Beadle's Dime Library, No. 13 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

The New York Library. | 4 take the world as I find it. It’s a good world, I allow, as good as the Master o’ Life could make, for I know that he’s so good and | true that he'd made a better one if he could. There’s bad folks in it—sartin, there’s bad folks in it; but all these things’ll come right | in the course o’ natur’. Wonder where he’s goin’ ?” As there was no one to answer the trapper s last interrogation, he was obliged to depend on himself for a suitable response ; and after dogging him up hill and down through gully, ravine, and defile, he stood at last on the emi- nence overlooking Trapper Valley, while Jack | Wiley was making his way down the declivity toward Devil's Gate. “He don’t pear to be so much afeared o’ the hopgoblins as he was two or three hours ago,” muttered Nicholas. “I think I’m on the track of them I’ve been lookin’ for. I'll git at the mystery at last—people allers gi at mysteries when they try. I’ll just keep the om eman in sight. There isn’t no harm in owin’ the kind o’ company he keeps, and it may do a - o’ good. I must hurry, for it’s near daylight; and I don’t b’lieve it’s a safe place to explore when the sun is shinin’ ” The ground which the parties were now traversing was cut up and rendered danger- ous by yawning chasms, jagged rocks, rifts, and guiches. There were marks everywhere around him of voleanic convulsions, that had, at some period of the world’s history, up heaved the foundations of th2 mountains, and east forth glowing streams of melted rock and earth. Progtently Wiley was lost to view, hidden by the rugged inequalities of the de- scent. Nick followed the horse-stealer with all that philosophical patience for which he was renowned, although the undertaking cost him much labor. and some bruises and scratch- es from the sharp and flinty surfaces. He | drew near the valley, and saw Wiley disap- pear through a gigantic archway of rocks. | “’Twas rightly named,” said Nick, gazing | at the gloomy portal with interest. “If it q don’t look like the Devil’s Gate, I’m no judge, and don’t know a common door from an open- | ing in the clouds.” A EE I —————_—— <r OO = eee oe eee ee | he two sides of the gate were formed by | ‘towering columns of basalt, which, leaning toward each other, met at the top. Other | shafts of the same formation, some larger, some smaller, filled up the pigture, and being crowded closely together, es but one main entrance to the mysterious region called Lost et a Valley. When the object of his pur- suit had passed out of sight, the curiosity of Nicholas was so much excited, that he was un- willing to return without making further ex- plorations. Advancing, he stood upon the | weird portal, while the mimic city loomed up | before him in the northern quarter. He went forward, but darkness was before him. It | seemed to him that he was entering a subter- ranean region. The air was chilly and freight- ) ed with damp vapor, while the footing was dangerous. He had proceeded but a short distance, when he ite a misstep, and receiv- ed a fall that bewildered him ; but becomin clear in a moment, went on again. He stad now and then amid his wainblings and blun- derings, and tried to see the stars overhead, but ceuld not. Very cautious persons would | have abandoned the adventure; but Nick, like Napoleon, trusted in his star. He had " escaped so many perils, that he seriously doubted whether a real misfortune could be- | fall him. His strangely-constituted mind had acquired such a strong belief in a protectin Providence, that the apprehension of evil sel- dom or never obtruded. After considerable groping, the trapper found himself in a spot where he could obtain a glimpse of the sky through the branches of large, over-hanging trees. Hearing a his- sing and roaring noise, he proceeded, and dis- covered the cause of the same in a hot spring that threw water to the height of several feet, emitting clouds of steam which stood over the spot like a misty canopy. Whatever feel- ings of superstition inhered to Nick were awazened. How did he know but the tradi- tions of the red men were true ? He had lived } and communed with Nature less than forty | years, and did not know her tarot 3 | some of her secrets, questionless, were hidden vrom his perceptions. He