Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 1061 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

@ich staff as that same. Me throat is afther falin’ loike a tarantalar’s nist, an’ it’s sumthin’ what ’ll make me lively I’m nadin’, this blessed minite, afther the harrud ‘run, frum the divil kaows what they ware, bedad! Phat kind eva row is this afther bain’, onyhow, Misther Pete?’ “Vell, Mick, those pees sum of dem vellars, vat dink all de mulars an’ hosses on der bararies pees their own, ven dey don’t done got von pravting iron petween dem, und dey dries to ‘get som’ frients owert ob de courut house, put dey gits wusted in der game. Here psa goot schnaps; drinks it all, if vill do you 00 Mick dashed down the glass of whisky, as if he was used to that kind of liquor, and onl regretted that his throat was not longer and his capacity greater for taking in and consuming a larger quantity. CHAPTER V. ON THE MEDINA. the ouneaaey upon the town was the arrest of twoof their number, whom the bandits bad sworn to rescue. One had been hung, however, and the other was still in the hands of the authorities, anxious to see the end. Sam and his Ranger pards the next morning rode into town, from the camp at the San Pedro Springs and arrived at the Military Plaza at the very moment that Marshal Burns opened the 1 door to Mustang Bob, telling that celebrated rse-thief and desperado that he was free to go on his way, much to the surprise of the prairie outlaw. The Plaza swarmed with armed men, stern determination marked upon their ecountenances; and as Bob gained the Court House door, which opened upon the Plaza, and this, to him, fearful sight met his eye, he read his doom. Over the way he saw another foreboding sight which sent the blood from his face, leaving it of a deathly or—Counterbrand Jim swinging from the gallows tree, The instant Bob’s foot | pina the threshold the cocking of hundreds of rifles, shot-guns and revolvers broke ominously upon his ears, and full of fear he staggered against the door. But he braced himself, recovered his presence of mind, and glared, like a wild beast at bay, into the thousand piercing eyes; among which none showed a ray of meter “‘ Hang me, gentlemen,” he cried, ‘‘if you will; but, for God’s sake don’t shoot.” This strange est was made not because he referred to be hung; but,.because he thought ey would take him outside the city to execute him and then there would be a chance for his friends to rescue him. As Bob yelled out his request he gave a glance behind him. The ae door ne and the cell, front which he had gladly w , and into which he would now ve eagerly returned, was closed to him. There was no refuge; there was no outlet for escape: and with another wild, fearful yell, such as is seldom heard from human lips, he rung into the Plaza, from the Court House oor. A huge bowie-knife, in the hands of one of she Vigilantes, flashed before his eyes. | He grasped the blade firmly in his hand, but it was wrenched cut, cutting the hand clear across to the bone, while half a dozen brawny THE THE cause o sands grasped him and held him firmly, panting _ and struggling, and led him slowly through the densely packed Plaza, to the south-east corner, where stood a mesquite-tree, which had often served for the dread purpose before. The vast crowd was still as death, and naught was heard but the cowardly pleadings of Mustang Bob. A lariat with running nooze was thrown over a limb, the fatal loop quickly adjusted, and the time allowed for prayers spent in wild cries for mercy. ‘** Time’s up, Bob,” spoke one of the Vigilantes, in a stern, firm voice, holding his watch in his hand, and marking the time as coolly as for a race. Itis an ugly sight under any circumstances to see a man hung; but when that man spends his last momeyts in cowardly pleading, cries for mercy, and struggles for life, then it is most horrible indeed. So it was with Bob. Quite a serious scuffle occurred before his feet were tied fast and he swung clear from the ground, his body spas- modically twitching up and down and the blood flowing from his wounded hand down his cloth- ig: ge spattering the earth below, ot until the last gurgling gasp had been given -the last tremulous twitch of nerve, did the vast crowd heave a sigh of relief, and speak in whispers, which ran through the observer un- ased to such scenes like whispers from the lips of death. Before the Vigilantes had reached the fatal tree Buckskin Sam turned Black Cloud quickly, ‘and facing bis Ranger pards, exclaimed in a low voice: **Pards I’ve lingered here long enough. I’m _ off on a lone scout to the Medina river, to see if I can I ia up any information in rd to this raid. If you boys lay around San Antonio forty-eight hours you'll see or hear from me. camaradas ;” and touching his sombrero, guided his steed slowly through the crowd, Buckskin