Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 148 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

A ———— scale upon which the sympathies of the white | blood was still vozing from a tiny bullet-hole in man hung in the coming struggle. How to avert a direct answer was now the question. A falsehood he knéw would only evoke suspicion on the part of his keen-sighted questioner, and an avowal of sympathies contrary to his own | might place his life, as well as that of Ethiope, | wa in imminent danger. ac. “How do you think my sympathies are, Gray Hawk?” he asked, ‘Don’t. think any thing—One Arm much | quiet—no fight-man—no talk much—ell still.” | “Then why not let me remain so?” the left breast across which the crimson tide left a dark, coagulated .track as it trickled down: But, the most astonishing of all, was the discovery that the dead Indian was the re- cent pow 3 at the cabin, Gray Hawk, the Ojib- c ! astening on to the cabin, Ethiope dashed into the presence of the scout, apparently ter- _rified by what he had seen. ‘“ Why, Ethiope, what does all this mean?’ ‘*Oh, my good Lor’ salvation, Mas’r Alf,” he cried, ‘I see’d as awfula sight as ebber I “Cause good heart in time of war help In- | seen in all my days.” dian heap much.” | “Then suppose I tell you I am neutral—that is, I will take no part on either side in the com- | ing war.” ‘White man jist like Indian. He can’t look with openeyes and not see when two deer be- fore him. Then if he want kill deer, he must decide clear before he shoot which one he want —he can’t kill both. Same with heart. He must take sides with Canada father or Yan- gese. ‘* What was it, Ethiope, what was it?” ‘‘ What wasit? Oh! oh! I tell ye Mas’r Alf, it war a dead Inging; an’ l’se jist gwine to pull up stakes and leave dis section ob de world and shin out fur P’int Michigan. 1 won’t lib bere and keep house for you a bit more.” a“ Why?’ **Ca’se de Spirit ob de Wilderness am about. He killed dat Inging.” ‘* Did you know the Indian?” “Know him? To be sure I knows him! He ‘‘T wish neither of them harm, Gray Hawk. | war dat conflumigated brat, Gray Hawk.” Both have been friends to me. I live upon the land of the Yankees, as you call my people, and | would it be right to steel my heart against | them?” The brow of the chief seemed to lower like a thunder-cloud. He saw that the Giant Scout had no desire to turn even in sympathy against his cy ok and the evil that arose in the In- dian’s heart could be Po aut traced upon bis broad, sensual face. The scout read it all, yet he permitted no look nor word to betray the emotions of fear it engendered. There was a brief silence, during which the scout saw Gray Hawk steal a quick, furtive mpc around him and at his warriors. Then e : ‘* Then I have One Arm’s answer?” “ Yes, I desire to remain neutral, Gray Hawk.” Without adding another word the chief arose, and calmly folding his blanket about his shoul- ders, turned, and with a sullen brow, walked out of the cabin and away into the forest, fol- lowed by his warriors, en they were out of sight and hearing, the scout turned to Ethiope and said: ‘**Ethiope, I am afraid we are in danger. That Indian means to do us some mischief, and I propose to follow him and see what course he pursues. ‘*Oh, my good salvation!” cried the African, “* whar’s to be the end ob all dis mortal distrac- tion? And you's I dng out, Mas’r Alf? Nowdo be keerful, boy, for if dem red-hearted niggers git hands on you, dey kill you in de slip-slapup- est way. The Giant Scout took his long, heavy cane from the corner where he had deposited it, and left the cabin. He entered the woods at a point oak opposite the course taken by the In- ans. It was all of an hour before he came back, but, when he did, his face wore an expression of relief, and his footstep was lighter. Enter- ing his cabin, he seated himself before a rude table, and taking the green leaves brought in by Ethiope, he carefully arranged them, one upon another, in a pile before him. This done, he took a sharp-pointed instrument, and pro- ceeded to puncture them, following a certain defined mark. When he had completed hls task, he emptied the previously filled basket of its contents, and threw the ctured leaves into it. Then turn- ing to Etbiope, he said: Ethiope, I wa:.t you t> go down to the river for another bucket of water. In dipping it up, ma to let these leaves float on the water sothat they will reach the current and be carried down the river.” Without a moment’s delay, the black man took the bucket and started for the river. His footsteps being quickened by some intuitive fear, he soon reached the stream,and having followed his master’s directions in regard to the leaves, filled his pail and started on his return to the cabin. While hurrying along, his mind filled with strange