had not seen her a unveiled—he had known her outward forms only. There might be a subtle arcanum tran. cending all his practical notions, to which he was a stranger, There was no weak blood in Nick Whifiles—he could pot be a coward any — = —— ee es more than he could be mean, and the latter: was among the impossibilities ; but there is a wholesome regulator that governs the abstruse machinery of man when the eommon safe- guards fail. Nicholas felt a thrill of ecold—a shivering of the nerves that was uncomfortable, and turned to retrace his steps, anxious for the open sky and familiar landmarks. He had not made much progress, when he became aware that he was not alone in the tunnel. He heard seratch- ing sounds on the rocks, like a dog or larger animal scrambling over them. The darkness was too great to allow him to see far, although he was extremely desirous to know what kind of companionship he was keeping. He was naturally sharp-sighted; and, getting accus- tomed to the midnight sombreness, he was able to discern an object moving along a lit- tle in advance, in a parallel line with himself. At first, he was disposed to think it a person creeping upon the conde and knees—but he soon entinn this idea as incorrect. To satisfy his doubts, he threw a small stone at it, and it was answered by a threatening growl. Nick paused ; his position was most unen- viable. He was undecided whether to advance or retreat; but, as the bear kept on, he con- cluded to proceed, believing that there was more safety before than behind him, for the limpse he had obtained of the vestibule of ces Valley had impressed him unfavora- bly. Nick felt his way along, guiding himself by the pointed rocks on his left, narrowly e8- caping several dangerous rifts and pitfalls. He reached, to his satisfaction, the portals of the Devil’s gate, and was congratulating him- self on his good luck, when a muttered growl a few paces to his right, caused him to start, rasp ‘his rifle, and half unsheath his bowie- nife. Standing by one of the prismoids of basalt, looking over his left shoulder with open mouth, was the bear—a grizzly of formidable size. The trapper partly raised his rifle—at which movement Bruin growled savagely, showing vows of teeth like spears of ivory. Nick knew the nature of the animal—that he was tenacious of life, and nearly impervi- ous to the assaults of man. The pain of a ri- fle ball excites his fury without depriving him of the power of doing mischief—that it was seldom, indeed, he could be brought down by a single shot. ‘ No, no! it won’t do!” muttered the trap- r. “He’s an animile that don’t admit of 4 ead shot. Besides, it isn’t light enough to do that kind o’ shootin’ that decides the question of life and death. I alleys had a knack o’ run ain’ into p‘ison diffikilties, and never shall outgrow it. But I’ve squeaked out of so many dangers, that I don’t believe I was pre- sarved for bear-meat at last. If I should be devoured by this critter, I wonder if they’d git hold on’t down in the clearin’s and put it into the tattlin’ newspapers. I’d bother ’em, I al- low, Mo, there’s nobody but the bear to tell on’t |” Nick smiled grimly ; he derived smesnaga th satisfaction from the conceit. He was still fuli of his old quaintness—it was ready to flow out of the comical corners of his mouth, to twinkle at you from his genial eyes. Danger could not change the spirit that was in him ; under all cireumstances, he was Nick Whiffles, the unique, the whimsical. Peril, from man or beast, could dash him for a moment only ; he reacted like an india-rubber ball. “Come, now, don’t threaten too much ” he added, addressing bruin, who was making very hostile demonstrations ; “for there’s a stickin’ p’int in human natur, beyond which patience isn’t vartue. If you was’nt so good at runnin’ up hill, i’d give ye a pill right un- der your ear—I rs by mighty! Snarl, if e want to! I killed two of your brothers last all. You're nothia’ but an over-growed dog, anyway, and out o’ shape at that. Your nose looks as though ‘twas made to pick the leay- in’s out of a sink-spout, and your hind feet is as long as a hosse’s head !” Bruin arose and sat upon his haunches, his fore-feet hanging down like the flippers of seal, while his back rested against the pillar of basalt. Nick would have retreated, but he stood, unfortunately, in the