest, while the warriors bound- ed away in the pursuit. But the footsteps of the young pale-face were silent as the wind, and the bafiled savages soon returned to look after their disabled young chief. But they found him not. On the ground where he had fallen lay the savage first brained by the terrible firebrand. His face was turned upward; his head was scalpless. His arm was outstretched and raised slightly from the ground, while the index finger was pointing, in & manner as natural as life, to a Jittle tree upon which was cut a fresh notch! The savages knew at once what it meant. The young Scalp-Hunter had been there! are moving hurriedly to and fro, their grim faces aglow with deinoniac triumph. The cause of their excitement is readily manif Be- fore them stands a white captive, whose hands are bound before him, and the ends of the thongs securely attached to a es ats The captive is Ralph St. Leger. is head is bare; he is stripped of everythin but his trow- sers and hunting-shirt. He is perfectly resigned. There is no look of fear nor dejection in his fine dark eyes. He regards the vengeful spirit of his captors indifferently, and a smile of admira- tion passes over his face when he sees they are preparing for his torture. A number of arrow-points are thrust into the fire, and a strong bow got in readiness for use. Then a savage warrior points to these and tells the captive what they are for, and, by mocks and jeers, endeavors to make him show some signs of fear. But the captive boy heeds not his words. ‘‘The young pale-face is like the young tree against which he stands,” said the savage, grow- ing indignant at his success as a mocker; ‘‘he hears not the voice of the wind. But when the ax is cut intothe bark, it is made to feel. It will wither and dio, T feel.” The s er was @ young warrior about the age of the captive. He was the child of a chief —was brave and daring, and honored for the scalps he had taken. He was small and slender, et agile as the panther, and strong asa young ion. As he concluded his threat, the young chief turned, took up a bow, plucked an arrow —whose point was ablaze—from the fire, and applied it to the bow-string. CHAPTER XXIX. AN AMUSING ADVENTURE, Larrie did Fred Travis dream of the ha that were cog pon him the moment he Jeft the door of the St. Legers’ cabin. But he had scarcely reached the woods when a scream fell upon his ears, It came from the cabin, and he knew the girls must be in trouble, so turning about he ran back to the house. As he neared the door he saw there was no light within, and he heard the excited voices of savages and the _.He then stepped backward, drew the arrow | terrified screams of Vida and Sylveen. almost t? the head, and sent it whirring at the The brave youth made a dash at the door, breast of the captive. The barbed and blazing | but it was blocked with savage forms. He at- point pierced the hunting shirt of the captive, | tempted to cut his way but in vain, who flinched not. The weapon had only pass The foe closed in upon him art! beat hin’ own. in until the barbs were concealed behind the | The next minute he was helpless in bonds, and shirt, yet it must rabid a gh wat the skin, for a | was compelled to witness, with all the agony little jet of smoke ed outward, while the | his heart could suffer, his adored little Vida and shaft of the arrow fobs 2 er downward, still | Sylveon Gray conducted from the cabin and clinging within the shirt by its barbs. hurried away toward the woods. The savages watch the face of the captive for | Then he, too, was compelled to rise, and fol- some ifest sign of pain, buthe never fiinches, | low his captors away, but in a different direc- The features do not relax their firmness of ex- | tion from that taken by the maidens and their pression. . Another ripe ony Wong Land was plucked from the captors. fire and shot into the breast of the captive. Lit- few minutes more and the home of Ralph i and Vida St. Leger was in flames. tle pa smoke curl upward from the bosom of the hun : Fred was conducted due northward by about shirt. It had a pungent odor, | a dozen warriors, who seemed to fear pursuit, ; 1 and traveled quite rapidly. The shadowsof the emperches not, but smiles defiantly in the face | forest did not deter them in the least in their = aarow oft arro shot into his breast; |ferender ite. trlendly Gover thom tan ‘ittle to | w was shot in : | for er ndly cover i until it bristled with the feathered shafts, and | fear. 5 rem ng-shirt was beginning tosmoke and At daybreak, however, he pale-face bpy shall eee even a sav- " : See “0 ’ ms . an ith dian camp, which was not over three hun > < ~ P i> 2 a . —t « * ~~" * : ° = ~ - > ™ r = 7 — — ¢ ‘ t: : : Ve 4 . ~ << “ ‘ _ . ‘ we . - oz a = “the , a ; —. ah. - , = - + ee ge : ; : SA. = a — ee | XS . Glee. Gna f - —_ .. <r a -*- : = — eg ae a ee ee be —* = — : i * ~ - Ae 2 a” ak e a 7 . : s ™ +" -.4-* C Sf out — : 4 me o** 7 es - Ca ee a * a ae i ine - = ifn: < Re tae . = ee , ere Pe aa ds se ae = ‘3 bis ot = = - , - a bs ae te ‘- a Sty h os al SS * c 57% so - ee 4 <t re s* \ | - | *- * eel ‘ ~ ot — ns a ~~ —_ mee - * . .... ~ “ ° =x « ) — => te ae “ “4 eke <4 eed a) \ + ~ * * / ms - _ = as eS ° - = cae - : » —~ <li, ~~ oo we eet ) | | | Pa i, —— PP r a ~~ — . ©. je sfc ——f . ~* 2 — ™~ . : YS ge ee hee “ee. eae Z PIP Death-Notch, the Destroyer. 