Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 137 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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26 the British again advanced, reinforce large band of savages, whose blood-curdli vells did more to strike fear to the hearts of | the Americans than the bristling bayonets of the English. The fight now became desperate. The enemy pressed on to the very muzzle of the American rifles, and a few succeeded in Hata over the bank to meet a certain death. ajor Van Horne’s reserve coming up put the enemy to rout for the third time. “ Charge! Charge!” thundered the voice of the commander, as he saw the enemy turn and flee, and in an instant the Americans swarmed out from behind their breastworks and started in pursuit of the foe. But victory had not yet been purchased. The savages now, from their concealments, opened a deadly fire upon them, checking their advance, and giving the English a chance to rally and return to the conflict. A terrible hand-to-hand encounter now en- sued. Both sides fought desperatel y—one flushed with partial victory, the other with that des- peration upon which life and victory are staked. And. Happy Harry was in the hottest of the struggle. en fell around him on all sides. The terrible eyes of the enemy glared into his very face. He could see that awful look which the heat and excitement of battle gives to the human face and features. The sou] was trans- formed to that of a maddened demon in each warrior. He seemed drawn on to battle by some fascination that he could not resist. Death appeared to have no horrors for him. He was past fear; he was literally elate with the combined horrors of battle and death. He took no thoughts of what he was doing. Harry saw the color-bearer of the enemy pusbing directly toward him with a drawn sword. He was a powerful man—a Hercules in stature and a His face was. mad- dened and contorted by the horrors of battle. He fixed his glaring eyes upon the youth with a look that told his murderous intention. ‘Shoot that color-bearer, Harry,” cried old Davy Darrett, as he staggered and fell under the shock of a musket-ball that tore its way through his shoulder. Harry drew his pistol and fired at the giant Englishman. The ball struck him square in the forehead. A oe thrilled his great form. The glare of death fell like a cloud upon his face. He was virtually dead, but did not fall. The body continued to advance — the boy —still obeying the impulse of the will now gone. A red spot appeared on the forehead where the bullet had entered; then the blood spurted out in little jets, the eyes glazed, the muscles relaxed their stony rigidity, and the body fell at the feet of the boy-soldier. Never until his dying-day did Harry forget the awful death-look cf that man. The youth the colors from the bear- er’s lifeless hand, and at the same instant the orders for the retreat were sounded along the American lines. But the retreat began in dis- order, and terminated in a wild panic. The Ameri endeavored to rally behind the bank of the creek, but the enemy were so close upon them, and in such overwhelming odds that a stand was impossible, and the defeat became final to ame seenecions arms.* He 2 Seeing how matters stood, ppy Harry, still clinging to the captured ialead, ran for dear life. He soon reached the bank of the creek at a point where the high waters had, at one time, broken across an abrupt bend in the stream, leaving a narrow bank of earth stanc- ing out in the stream a few feet from shore. The water had eaten the dirt away from the base of this until its upper edges hung over two or three feet. There was no water at the time within three or four feet of this ridge of earth. , as he came up, made a leap for this ro but the distance was too long for him, and he Janded at the base of the rid A soldier, more successful than he, succeeded in leaping upon it, and just as his feet left it in a bound for the opposite side, tons of the shelving top fell over upon Harry, completely burying him from human eyes! THE Americans were completely ~ routed. What at first had promised to be such a bril- liant victory terminated in total defeat and the loss of many brave and noble men. But we will not enter iuto further details of this battle than is necessary to follow up the characters of our story. That one could exist for a single moment be- neuth a pressure of two or three tons of earth is a question that no one would give a second thought. Nor did the British soldier who saw the earth fall upon the youth. But Harry was far from being dead, notwith- standing the weight that was over him. He had fallen so close in against the base of the ridge that when the projecting top fell down a space was left between the bottom of the wall and the dirt that fell, and in this space Harry lay. This narrow prison was closed at —_—- * This conflict, known in