Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 1036 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

% yt —s oe + - 7 a * ‘ = f > We --p. Py oe we sue ee ae we = de> we: « a ee ee i ~*? a a ee” _ No. 7, Out upon the river they saw a canoe comin down from the settlemens. In it were seate two men, one of whom was Sylveen Gray’s uncle and guardian, Abel Hatch, and the other Scott Shirely. Sylveen started violentiy at sight of them, and turning to her lover, said: ‘*]T will have to leave you, dear Ralph. You mow uncle Abel does not like you, and this meeting I desire to remain unknown to him.” “Yes, go, dear Sylveen. In two days I will be here at noon again. Good-by.” He stooped and kissed her, then turned and glided away into the deep shadows of the wood, while Sylveen entered her canoe, and started on her return to the village. For several minutes Ralph St. Leger pursued his way onward through the woods, keeping within the deepest shadows. Fimally he came to o little thicket of undergrowth, in the center of which stood a low, scrubby oak. Pausing, he gazed carefully around him, then parting the shrubbery he entered the thicket, und was lost from view. -A few moments later, a powerful Indian warrior, with tomahawk in hand, crept from un adjacent clump of bushes, and half crouch- ing, stole into the thicket directly on the trail of St. Leger. There was death in the basilisk eyes of the savage, and, as the moments wore on, a low, half-suppressed wail suddenly issued from the depths of the thicket. Then followed an ominous silence, which was finally brokén by the sound of tocteous retreating from the undergrowth. And still,a few minutes later, another figure emerged from the woods beyond, paused and gazed with starting eyes upon the thicket. It was the figure of an Indian, but tis face wore no paint, nor evil, cunning ex- pression. It was Omaha, the scout and guide x the Young Avengers! For several moments he stood and gazed upon and over the thicket; then he placed his fingers 0 his lips, and produced a succession of peculiar sounds, and forth from the woods issued seven ‘orms. They were those of our friends, the Young Avengers. , ‘What discovery, Omaha?’ Travis. “A white youth entered the thicket. A powerful Sioux warrior followed him, A death- wail; retreating footsteps, and then silence. Death is in yon bushes. Come.” The Friendly led the way into the thicket, followed by bis white companions. Under the drooping boughs of the oak they ‘vwiame to a halt. ‘‘ There!” exclaimed the Friendly. All eyes were at once turned in the direction indicated, and saw, lying upon the earth among the deepest shadows, the lifeless form of a Sioux warrior. He was scalpless. Across the left cheek was a deep wound, from which the blood was still pouring in a hot current. ‘‘ Death-Notch has been here,” said Omaha, and he pointed to a fresh notch cut on a low bough directly over the fallen warrior. CHAPTER UL THE DESERTED HUT. Ir was sunset. Ominous clonds were piled up ainst the western sky like the dark line of a jant mountain. Electric flashes shot along ne craggy edges of the somber clouds, followe: ky the dul, sullen rumble of thunder. The wind was rising and raving in fitful gusts through the forest, shrieking like a demon over the hilis and through the valleys. A fearful storm was brewing, yet on through tae dark aisles of the forest pressed the little band of Avengers, guided by the indomitable Omaha. The bellowing thunder, the vivid lightning, the howling wind and roaring trees, to them was but the spirit of adventure. As they continued on, however, the darkness be- tame so intense that their red guide was com- led to resort to the moss on the trees in order keep his course. “This is getting to be tedious traveling, Omaha,” said Fred Travis. ‘* How far is it to the deserted cabin of which you spoke?” *‘ Not far,” was the laconic reply. The parity pressed on in silence for nearly an hour after nightfall, when they came to the edge of a little glade. In the center of this ning, a prolonged flash of lightning showed em a log cabin, standing solitary and alone. It was almost hidden from view by tall, rank weeds that grew to the very threshold, and which was evidence of itself that the building had not been inhabited by any one for years save by bats and owls. Wild ivy clambered over the outer walls and over the roof, exclud- ing the sunshine, thereby making it damp and moldy within. It was a desolated, deserted ruin, whose history was unknown to our party. Only Omaha knew, before that night, that such a cabin existed. In his wanderings abroad from the sottlement, over two years before, he had run across it. Omaha led the way across the yard to the cabin in the great wilderness. The door stood ajar, and was swaying to and fro on its heavy that creaked and groaned i: an eminous ostlike manner. asked young 7 ae le as pert _——— tc CC LLL LLL LL LLL LL LC LL LL eee Death-Notch, the Destroyer. 