Beadle's Dime Library, No. 13 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

which rope was fastened to a limb overhead. They hastened to examine this singular ob- ject. That the person had been in this osi- | tien & considerable time, was quite obvious. | The horse, pinched with hunger, kad gnawed | the grass down to the roots, and eaten the lower branches of the trees as far as he could stretch his neck. The poor animal stood with ‘head depressed, presenting a most melanchol figure, with his distinctly-defined ribs ssid gaunt outlines. The ne RNAS individual on his back was in a still sorrier plight. His face was haggard, his eyes bloodshot, and his eee as hopeless as despair could render it. “En nom Dieu have pity on me, gentle- men!’ he exclaimed, in a faint voice. Pathaway sprang forward and cast the noose from his neck. The revulsion from horror to hope was too great; the man gasped—two hot tears coursed down his ghastly cheeks, and he fell senseless into the arms of the hunter, who Immediately placed him upon the ground, while Nick ran for some water, which he ba in his cap and dashed upon him. “He’s gone, I do believe!” said the tra r. “And that poor animile under the tree as stood stock still in his tracks two whole days, I'll be bound! See how his feet have worn into the sile by a constant takin’ em up and puttin’ ’°em down! Now, isn’t that what ye call patience and obedience to the will o’ man? ‘Il wager my rifle that this poor feller’s his master, and that they’ve growed attached to each other by long von For faithfulness, give me a hoss, J say! I love a hoss, by gracious !” _ “Tm with you, heart and soul! The horse ig @ noble animal. Heavens! what tortures both man and beast have suffered during the long, dreary, and frightfully monotonous hours they have been here!” answered Patha- way, with warmth. “He don’t come out on’t. "T'was too sud- dint—the relief was. It has done his business quicker nor the rope.” _ “His heart beats—there’s a tremulous mo- tior. of the pulse—a slight swelling of the fin faint flush upon his hollow cheeks. > ITis eyes unclose—pour some water upon his lips.’ The man came back to consciousness with a sobbing sigh, and a thril) and quiver of the limbs, as the first wave of memory dashed upon his brain. “He musn’t see the horse nor the tree,” said Pathaway, considerately. | “Tallow not. The sight would bring back too forcibly the recollection of his awful diffi- kilty. I'll lead the faithful hoss to the water while you tend to his master.” “Go on, and I'll carry the unfortunate fe)- | low in my arms till he is able to help himself a little!” _Pathawa ’ lifted the man with ease, and bore him after Nick until he had reached the stream, by which time he was quite conscious. The hunter then mixed some spirits and water, which the sufferer swallowed with famishing avidity. A hard biscuit that Nick had in his peeks’ softened in the stream, was then given im, Which he devoured with that greedy haste that characterizes every stage of starva- tion. The horse, meanwhile, was quenching his thirst with the clear, running water. “ No more—no more !” said Nicholas. “ Too mush on’t, arter a starve, isn’t no better for hosses nor ’tis for men.” Still compassionate and true to his kindly nature, the trapper divided his remaining bis- euits with the horse ; and surely the animal was grateful—he expressed it in his eyes and ears, and in the manner in which he rested his meck upon Nick’s shoulder and whinnied. “ Don't talk to me about animiles!” oried Nick. “I’ve studied ’em, and I know ’em. I’ve summered and wintered with 'em ; feasted and starved, slept and waked with ’em; tend- ed ’em when they’s sick, and cussed be the man who beats his hoss !”” He struck himself upon the hip, and looked upward, confident that strong language would be forgiven on such a subject, then his face eA mildly and lovingly upon the horse, and he thought how many mile: he had been carried by his brethren. Pathaway began to admire Nick Whifiles— there was tenderness and simplicity in him— and those virtues cover a multitude of human | ains. He who cannot feel for a beast is a beast. | “The friend of the hoss and the dog is the | friend of everybody. He who abuses one or | other, will abuse al| humap