history as the Battle of Brownstown, was fought August 5th, 1812, The de- feat of Van Horne was, however, retrieved a few days tater on the same ground by a brilliant victory of the Amencans under Col. er. Five minutes after the fall of pee Kale | the top, for the earth fell in one solid chunk, by a | but at each end there was a small opening that admitted air and sound. For awhile after the falla cloud of stifling dust pervaded the youth’s narrow prison, and it seemed as though he should surely suffocate; but this soon settled, and Harry was permitted | to rejoice over his own miraculous escape only to bewail the fate of the little army whose hopes had once been so buoyant. He could hear the awful cries and moans of the wounded, the yells and shouts of the vic- _torious British and savages, and the thunderous | tramp of hoofs alorg the creek. But all sounds of the battle soon died away. Only the agoniz- ing groans without reminded him that the dreadful conflict through which he had so re- cently passed was a stern reality. The youth knew that he could not escape from his confinement before dark. He knew that _ the battlefield would be frequented throughout the whole day by the enemy in burying the | dead and caring for the wounded. His safety ‘lay in waiting the coming of night, and upon this he resolved at once, without a second thought. | tion. He spent the long hours of waiting in reflec- e epitomized all the events of the past | week, and recalled the faces that bad figured | sgt eit tt eC LLL LL LLL LC — thereiv. The noble face of Long Beard and the angelic Tempy stood out the most conspicuous. The hateful visages of Kirby Kale and Bill Mucklewee were the next most prominent, but the assurance that both these men were dead gave him relief. Then he recalled the events through which he had passed—his adventure in General Brock’s camp; his narrow escape at old Davy’s cabin; the battle; the first discharge of the American rifles; the groans of the dying; and that awful, awful look worn by the face of the color-bearer as he walked a lifeless corpse toward him! Old Davy did not escape his thoughts. He remembered the last words he had heard the veteran borderman utter as he went down in battle; and then he wondered if he had died, or had been tram to death beneath the feet of the victors and the horses. And last but not least, caine the sudden thought of Belshazzar. Where was he? his faithful companion of years? Had he been slain? or had he been lost in the rout? The last time he had remembered seeing him was a few moments before the battle opened, Thus musing, the hours wore away, and the first thing Harry knew he was growing sleepy. He had not slept for two or three nights. He had been kept awake by excitement and ac- tivity, and so he resolved to take a nap. Rest- ing his head upon his arm he soon became lost in the oblivion of sleep. When he awoke it seemed as though he had been sleeping a week. He knew however, that such could not be the case; but he was satisfied that hours had passed, and that it was then far in the night. He listened for some sound without, but not the slightest noise could be heard unless it was the soft, creeping ripple of the water in the creek. This sa m that the enemy had all retired from the battlefield, if not from the vicinity; and he at once began to entertain thoughts of attempting his release. But to his horror and surprise he heard a slight noise out- side just as he was about to begin operations. He listened closely, and discovered that some- thing or somebody was ws a ge the bank that covered him! He could netly hear a kind of scratching noise that w louder and louder each moment, and which left no doubt in the boy’s mind but that search was being made for him, either by a friend or foe, who had seen him fall and buried. : A horribie suspense tco’x possession of him. He remained quiet, listening with bated breath. A great lump came up in his throat when he felt icles of dirt crumbling down upon bim. It told him that the digger had made his way through the wall that separated him from the outer world. He could now see the open, starry sky through the hole made by the unknown. He could see a dark object near the opening outside, and could hear a noise like the low panting of an animal. He happened to think of his dog. In a low tone he called him by name. Instantly the dark object outside thrust itself into the hole and uttered a low whine. Harry’s beart gave a great bound, and he could scarcely suppress a cry of joy. It was his faithful friend, Rcahdamae: true enough, who by some unaccountable means had sought out his young master’s concealment. e youth soon enlarged the hole made by the dog sufficient for his y to through. Then he thrust his head and shoulders out and listened, at the same time caressing the dog. He heard a slow, measured more 4 on the opposite shore, and peering through the night