3 the place to see that no enemy had preceded them to the inviting shelter, Omaha entered the cabin, followed by his friends. Their footsteps sounded dead on the damp puncheon floor, and their voices echoed hollow and sepulchral through the room. By means in their possession a fire was hastily struck, Its light revealed a yawning fire-place in one end of the building, and in a very few minutes a roaring fire was burning upon the hearth, its cheerful heat dispelling much of the gloom from the place. The Young Avengers were now enabled to obtain a fair view of the interior of their re- treat. The cabin was of goodly dimensions, strongly built of heavy logs. There was a loft in it made of heavy slabs or puncheons, as was also the floor. The building was divided into two compartments by straight-edged slabs set upright across the center of the house. There Was an opening in the center of this partition that was used as a door, but was unclosed. There was a rude table and some rickety stools in the room, and around the walls were numerous gun-racks, which gave evidence of the place having once been the house of a party of hunters, The outer door was closed and securely bolted. Then the little party gathered around the great stone hearth, to eat their supper and talk over their morrow’s work, At length the whole party relaxed into silence and listened to the howling storm without. It was truly appalling. Only the Omaha was on the alert. In the heavy, ponderous door there was a wicket which opened and closed with a strong slide set in grooves. This the young Indian used as a look-out, and there was scarcely an interval of ten minutes but a careful survey was méde of the yard in front of the cabin, the broad glare of the lightning enabling him to command a fair view of the glade. The moments wore on, and finally every voice within the cabin became silent. This lasted several minutes, when all of a sudden Omaha sprung to his feet and advancing to the door, opened the wicket and gazed out. The Young Avengers were startled by this sudden movement. They knew that Omaha’s sense of hearing was never at fault, and from his actions they believed he had detected the presence of something not altogether right. For a moment the Friendly stood with his face pressed close to the wicket, then he with- drew, closed the opening, and turning, walked slowly and calmly back to the fire. ‘I have something to tell you, friends,” he said. ‘* What is it? Has the storm blown over?’ ‘No; Death-Notch, the Young Scalp-Hunter, is at the door!” CHAPTER IV. STARTLING INFORMATION, AFTER her interview with Ralph St. Leger, Sylveen Gray entered her canoe and started on her return to the village, She was at once discovered by her uncle, Abel Hatch and Scott Shirely, wht were com- ing down the river, and who at once headed their canoe area toward her. In a few mo- ments they were alongside of her canoe. Abel Hatch was a stern-looking man of some fifty years of age, with features and eyes that were not altogether pleasant in their expression. Fis companion, Scott Shirely, was a young man of some five-and-twenty, tall and handsome and possessed of a form and air that reminded one of a young and dashing cavalier of the Mid- dle Ages. His eyes were coal-black, as were also his long wavy hair and heavy mustache. He was dress- ed ina kind of flashy uniform, cav boots and a broad-brimmed hat from which a red plume hung down over his shoulder. He was ky occupation, representing, as agent, the Hudson Bay Fur sg . He made his head-quarters at Stony Cliff. Hines he had been engaged for over a year, and had made the fur trade a lucrative one for the hunters and trap- pers that comprised the majority of the popula- tion of Stony Cliff. He also employed a num- ber of sub-agents who traded with the Indians and hunters at a distance from the village. These agents were mostly French Canadians, and a rough set of men. ‘“Where now has my truant little ward been?” asked Abel Hatch, as they ran alongside of Sylveen’s canoe. Sylveen blushed scarlet, and before she could reply, or recover from her embarrassment, Scott Shirely said; “Mr, Hatch, if you are going on down the river to your bear-traps, I balieys I will return with Sylveen if she has no objections,” Before Sylveen