Sam. the good wishes and adieus of his pards being given silently. | | Cantering down a side street Sam turned | south before reaching San Pedro creek—then, in a wild gallop, suited to his spirits, he sped on | through the Mexican portion of the town, greeted from more than one casa with compli- ments from silvery tongued senoritas, and in five minutes was dashing like the wind clear of | the town, through the mesquites, on the down river trail toward Mission Conception. San Juan, San Jose and Conception Missions | were left far in the rear, the bridle reins hun loosely over the horn of his saddle, Black Clou needing no hand to guide, while his master with his Sharp’s rifle in the hollow of his left arm, inspected each clump of mesquites, with lightning glances. till onward, with no slack in the headlong | gallop, kept Black ye. until the timber which fringed the Rio M _ section a dangerous | a came in view. | There Sam and his mustang entered the dark | shades, and came to a halt upon the bank, under an immense live oak, literally shrouded in Spanish moss and vines. Just by his side, as Sam sat apes his horse, tg 3 a large festoon of moss, drooping from the branches overhead. This was ¢ by our hero, and its meshes carefully parted, showing in its center a bright, scarlet river flower, fresh plucked and wet. A look of pleasure and rise Overspread Sam’s features as he placed the flower in the coils of the glittering snake which served as som- brero band, and he gave an expectant glance upward. There came a rustle from among the moss and leaves, and down a huge vine glided an In- dian warrior, who grasped the hand of our hero, pressed the same to his heart, and then stood, with folded arms, his eagle plumes mingling with the swaying moss. Silent as a statue stood the Indian brave, his left ‘foot forward, his massive breast swelling with conscious strength and pride—a perfect icture of symmetrical beauty, a god of the | orest surrounded by Nature’s most lavish and luxuriant beauties. His buckskin leggins were fringed and embroidered in bead-work: the silken sash, to which the leggins were attached, and which also served as breech-cloth, was of the finest kind. A single strap, only worn by a chief, highly ornamented, passed over his shoulder, down to the sash, and supported paint- See | claimed Warlula, pons ‘** Houston greet warrior—paper talk much good—lay on heart when go on long, dark trail—when lay down in big. sleep — Great Spirit know Warlula heart white—say Warlula go happy hunting grounds —never dry, never tired, never hungry—it is good—W arlula heart glad.” ‘* 1 wish half of the white men were as honor- able as you are, Warlula. But to business. When we parted you volunteered to show your titude for the service I was glad to do you, y getting some information in regard to the movements of different parties who make this lace for a ranchero to locate in. How is it? Have your eyes been n. and are your moccasins worn thin?” ‘*Warlula trail go through thorns of Brayo— his eyes have been open—Greaser dogs on war- path—many bad white men with them—trail point San Antonio—my white brother has seen them—he bas heard the thunder of their guns— a little bird told Warlula big fight on Plazas— death-how]s have filled the air on Alamo.” ‘‘Warlula is right. The little bird sung a song of truth in hisear. Many bad men, Mexi- cans and white, were shot. Counterbrand Jim and Mustang Bob now hang like dogs from trees on the Plaza. We can stake out our mus- tangs and not be obliged to sleep with the lariats in our hand.” As Sam spoke of the desperadoes being bung the Tonkaway shuddered; his tribe believing that such a death debars an Indian from the hap y hunting grounds ferever. ‘Then you found out vothing in regard to any other parties except those who were so badl wie last night?” inquired Sam. ‘““Warlula moccasins make many trails—he has seen more—so many,” indicating fifteen by opening and closing his extended fingers. ‘‘Greaser dogs camp down Medina—camp there,”—pointing east—‘“‘ no go with others tu San Antonio—when night dark Warlula crawl like snake—hear Greaser dogs talk—say kill Buckskin for Monterey Mexican—get heap gold —say steal Senorita San Antonio—get heap more gold,” . ‘*'Where are these Greaser cut-throats now Warlula, who are so anxious for my life? ii give them a chance to take it if they think they can, “When sun come, short ride—when mus- | tang ig FF 0: camp quick; no there now, | gone Antonio— arlula no break word— bag, bullet-pouch and scalping-knife. Naught | come meet Buckskin—no follow trail.” covered’ the dark, bronzed skin, from the waist up, save a bear-claw collar, clasped about the muscular throat. The eagle-feathers of his head-dress were as black and somber as the long locks which fell behind, to the waist, ornamented with richly engraved silver plates, which spoke