4 ) they came to a halt to - erisp with heat, ‘There was nge | sook the rest and refreshment that eve | Sys, mysterious—in the fortitude of this weal hee needs at tines. “They stopped in & Little iv wooded valley close to the edge of a treclem, ground that arose gradually several hundred yards, where it again joined the timber. This” beautiful opening faced the south, and was covered with a growth of short Fred was lashed to a tree so that he could aff down, and availing himself of this favor, he leaned bis aching head against the tree-trunk ie was soon absorbed in his agonizing reflec jons. What a fate had been his! Where now were the Avengers? Where was Death-Notch? and, above all others, where was Vida—his darling little Vida? As the savages were entirely dependent on their rifle for food, a warricr was dispatched at once in quest of game. It was their scont, He was a tall, lithe-looking fellow with an eye of steel and powerful muscles. Saeann the hillside opening, he entered the deep woods beyond. He had traversed its shad- ows but a few steps when a low clump of bushes before him suddenly parted, and a white, angu- a face confronted him, and a gruff voice said: ‘* Hold on thar, ye durned red vagabone, ye hold on, I say, or down goes yer meat-house.” Quick as a fiash the savage dropped himself upon the ground, thereby bringing a large fal- len log between him and this unexpected ene- my. Old Shadow, for he the white man was, was in the act of leaping over the log when he dis- covered the muzzle of the Indian’s rifle, and his dark eye gleaming along the barrel, leveled at his breast. Before he could fire, however, the old hunter dropped himself on the opposite side of the log. In this position they lay as silent as thongh they had been shot, each one waiting the movements of the other. It was rather a novel situation for the two deadly foes, and, as it so happened, neither of them possessed other weapon than a rifle and knife. The former they could not use in their present situation, and the latter was of no use oy in a hand-to-Land encounter. tratagem was the only expedient. Either one could have sprung to his feet and fled before the other had time to fire, but, where two such foes meet they never turn—never fiinch before the tomahawk or rifle, even were it certain death te stand. ed by. The Indian lay ES Several minutes as silent as the log, but the white man became restless and impatient, but finally broke off on bis favorite song, ‘ The old hedgehog, ete.” “Ugh!” burst from the savage’s lips when he bad concluded his song. “Ye durned red hog,” retorted the hunter, ‘what ye gruntin’ at round thar? Show yer greasy skin if ye want it punctuated. I’m Old Shader, old p’izen, or old ennything, and Ill} et a picayune that I kin whale a dozeno’ ye. Jest show yerself, red-skin; come, trot out, ole hoss, and show yer dirty self. ' “Waugh!” replied the savage, indignantly, ‘‘Heap much big blow round there. White coward, pale-face dog bariin’.” = ae, sagt hank ye, red-skin,” said Old Shadow, maneuvering about so as to geta shot or thrust at the savage, but wherever he attempted to peep over or around at the cun- ning red-skin, he would see the muzzle of his rifle just coming into view, The old hunter knew that the savage was pos sessed of a patience that would keep him there a week, rather than make eny risky demonstra- tion. On the other hand, the savage was well aware that the white man would soon grow im- atient, and resort to some trick to dislodge im, so he had only to remain on the defensive to insure bimself of speedy action and certain victory. The Sioux had estimated the old hun- ter’s patience and caring rashness by that of ‘the general average of white hunters. In so doing he had underrated the old hunter’s ex- perience. lor some time Old Shadow tried to draw tha savage out, so as to enable him to geta shot. The log was entirely too large for him to reach over and feel for the savage with his knife. Once he elevated his cap on bis rife in hopes of: drawing the foe’s fire, but he raised it balf an inch teo high, and the savage saw the gun-bar- rel under it. “See here, ye cowardly bugger,” ‘he at last exclaimed, ‘ ou don’t leave over tharina iifly Pll squash the eternals outen ye.” ‘*Ugh! all blow—no do,” was the rejoinder. By tapping slightly upon the log, the old scout found it was_ hollow, and so, bracing his feet against e small bush, he applied his shoulder te - ‘hey were now within fair view of the the log, and, with a desperate effort, succeeded in rolling ittoward the Indian. He had hoped by so doing to roll it on the savage, but he Si thelr afeancea wee Lope hie i as the lo vanced, yamne poattien behind the ier . “as 2 The old hunter to roll the logout into the opening that sloped downward to the Indian camp. Here the savage contrived to * ~ } ~-\ ee. w - In- ' # “ Paes ~~ ‘ey os ~~ Dy oe