Beadle's Dime Library, No. 13 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

——— ee 4 me ee oe ee a sich accidents in the wilderness. Git used to everything, you know, arter a while” The free trapper stopped, and filled his mouth from the pouch which Nich as tendered him, then rolling the narcotic mass into his right cheek with his tongue, added : “JT obsarved you war lookin’ at that heap o’ rocks. We call it the haunted city.” “We? Who?” asked Nicholas. The man hesitated, then stammered “ Why, we free trappers, to be sure !” “T wasn’t aware,” replied Nicholas, “ that folks went. trappin’ "mong the rocks. I gin erly set my traps in the valleys, on streams, and lakes.” “Tn coorse; but one can’t help seein’ a mountain o’ rocks like that, if he’s anywhere in the neighborhood on’t. But Ill tell you that it isn’t a place of good repute. People o”’ my craft usually give it a wide berth Lonely trappers end hunters have suddenly disappeared in the vicinity of Haunted City. Nicholas shook his head incredulously, and the trapper went on: “ Noises have beer heerd there like dis- charges of artillery. The Ingins say that the Thunder Spirit lives there. Have heerd tnys- terious rumblin’s there myself. There’s a deep valley away yonder, called Lost-Trapper Valley. We call it Trapper Valley for short.” “ Who named these places?” asked Nicholas, looking sharply at his companion. “ Kvery place must have @ name, you know,” he replied, somewhat perplexed again. “ One place is named from one sarcumstanee, another from another.. I happen to know about ’em, ’cause I’ve died a good many times at Otter Creek—which, I reckon, can’t be more nor five or six miles from here. By the way, stranger, I allow you oughter have a name yourself?” The trapper looked at Nicholas inquiringly. “ You're right, mister,” returned the latter, “T have plenty o’ names, and I don’t know as I’m ashamed of any of ‘em. The Ingins, ‘cording to their heathenish notions, call me Doubledark, having somehow or other got the idee that I’m shy and crafty, which is a mis- take o’ theirs. The fact is, I’m neither dark nor deep, but transperient, as ‘twere, and easy to see through. As for bein’ double-faced or double-natured, I ain’t. I don’t carry two faces—I never did—I can’t. Oh, no!” Nicholas took a long breath, and let it out slowly, with the air of a maa who feels that injustice has been done him. “ Doubledark !” repeated the other, with a mocking laugh. ‘ You don’t look like it, eh? But what's your white name? I don’t eare much about red titles.” “There’s a name that I used to be ealled by, but sencé it’s got down into the settle- ment, and been talked over a good ’eal by folks that I don’t know nothin’ about, I ain’t forrard "bout mentionin’ it to strangers. The truth is, that I’ve bean writ up in the papers by idle people that hadn’t nothin’ better to do —and I don’t jest like it. I'll make a pison diffikilty "mong ’em, if I ever git down as fur as the clearin’s. I never ’spected that things would come to sich a pass. I s’posed I should be left to live and die in peace onmolested on the peraries, with my gun and traps by my side, and my dogs and hosses around me, But we ain’t sure o’ nothin’ in this world but diffikilty, and that we can count on with some sartinty. They tetehed me in a tender p’int when they put me in print, and doubted the traditions o’ my family.” “If you're goin’ on in this way, mister, you may as well drop the subjeck, for you'll never it at the question I asked ye. As for print in’ and all that sort o’ nonsense, I never trouble myself about it, and can’t read a wore if it’s printed never so well.” “I'm a meicet man,” resumed Nicholas, though I have tay peoulyarities. All 1 want is, to be let alone.” The speaker brought his rifle down upon the ground emphatically, and added : “Nick Whitiles wants to be left alone—- left alone to tell his stories, to have his joke, to live out his own life in his own way. Oh, yes!” The free trapper fell back a little, chewed his quid violent.y, ran his eyes up and down Nick’s tall figure, and said presently, in a roiee thickened with tobacco juice ° “So you're Nick Whuiifles? Guess so! Poot likely L “ What am { to understan’ by that?” de- manded Nicho'as, tartly. “That I’m not a woolly sheep!” answered the trapper, with a grin. The New York Library. “T don’t git at your meanin’ yit, precisely. Be a little more plainer, if ’tisn’t too much trouble,” ‘iniertat Wick quietly. “ Don’t throw dust in my eyes, and I won't wink !” said the trapper, with provoking cool- ness. “T don’t like to have a man begin my ‘quaintance by doubtin’ my word,” responded Nick, with warmth. “If you can’t ellat a Shy when he tells you his name, you must e a faithless critter ; and I calkilate that we ean’t hitch hosses together, nohow. I a’n’t Nate but I want to be believed when ‘m tellin’ the simple truth. The Lord knows that I a’n’t sia o’ my name; and for the reasons I’ve give, should very well like to for- git it. But if you doubt my veracity, I’m afeard there’ll be a diffikilty atween us.” “ You threaten, eh? Goin’ to seare me, &'n’t ye? Come now, that’s good, Mr. Double- ark, Darkdouble, or Doubledark, I shall knock under right away. Uh!” The trapper fin- ished his remarks with a grunt that might have honored a grizzly bear. “ Before we go any further, I should uke some kind of a handle to handle you by!” said Nick. “Take Jack Wiley, and handle me by that; and ruther keerfully, too, for there’s some glass in me, and I may break with rough usage.” “ Glass, and brass, too!” muttered Nick. “ Jes’ so, if you like it. As for Ingin nick- names, I a’n’t a whit behind any free trapper in the country, but have got as many and as long. Some call me the Medicine-Calf.” ‘‘ Should like to hear ye bleat, Mister.” “ One tribe calls me Two Hundred Hosses, because I run off a drove o’ hosses of jest that number, one night, from their camp. But come, I don’t feel disposed to quarrel with a man who has done me a good turn, even if he does undertake to gammon me a little.’ ‘‘ Well, be it so; but if things hadn’t teen as they are atween us, I'd made you believe that the moon was made of buffaler-humps, and you'd roast a slice on’t ona stick. But, owme on, Jack Wiley, let’s folier this ridge.” “It'll take us ruther too near the Mock City to be altogether agreeable!’’ returned Wiley, as Nick moved onward. “That's clear Ingin,” said Nick. “ White men never ought to git sich notions into their heads. I’ve heerd o’ this rocky city afcre, but never believed there was anythin’ onna- teral about it, less a mountain-sheep or @ poor root-digger are sunthin’ out the common course.” “T don’t pertend to be any wiser nor m neighbors, and shall speak only for myself; but I shall give Trapper Valley and that mountain a wide berth. It’s said that them that enter Trapper Valley never find their way out, and a’n’t never heerd on ag’in. The Ingins think the place enchanted by a bad spirit, and that everybody, who unfortinitly gits into it, becomes immed’ately lost, and is oomed to wander up and down, looksag for a way out all the rest of his days. You needu’t shake your head; I tell ye they’ve been seen there, Mr. Doubledark.” “ Well, I won’t dispute the p'int, Songs I never ’spect to see anythin’ worse ner / am wherever I may go. I never could see sperits myself, but I had a niece that eculd see ’em in quantities to suit customers. You've heerd o’ my family, I allow. There was my gran’- father, the traveler, and my uncle, the ‘ate- rian, that were oncommon in their line 0’ busi- ness. I know that folks have shook their heads and laughed in their sleeves, as ‘twere, when I’ve mentioned their expl’itev, which I have, occasionally, to keep their memories reen.” 6 With this kind of conversation to beguile the way, the parties kept on till they reached a spot where they could command a fuller view of the Mimic City, which, phere . up spectrally in the moonlight, looked weird and solemn. Hs “Down yender,” said Jack Wiley, pointing, “where you see the rocks piled high, is the entrance to Lost Trapper Valley. It is called the Devil’s Gate. Havin’, as I told you, trapped at Otter Creek, Beaver Springs, and Black Rock, I’ve picked up these stories from one and another that I’ve come across in the way 0’ business,” “You interest yourself more about sich things nor I do. Give me good trappin’ and huntin’-ground, and I won't trouble myself about the superstitions of the Ingins and ig- n’ant white men.” Nick suddenly paused, then added, m a dif. ferent tone : “Jack Wiley, look there, among the rocks, ere see if them is some of your hebgob- : 8 1” ‘“‘ Where—where ?” demanded Wiley, “Don’t you see ’em movin’ sont ‘wong the rocks ?” “Yes, I do; and we’d better be goin’, "less we should see somethin’ worse!’ responded Wiley, hurriedly. “You ean go where you please, Mr. Two Hundred Hosses ; but my eyes was give me for sarvice, and I shall use ’em.” Nick’s attention had been attracted by the discovery of several persons gliding among the rocks in single file. They were not so fa, distant, but he could see them ver plainly. Their garments and manner of walking inti- mated that they were white men, although Nicholas could not positively affirm them to be such. He counted five, and the foremost wore a red sash about his waist. He could see their weapons gleam in the moonlight, Instantly his mind reverted to the scene that had transpired in the little basin, when ms | to discover the person or persons who h stolen his traps. A singular train of thought was at once awakened. He watched with an interest not easily described, the progress of the five figures, while Wiley stood sullen and silent beside him. Nicholas did not speak. Resting his right arm upon his rifle, with « kind of quiet abstraction of manner, he fol- lowed with his eyes the movements of the parties among the mimic walls and fragments of the haunted city. pak 4 descended to the bottom of the valley, and were lost to view near the Devil’s Gate. Jack Wiley, during this time, was observing his countenance closely. “What do you think on’t?” he asked, ab- ruptly. : i hat it’s not an oncommon thing to see Sreppere in this part of the country!” answer- ed Nicholas, drily. “Not sich as them—not sich as them !” muttered Wiley, “I’ve one piece of advice to give you, stranger; and I do it out of gra titude for the good turn you’ve done me: Shun Trapper Valley, the City of Rocks, and the country hereabout, as you would a war- party of Blackfeet, or the plague, or the pes- tilence, or anything that’s dangerous and to be feared.” , “T thank ye, Jack Wiley, for the warnin’ ; but I’m not afeard of man or goblin. . I've walked the woods, and mountains, and pric ries many years, and there’s no place that fear more nor another. All spots atween Co- lumbia River and Hudson's Bay are alike to me. I know the haunts of the wolf, the grizzly, the panther, and all the destructive enimiles of this region, as well as all the vil- lages, trampin’, campin’, and huntin’-grounds of the red pison sarpents; and I go to and fro as one who understands his craft, and has taken the measure of his compacity to meet sarcumstances and govern ’em.’ Nicholas uttered these words with decision ; and shouldering his rifle, resumed his way with the firm step of one who has confidence in his own judgment and foresight. CHAPTER IV. THE GRAY HUNTER. The youth—Sebastian Delaunay—ha reached the plateau, entered a small hut hi den in a wth of cotton-wood. The do followed him, looking back, occasionally, im the direction their inaster had taken. A fire was blazing in the centre of the hut, beside which he seated himse!f For a while he be- guiled the time by oh <0 ty peony to the shafts of some arrows, while his canine com panions, stretched at his feet, observed his operations with half-closed eyes and sleepy good-nature. Wearying of this employment, » and anxious for the return of Nicholas, he took down an Indian long-bow that. hung against the wall of the hut, and after atringing it carefully, buckled a well-filled quiver acros# his shoulders, then made his way to the spot where he had parted with the trapper. It was * dark ; but the dogs, taking the scent of their master, ran along before him, thus yuiding him to the valley. Like a sleepless sentinel, he kept faithful watch upon the cliffs until the moon came up, sometimes talking with the dogs, at others, musing. uddenly, the dog, Smuggler, erected hia. ears and pointed his long nose down the val- ley, which was now faintly silvered over with the moonbeams; his four-footed associate Eomichboo