thoughts, his attention was suddenly arrested by sight of a trail where some heavy body bad been dra sedi: diese his path. The grass and leaves h dragged up, showing that it had been recently made, not, however, since the negro had the cae going down to theriver, for he saw where e had crossed it. Upon careful examination the darky, whose fears seemed to have given way to curiosity, began a careful examination of the trail, and found that it was stained here and there with clots of blood. This discovery brought the negro to a sudden halt, but per- mitting his eyes to follow onin the direction which he knew, by the trail, the body had been dragged, he saw where the trail ended, a sight that forced acry of horror from his lips. The body of an Indian was seated upon the ground, and leaning against the trunk of a tree in a romper, listless manner, which, of itself, told that he was dead. Growing still bolder through "He saw | now advanced to the —, He saw Ethiope that the Indian had been shot. e warm ‘‘Heavens!” exclaimed the Giant Scout, ‘Gray Hawk dead and so close to my home! Curse upon the Spirit of the Wilderness! It has placed its victim at my door, and_we’ll have to answer for it, Ethiope. Again I say, curses upon the Spirit of the Wilderness!” CHAPTER V. POINT MICHIGAN. AT the point where the Muskegon rs its waters into Lake Michigan, was located the lit- tle settlement known as Point Michigan, so called from its being situated upon a narrow point of land putting out into the lake. The place contained about a score of cabins, and numbered in ali about a hundred souls. The people were of various classes and nationalities en Be lee ae in hunting, trapping, and trading with the Indians and French iaps, There were, however, a few who tilled a few acres of ground in Indian corn, for which they found ready demand at home. At that time Point Michigan promised to be a place of great commercial interest at no dis- tant day, but in the midst of its p rity and infancy came the rumors of war with England. This, the settlers knew, would involve the In- dians in Canada and the adjacent co around, in the struggle against them; and that all effort to hold out against the foe would be madness bordering on criminality, they all felt. However, as the first rumor of war found its ori in no reliable quarter, the settlers of the Point entertained hopes of its only being one of those false alarms that ever and anon thrilled along the border, striking terror to every heart. It was near the close of the same day on which the events transpired at the cabin of One- Armed Alf, as narrated, that a little group of men were assembled on the banks of the river, near the aforesaid settlement, where they could command a view of the great lake, as it like a sea of molten silver, reflecting back the glorious light of the fast declining sun. They were rough, bearded men, dressed in rbs in keeping with the border, and made of Casket and linsey-woolsey. In spite of this rough exterior, however, there was a free, hon- est expression of the countenance that told of the trve goodness and great-heartedness of the inner man. They were not armed, yet all evinced no lit- tle fear and anxiety in regard to the matter — we will let their own conversation re- veal. ‘If the reports that have reached us are true,” said Jack Eller, a bluff, outspoken, odd war-dog of some sixty years, who had seen ac- tive service in the great struggle for American independence, ‘‘a messenger from one of the ex pints will soon jogging this way with news that'll confirm the story. And i dare say our friend, One-Armed Alf, will not be slow in scenting out the trail of the accursed hounds, and give ’em a taste of Brandy-wine; and I also think that if thar war any foundation in the reports, Alf would bave swung himself down here afore now.” ‘*Circumstances may prevent, friend Eller,” said a young man named Darcy Mayfield. “Oh, Pll warrant he’ll not stop for circum- stances. He'll manage some way or other to warn us of impendin’ danger as he has done in ther past. I know Alf, boys.” ‘*In case of actual war he might take sides with our enemies, Jack,” said a companion. ‘‘Bah, you scamp! If it wer’n’t you, Hugh Stoner, I'd hit youa diff for One-Armed Alf. No, sire, Muskegon’s water is toits source. A bigger and more loyal heart never pounded mortal man’s ribs. But if we are to have a war with the British and Injuns, they’ll find that old Jack Eller's blood of seventy-six is just as wild and hot as ever, and the sword I won at Brandy- wine ready to be buckled on. Or, if it need be, I can shoulder a musket, and rattle my old bones over into Canada to the tune of Yankee Stoner; he’s as true to us as the | Doodle, with the blithesome step of twenty “Hark!” suddenly cried young Horace Gas- kell; ‘‘ what was that?” ‘* What-was what?” interrogated Jack Eller. ‘** That noise; did you not hear it?” ‘* No, Gaskell; I heard nothin’. My hearin’ is the only faculty that ole time has duled: otherwise [’m springy as a young rooster of twenty. But what did you hear, Horace?’ ** A sound like the blast.of a horn.” ‘“‘T hope you're mistaken, Gaskell, for the sound of a horn at this. time would only bea confirmation of the rumors of war, and—ah, harkee, lads, harkee! there goes it ag’in.” . There was no mistaking the sound this time. All heard it distinctly. It was the far-off twang of a horn, borne faintly to their ears om the soft evening air. Aft first it appeared to come from the forest to the east of the village, but a repetition of the sound, which was more distinct than before, convinced them that it came from the lake to northward. With a keen glance the little group swept the placid bosom of the lake, but not an object: appeared upon it. There was, howevér, a headland on the opposite side of the river jut- ting out into the lake, which concealed a large: portion of the eastern shore from view, and if the sound came from the lake at all, it must. have come from behind this headland. That. this was in fact the case, there was not a single doubt leftin the minds of the bordermen when the horn again rung out, nearer and clearer than ever, and with such startling intonations as sent a thrill of terror through their forms. Without a moment hesitation old Jack EI- ler and Horace Gaskell sprung into a small canoe that lay upon the beach before them, and started across the river, to investigate the cause of the alarm, while the rest of the settlers hur- ried back to their cabins to put the village on its guard in case danger threatened them. It required but a few minutes for Eller and oung Gaskell to cross the river; and havin nded and secured their canoe, they burri around the point until they had gained an emi- nence from whence they could command am unobstructed view of the eastern shore of the lake as far — eye could reach; and they had scarcely taken in the grand spectacle that was set before them when an exclamation from Gaskell — Eller’s attention to a strange sight upon the lake. About a qeeeten of a league away to the northward, they beheld a tiny sail-boat comin — before the wind at a rapid , its ng rapidly accelerated by a pair of oars flashed in the setting sun, as they rose and fell like white, silvery w ngs. There was but a sin- le ee aboard the boat, and as near as ey could :judge he was a white man. But what appeared the most singular to our two friends was the presence of another craft of large dimensions, and flying the English colors at its mast-head, in hot it of the little sail-boat. It was more two miles away, et our friends could see that it was a British rig carrying several guns and a crew quite adequate for its management. | ‘““Ay! ay! that tells the story, Hor Gaskell,” exclaimed Old Jack. ‘That p’izen English flag: yonder, eo Michigan’s fair bosom, is all the evidence I want of there being war atween our nation and the English. ro | little craft contains a friend comin us of danger—ah! there goes that again — it came from the little a too. Let us make ourselves visible, Hor and it may give him courage.” So saying the two descended the headland from amid the shrubbery that crowned it, and stood upon the beach in plain view of both the little stranger and the English vessel, and waved their caps. Their ag aver appeared to be discovered at once by the fugitive, for he immediately waved his cap in response to our friends’ signal, then blew a shrill blast upon his horn. The next instant our friends’ attention was drawn to the English brig, by seeing a white cloud of smoke puff out from the prow of the vessel, then, as the sullen boom of a gun sent a echoes wre de the vibrant air, a cannon came skimming along the surfa of the lake and buried itself in the bank at bei feet, dashing up a cloud of dust and dirt in their very faces, ‘*Fire and blazes!” roared old Jack Eller, in a sudden fit of rage and excitement: “ that, Hor Gaskell, was intended as a salute for us. The bloody vampires! I’d give years of m life to board that ole scow at this minute wit twelve of the boys that fit with me at Brandy- wine. Oh, Hor Gaskell, how we'd make t rantin’ sinners blubber for mercy! But see!|— the little schooner is bearin’ down to’rds us now. Hurrah there, little boat,” he yelled at the top of his lungs, “‘ burrah, ye little tiger, you'll soon be in port. By St. Peter, Horace the little rip ‘s gainin’ on that English lubber!” ‘“‘Hasn’t the Englishman come to a dead stand?” asked youn skell. ‘* Believe it bas, M Judas,” ded Eller, shading his eyes with his open palm, and glan- cing steadily at the brig. I dare say, yon to warn. ‘Oh, ho! I see into cs COUMICG OOO) (E@)