kind) Them Pathaway. is my sentiments, by mighty !” “ Mon Dieu!” said the owner of the horse. “Is that you, Neek Wheefles, or is this one nd dream—one ver’ great deception ?” “Pontneuf, I swear to gracious! I didn’t know ye—the Lekdenblel hangin’ has took the nat’ralness all out of ye !” The voyageur grew pale at the mention of hanging, and nervously put his hand to his neck, around which was a pans line distinct- ly defined, the cord having been drawn straight, so that the least motion to the right or left, or any direction, produced a degree of strangula- tion. “T heerd about your misfortin, and he and I ventured into the Valiey to see if we could git any clue of your wnereabouts. I’m afeard to as ye about Nanny. ’Tisn’t a subject that can be pleasant to ye. But there’ll be time enough ; you can teli the whole story arter we git ye out o’ this condemned onnat’ral place. But we must leave the hoss, though I hate to have ye part with the critter, because he didn’t part with you when partin’ would a been sartin death to ye. There isn’t no help for't, but there’s plenty o’ grass and water, and ’tisn’t like leavin’ him te starve.’ Nicholas took Pontneuf upca his shou ders and carried him across the stream. “ Put me down, mon ami ; you s’all take hold my arm, and | will walk. My legs is ver’ weak and cramp; I set so long—so ver’ long! 1] zank you, Monsieur Neek Wheefles.”’ The Rerpe placed Pontneuf upon his feet but his limbs were so stiff and paralyzed that he could make no progress ; so Nick carried him again. Looking back after making their way a considerable distance, Pathaway per ceived, much to his surprise, that the voy ageur’s horse was following, which cireum stance he communicated to its owner. “ Bon cheval ! bon cheval ! he foller me every where as I s’all go. He will not leave me ne vare, nevare !”’ said Pontneuf, earnestly. “The critter’ll break his neck if he isn’t pesky keerful. It’s about as much as humane ean do to steer theirselves over these rocks Hold on to me tight, old boy, and I'll git ye out o’ this little diffikilty afore long. Here’s the Devil’s Camp-Kittle, and a few steps ahead is Devil’s Gate.’ Assisted by Pathaway, and lightening the task by his cheery remarks, Nick emerged in safety from the dark tunnel, and placed hie friend on firmer and smoother footing. Whil resting, they heard the horse neigh, and pre sently the creature 2 ipa uninjured, ap parently, by slip or fall. Pontneuf staggered to meet his favorite, and throwing both arms around his neck, hugged him, and shed tears ; while the animal returned these caresses by low, expressive whinnies that could not be misinterpreted. “His bones begin to show,” quoth Nick “ but bones wont hurt a hoss, as long as they’r in jints ; but if they’s all in one piece, the erit ter would be stiff-like and onpliable.” Pathaway turned inquiringly to Nick, but the latter’s peculiar vere was 80 quiet and honest, that he was puzzled to know whether he was in jest or earnest. Each, taking an arm of the voyageur, helped him up the ascent, and in half an hour they were clear of the myste rious precincts of Trapper Valley. Pontneut glanced back at it with a shudder. He was thinking of what he had suffered—-and of hit daughter Ninon. A thousand distressing thoughts went whirling through the voyageur’s brain ; he pictured his darling girl in the out law lair, subjected to indignities that wrung his paternal nature. He fell upon his face and ave himself up to emotions that were not dis am a to him as a man and a father. He was permitted to indulge in this outburst of grief without interruption. Calmer for the in ternal storm, and his spirit washed and puri fied, as it were, with tears, he arose. “Ah, Messieure—mes bons Messieurs, yan must pardon me ver’ much! I ery like one child. I nevare was ee weak, nevare! Oh! ma jolie Ninon |” “You are understood—you aie understood,” said Pathaway, sympathetically “be tternress that had rested upon his features for the last few moments, relaxing. “She’s worth cryin’ for, the gal is, but we must try and do somethin’ better nor to ery for her ; though I think more on ye, Pontneuf, for doin’ it. But we must go on; Sebastian will be expectin’ us, and I don’t keer to expose the lad to fright and danger. He’s young, you know’—to Pathaway—“ the boy is amazin’ young.” 