Devil’s Gate, and could not safely go in any other direction than through the tunnel toward Trapper Valley— a locality he did not then care to visit. He maintained his post, keeping his eyes stead- on the bear. He cautiously cocked his ily u rifle but did not point it, fearing to make any movement to further excite the ire and suspi- cion of bruin. “T don’t like to be stared at in that way, you earpint! Never seed me afore, did ye? Like to eat me, perhaps—but ’twould be the tough- est mouthful that ever ao got hcld of. Never come across Nick Whiffles in your travels, eh? Rayther prepossessin’ in my ‘pearance, I cal- kilate; but I warn ye that ye’ll find more grease on my huntin’-shirt than on any part o’ my system. Haven’t had much time to slick up, lateky.” Bruin now stood singularly erect, and took two steps toward Nicholas, who leveled his rifle. “Do that ag’in, old boy, and have a p’ison diffikilty, right off! The bear did not stir, but stood up straight asaman. As the two confronted each other, the first glow of morning appeared in the west: and a few golden threads of light, the avant-coureurs of the coming arn, fell upon the columns, towers, and walls vf tLe mimic city The form of the bear sank to the @arth, and you and [’ll the figure of a human being arose. Nick re. oiled against one of the columns of the moun- tain gate. “ An Injin, I swear to gracious! Who are ye, redskin? What you masqueradin’ in that shape for? You'll git into diffikilty sometime in that way !” “ Doubledark is brave. He does not fear the teeth of the bear, and walks with a big heart in the valley of the Thander-Spirit!” re. plied the figure that had uprisen from the skin of the bear. “Tt is Multnomah, chief of the Shoshonés!” exclaimed Nick. “Glad to see ye, though this is the last place of all the world where I should look for ye. Your peopie are not often found in this neighborhood, on account of the stories that are told about what is seen and heard hereabouts.” “There is a Manito dwells here that we must not offend!” answered Multnomah, look- ing searchingly at Nick. “The Shoshonés make war upon men, not upon spirits—the first ean be seen and handied, the last are like the wind, invisible, and too fine fer the touch of mortals. Doubledark believes in a Manito of the mountains ?” The Shoshoné, who had advanced and sha- ken hands with the trapper, now regarded him with searching intensity. The question was intended to draw out infinitely more than it sid auc Nick became quaint in a moment —his eyes said, plainly: “I am a pump; work the handle, and out it comes.” In fact, the trapper thrust his right arm downward, in imitation of the arm of a pump. “ Ever see one of ’em y “ At Selkirk,” said the Indian, with a smile. “ Very good—fetch water—cool when it comes up. Wah! My brother is not a fool. He knows which way the buffalo goes by the track, he can tell when the winds will rush down the mountains by the looks of the clouds, and he learns by the setting of the sun what the wea- ther will be to-morrow.” “Red brother, your words are sensible— they tickle the ears of Doubledark. I despise a fool, by mighty! Redskin, the air isn’t good here—let us be walkin’.” ‘‘No,” said Multnomah, shaking his head ; “air bad—couldn’t live here long. Wah! Brother, why did you come in to such bad air ?” Nick had started off up the mountain side, but upon hearing this interrogatory, stopped short, and oer a wide, quizzical mouth te the Shoshone. “T went to see the Thunder-Spirit,” he re sponded. ‘“ Doubledark is too dark! he does not deal openly with his brother—his thoughts are shut up. We cannot walk together.” “ Shoshoné, there have been strange rumors about Trapper Valley—they have reached my ears. Is Multnomah discreet ?” The Shoshoné made no reply. A scornful smile curled his lips. “T understan ; it was ag’in the grain, and it wasn’t right, I allow, to question the discreet- ness of a Shoshoné chief. Give us your hand, redskin, and we’ll make a clean thing on't. There ain’t many white men that can be trust- ed fully ; but ip the kind o’ stuff you're made on. We've camped together many a night, Injin ; we've looked at the stars and the moon at the same time, and wondered how the sky come to be, and how long it had been, We've hunted in company, slept at the same fire, aud eaten of the game b the same Comicbooks.com