could utter a protest against his intention, in case she had any desire to do so at all, the young fur-trader arose to his feet and sta lightly into her canoe. Then Abel Hatch drove his craft on down the river, and Sylveen and Shirely were alone. ‘4 Sylveen, let me use the paddle,” said the young fur-agent, seating himself ore the Sylveen yielded reluctantly to his request, for | —— she would much rather have been alone with her own thoughts than in the company of Scott eg > “IT hope, Sylveen,” he said, apologetically, ‘that my company will not be distasteful to you.” ' “Qh, no, not at all, Mr. Shirely,” replied Sylveen, with a slight tinge of sarcasm in her voice. ‘‘T am quite fortunate, then, in dropping into your company, Miss Gray. Times are very, very dull at Stony Cliff just now. If it was not for the little excitement kept up ia consequence of Death-Notch’s doings, and by the freebooters under the notorious Pirate Paul, I’m thinking = Cliff would become as dreary as a rainy ay.” ““Have you heard any new reports about Death-Notch to-day?’ asked Sylveen. ‘* Nothing since poor El Pardou’s death.” “And what of Pirate Paul?” ‘He is said to be about,” said Shirely, and he fixed his eyes on Sylveen’s with a strange light shining from their depths. _Sylveen, however’ did not notice the expres- On, ‘* Who has seen him?’ she finally asked. ‘TI have,” replied Shirely. “You? Is it possible? When did you see him, Mr. Shirely.” “ Toxlay.” Syviveen uttered a little cry of fear. ‘But, Sylveen, why is it that your lover,” continued Shirely, ‘‘does not visit you at your home?’ Sylveen started as though a serpent had hissed in herear. Her face grew deathly pale, her dark-blue eyes flashed with indignation, and her lip curled with scorn and disdain. ‘What do you know, Scott Shirely, of m lover? Have you been eavesdropping like a— ‘Nay, nay, Sylveen,” the young agent re» plied, in a regretful tone; ‘‘ but there is one whose duty it has been to keep on the alert. It is not generally known, Sylveen, that you have been meeting Ralph St. Leger in secret inter- views; but why, Sylveen, does he not come to see you at Stony Cliff?’ , ‘‘ He has his own reasons for not doing so,” replied Sylveen, disdainfully, ‘Yes, indeed, he has, Sylveen. He knows it would not be well for him to be caught in the village, for there are those there who would recognize him as Pirate Paul, chief of the prairie robbers.” What!” Sylveen almost shrieked; ‘‘ Ralph St. Leger, Pirate Paul?” ‘Tis even so, Sylveen,” replied Shirely; but the maiden was too much absorbed in her emo-~- tions to notice the latent meaning in his tone. ‘*Oh, my God!” she fairly moaned; “surely you are jesting, Mr. Shirely.” ‘Tam not, Sylveen. I would not trifle with the feelings of one so pure and honest-hearted as you. But time will convince you that I speak the truth; and when ead love for ee St. Leger has turned to hatred, then will I-hope myself to gain that love which the young prairie freebooter has dared to gain.” ‘‘ Mr. Shirely, I am ever so much obliged to you for this information if itis true; but not until I know positively that such is the case, will I believe that oneso manly and open-heart ed as Ralph St. Leger appears to be, could be guilty of such a erime.” ‘The proof shall be given, in due time,” re- plied the young fur-agent; “ for over a month there has been aspy on his track, consequently I know whereof I speak. But, Sylveen, let us talk of seg ees = Ble og pleasant. Have you made the acquaintance of the aew family lately come to Stony Cliff?’ “You allude to the G ry family, do you not?” asked the maiden, though her thoughts seemed to be far away. ‘* Yes,” replied Shirely. “I called yesterday to see them. They ap- pear to be fine people.” ‘There is a young woman in the family, is there not ?” ‘Yes; Miss Martha Gregory. But her health is very poorly and she is unable to be out of her room half the time. She seemed greatly shock- ed by the news of El Pardou’s death at the hands of Death-Notch.” ‘She did ?” questioned Shirely, and there was a. little strangeness in his tone. “Yes,” replied Sylveen. ‘I suppose she i somewhat nervous and unused to these horrors of frontier life.” By this time they had reached a point where the bluffs rose up on each side of the river, places to the so of a hundred feet. Atdit. ferent points the cliffs were shelving and thede =) faces covered with creepers and tieal pemate and variegated colors that ed in rich estoonery to the water’s ed The young trader drove She canoe on up the river until he came to where the bluffs were leas peecipitoes, and where a chipped ~—a ih Ae .