13 ee - ——_ a es eS ee ee ee a They resumed their way, and were passing the cliffs previously mentioned, when the ubi- | quegee grizzly bear was descried ina mesquit thicket quite near them. “ Ah!” exclaimed Pathaway, “that myste rious bear again !” The bear arose straight upon his hind feet and moved his fore paws as if swimming in the air. The circumstance struck the voyageur as being very extraordinary. “Fat on your faces in the wormwood!” cried Nick, with unusual vehemence, and suiting the action to the mandate, stretched the French- man upon the earth with unceremonious quick- ness. ‘“ There’s the unlucky hoss!” he mut- tered, much annoyed. “Do not give yourself some pain; I can manage him ar fuitein bit Down, Daphnis, down!” said the Frenchman, rising upon his elbow. The horse immediately sank upon his knees, then upon his shoulders, as if in the act of rolling, then quietly settled mA his side, and was quite still, with his large, brown eyes fixed on his master. “ What did you see?” whispered Pathaway. “ Nothin’,” answered Nick. “You heard something ?” added the hunter. “No,” replied Nicholas, “ I didn’t hear nor sec nothin’ neither, but I know there’s diffi- kilty ahead, if we don’t look sharp. I can tell by my feelin’s when there’s danger in the neigh- borhood; and not by my feelin’s, either, so much as by other things.” Pathaway lifted his head carefully to take a second look at the bear, but he had disap- peared. By and by they heard the clattering of hoofs, and after waiting in a state of suspense’ about five minutes, a party of horsemen came into view from the western quarter, and rode on- ward to the east in a line parallel with Trap- i Valley. They passed within ten rods of ick and his companions, who were thus afford- ed a good opportunity for observation. The most striking figure of the group was a young woman, who rode with peculiar ease and bold- ness, and, in fact, took the lead of the caval- eade. Her dress was of a character so uncom- mon, that it is a matter of difficulty to describe it; but in effect, it was picturesque, with @ touch of wilderness wildness. The person of the ferale equestrienne was not large, but shapely and agreeable to the eye. From the waist upward, is figure was distinetly outlined by her close-fitting habit of red cloth. the glare of which was relieved by stripes of black. She wore upon her head a dark cap with long, red plumes, that swayed gracefully to and fro to the motiors of the body. Her hands were covered with black gauntlets, but whether those hands were small, Pathaway was too far dis tant to determine ; neither could he deeide re- specting the beauty of her features, but was in- alined to believe them handsome. Whether Nick’s eyes were sharper, or whether he was more partial to the sex, we do not know; but he affirmed with the greatest confidence that she was as “ pooty asa pictur!” Heshook his | head as he said it, and looked inquiringly at the voyageur, who was seized with a sudden fit of trembling, and laid closer to the ground. The men who followed in the train of the | young woman were ten in number, of a hybrid | appearance. In short, they had that rouzh and swaggering air that marked them of Is w- less habits ant adventurous fortunes. Their equipments and habiliments correspon¢ed with those that Pathaway had seen in the canon. | | accessible by both man and beast.” “ You are right, mon frére. ‘There is an en- trance far below; they took me through it, CHAPTER XI. SEBASTIAN HAS VISITORS- _ ee OOO EOOEEEEeEeE Eee = rt e’enamost sartin they was birds of a feather. “TI thought so,” muttered Nick. “TI was There must be another entrance to the Valley, went ?” “Tis Carlota!” whispered the Frenchman, in a disturbed manner; “ Carlota, the outlaw’s daughter.” but it was in the night, and ver’ dark. We followed what they called the Trapper Trace. Then, le diable! who s’all know where we Carlota and her followers were now hidden from view. The parties arose from their re- cumbent posftion, and pursued their way to- ward Nick’s new camp. After the departure of Nick and Pathaway, | the wounded trapper arose; and Sebastian led him out into e sunshine, in the golden CGOMILERDOOKSGEO ee ee et ee