he saw the outlines of a British sentinel pacing to and fro along the bank. By this he knew he was inside the enemy’s lines, unless they had changed their position south of the creek, and that great danger would attend his proposed attempt at escape. ; He knew the moon would soon be up, for it was already growing light in the east. He saw that that moment was the best to act, during Long Beard, the Giant Spy. the darkness which precedes the rising of the moon, and securing the English flag which he had captured in battle about his person, he crept out of his cell, and upon his hands and knees made his way to the water’s edge. He had decided to creep down the creek, wade where he could not crawl on hands and knees, and swim where he could not wade, believir g that the ripple of the water would drown all sounds he might mceke. Without a moment's hesitation he crept in- | to the water and began moving slowly down the stream, using bis utmost precaution. Success attended his efforts, and in less than an hour he had run the gantlet of the enemy’s icket and found himself safe beyond their ines. But again he found himself witbout gun or pistol, and he really felt that he was at the mercy of any foe. Still, he had his friend, Bel- shazzar, who was more than a match for any one man, and trusting to his keen instinct he pushed on down the creek. He had not gone over half a mile when the dog came toa sudden stop, and uttered a low, sniffing whine. Harry knew he had discover- ed something, and stopped. He heard a slight noise in the bushes before them, and a heavy sigh. The dog stood still, wagging his tail and with his nose pointed di- rectly ahead; and as Harry continued to listen, he heard that rt breathing of some one or something repeated. The lad began to think the matter over, and finally wondered if it could be some wounded soldier who had crept away unobserved from the battlefield and concealed himself there. He became so impressed with the belief that this was the case, as he thought the matter calmly over, that he could not think of leaving with- out knowing positively, and so, in a low tone, he asked: **Hullo! anybody in that thicket?” An almost deathly silence followed. It last- ed nearly a minute, when a voice in the thicket answered: ‘Speak ag’in, stranger; I sw’ar I b’lieve I war right.” ee a te were right, Davy. Come out,” r nded Harry, and the old trapper, weak and suffering from a terrible wound, staggered out of the thicket. CHAPTER XXXII A LONELY GRAVE IN THE FOREST. ‘LET me lean upon you, Harry; I’m weak —weaker than water,” said Davy Darrett, as he came out of the thicket and approached the yee t hel D "a lied th “Yes, let me help you, Davy,” replie e boy, ‘for I know you are badiy hurt. I saw you fall, and was afraid I would never see you again. ‘‘ Ah! that was a terrible battle, Harry, a terrible battle. Our men should never have left their intrenchments. I got a terrible blow, but it wasn’t balf as bad as some others got. Poor Iron Hand lay dying as I passed him. He reached out his hand, and said, ‘ Good-by Davy ;’ then he catched sight of my shattered arm, and continued: ‘ I'll tell ’emn you're comin’ soon.’ He knowed I couldn’t live.” ‘““My God, Davy! are you burt that bad?’ cried the boy. ‘*Hurt that bad? why, lad, Iam literally dy- ing by inches ” ‘Oh, no, Davy,” replied Harry, persistently, and with a tremor in his voice; ‘‘ you are not hurt that bad.” ** Well, I hope not, Harry; but don’t worry *hout me.” ‘‘Lean upon me heavier, Davy; don’t hesi- tate, for I am stout, you know. Let me help you to a place of greater security. The Indiens are no doubt scouting through the woods aifter stragglers, and they may find you.” ‘They have found me already, Harry, but I was dead then, Oh, but this is a cruel, cruel world, lad. Here I’ve fought along fifty years or more and have nothin’ to lose, and every- thing in the world to gain. I’ve seen but a few rene days in all these years. The outside world has been dull to me, in one sense, but in another I’ve made it lively. Ah, Harry I can go no furder! I must sit down and rest in this little glade. It would be a nice place for a grave, lad. **Oh, don’t don’t: give up, Davy—don’t say die!” pleaded the youth. They were now in the center of a little glade or natural opening in the dense woods. The moon was up, and her mellow rays fell full and bright upon the old man and boy. The latter started at sight of his companion’s terrible aspect. His face and body were cov- ered with coagulated blood. His eyes were bol- low and sunken. His left arm hung limp and lifeless at his side. “Davy!” cried Harry, ‘“‘ you are worse than you appear. You have been keeping the truth from me—where did all that blood come from on your face and breast?’ ‘From my arm, Harry, from my arm,” re- plied the old man, rather evasively; ‘* here— right here, let me sit down and rest, lad. ° | COMICDOO S.COmE | a