of raids over the Bravo. For an instant the eyes of the Indianin ted the surrounding shadows, then rested with deep affection and friendship n our hero, who sprung from Black Cloud, leaving the animal at liberty to browse at will. , One moment red and white gazed into each other’s eyes; then Sam quickly drew his bowie- knife, whirled it over his head, and hurled it with great force, burying the weapon to the hilt in the turf between the feet of the Indian, who, as the steel flashed in his eyes, never winked, or moved a muscle of his stoical face. Then Sam, pointing at the hilt projecting from the earth, exclaimed in a voice of earnest friendship: : “Thus, Warlula, do I bury the knife, and with it all thoughts unfriendly or suspicious. You are my brother. I now know you to be true as the steel beneath your feet. Houston, the great father of Texas, has said it, and his tongue never tells a lie. His tongue is not forked.” A beam of pleasure overspread the coun- tenance of the Indian, his form became a trifle more erect, his bosom swelled with gratified pride, and he answered: *Tonkaway tribe true to father of Texas— true to Rangers—Warlula heap glad Buckskin his brother—know big sun come when no clouds —know Warlula come when trail clear—Buck- skin friends, Warlula friends—when heap bad Mexican tie Warlula tree—try make tell where Rangers—spitin Warlula face—then come Buck- skin—shoot quick —cut loose —save Warlula life—no care life—want die in fight—no care be kill by Greaser dog—want be shoot in fight—go on long dark trail, plenty scalps—it is enough when Warlula forget Buckskin—then sun go black — moon come no more—here friend totem !” Plucking one of the long eagle-feathers from his head-dress the Tonkaway placed if in the sombrero band, by the side of the scarlet flower which had told our hero of his return from a long, lone scout, and his My Saprarei in the tree. Sam now took from his pouch a letter and gave it to the Indian, saying, in explanation: ‘*This paper talk is from Houston, the great chief of Texas; and in it he says, ‘ Warlula, the Tonkaway, is brave to a fault, true to the death to Texans, and no lies nestle upon his tongue. No better trailer between the Red and Bravo and | have known and called him friend and brother for years.’ ” “Heap good talk from Great Chief!” ex- it iy ’ | ’ 1 rs 's - ” j ; , j .) vy ss . eo ! e ‘ ‘ . : 7 , sh wad we MLN ay bike “tia ay ‘ail - eee Bo tS) ew el ‘** This is all the news you have then, my red brother?’ ‘““Warlula got more talk—plenty sign on Rio Bravo—big chief of horse-thieves there—got many warriors—Cortinc heap big camp—Burgos Mountains.” ‘‘What’s that?” exclaimed Sam, in surprise, ‘*'You have not been so daring as to cross the Rio Grande into Mexico alone?” ‘‘Warlula swim Bravo—Warlula ride fast, ride long for friend.” “Give me your hand again. I’m more than satisfied, ’'m proud, to call you brother; and will say, in true sincerity, you do sling yourself around the country about as lively as elec- tricity.” ‘“Who he?” exclaimed the Indian, quickly, ‘* Big warrior?—much fight on war-path?” “Yes,” answered Sam, laughing. ‘“ He’s the biggest chief in our nation, and rides like the lightning in the skies.” arlula was satisfied he had been compared to no small fry. ‘** Well, my red brother, I must return to the city by way of that Gresser camp. I want to run in on their trail if I can, Do you need any- thing? I see you are rigged for council in gay style. Reekon those fancy tricks haven’t seen much service.” ‘‘Leggins make long time—hide in nest up there,” pointing up the tree., ‘‘When go on trail: got more—much bead no good on war- th—Warlula want nothing—kill deer with w—no make noise like rifle.” ‘*When shall I see you again, and where? You need rest for some time to come.” ‘“Warlula never rest—no say where go— sometime here—sometime there—keep eyes open—Buckskin see red brother when no think —Warlula watch trail of white brother—maybe so save scalp.” Sam gave a low whistle and Black Cloud came dashing up to his side, rubbing his nose affectionately against his master’s shoulder. The band of white and red met in a warm, friendly grasp, which spoke more than words; eyes met, reflecting heart-glances of mutual re- gard, and Sam sprung into the saddle, waved his sombrero over his head and then dashed down through the bottom timber toward the Greaser camp, leaving the Tonkaway standing beneath the swaying moss with Neamt arms folded over massive breast, gazing after his white friend. For a long time stood Warlula, bis eyes fixcd upon the bushes, which had been dashed asiie as Sam sped down-stream. All was silent ex- cept the ripple of the river, and the gentle ) ispers of the zephyrs through the mossy raperies. Suddenly the Indian’s head turned toward a Pe ee, ee! Ae dhe ae ay wt ; Devil Wy fae a Waly ee » ie oe > » _ - . . Cae i = ef, ‘yy