Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 148 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

—— ee Ea it now, Hor Gaskell; the wind has gone down all of a suddint, leaving the big lubber in the lurch. You can see their clouting sails hang limp as dish-rags. Yah! ha! ha! The En- glisher’s become becalmed, or else is afraid to venter nearer to ole Jack Eller, the hero of Brandywine!” There was some truth in Old Jack’s words... The English vessel had come to a dead stand. She had not taken in her sails, which was evi- dence of having been becalmed. The little fu- itive’s sail, however, had been lowered, but it ‘did not balt. The occupant plied the oars with renewed vigor, oe toward the two men on the bank. Five minutes more and the sharp prow of the curiously constructed bark touched the beach at their feet. The occupant of the craft wasa young man of about five and twenty years of age, and in general appearance he was a perfect type of i rie pn features were of ?* intel- tual mold, and quite pre ing. He was habited in the enitors of a captain of the United States Army, and his movements and bearing were those of a perfect soldier. In his belt he carried a brace of pistols, while at his side was suspended a coiled tin horn by means of a cord passing over his left shoulder. As he arose from his seat in the boat, he sa- Juted old Jack and young Gaskell, who returned the salutation. The young captain then step- ashore, saying as he did so: ‘“‘Have | the honor and pleasure of meeting a couple of Point Michigan settlers?” ** You have that, strauger. This lad is Horace ‘Gaskell and I am old Jack Eller.” ‘Are you Major Jack Eller?’ queried the stranger. “I sport that name, or used to, down East, soldier, having won it by hard knocks at Bran- dywine. Now what’s your handle?’ ‘‘T am Philip St. John, captain of the Michi- gan Rangers, and have come to Point ——on warn you settlers of a great danger that is hour thering around your settlement.” ‘‘ War, then, has beén declared between our country and England, sure enougb.”’ ‘* Yes; but how did you hear of it?” ‘* We’ve only had floatin’ rumors of it, Cap- tain St. John,” replied old Jack, familiarly; ‘‘but if you’d never come this way, captain that renegade cruiser yonder ’d ’a’ told the hull ‘* Yes; it is one of the proofs, friends,” re- plied the young soldier, ‘ that war between our country and England has been inaugurated. General Hull, with over two thousand men, in- vaded Canada nearly two weeks ago, but he has been compelled to withdraw his forces to Detroit, upon which the English army under General Brock is slowly but surely advancing. Mackinaw is hourly threatened, and God only knows how soon it may fall. The Indians have taken sides with the British, and the hor- rify news of murder and rapine will soon convulse the land. Messengers have been dis- patched to every garrison and settlement on the Michigan coast, and it was m especial dut to bring the sad news to Point Mich: , and hope you will lose no time in benefiting your- selves by it.” ‘‘God almighty bless you, Captain Phil; ole Jack Eller is not the man to let danger come upon his people unprepared. The taste that I got of British blood at Brandywine is still strong in my old spirit, and that time has toughened till I’m one of the gamest ole roosters thatever flopped wing or stuck spur. With ‘the weight of sixty years on my ole head, I could chaw a British dog up in the snap of yer eye; but Isay, Cap. St. John, that English cruiser give you a close rub.” “Yes; and but for the intervention of Pro- vidence in laying the wind, I would have been compelled to quit the lake and take to the “That’s a smackin’ little boat you've got thar, captain, I swow. Beats any ore L ever see’d plow Michigan waters; does it belong te you, Cap?” |. ‘I can’t say that it does, friend Eller,” re- peed young St. John. ‘‘ When I first took tothe ake, it was in an old Indian canoe, and it was not my intention to keep it longer than I. had rested from hard journeying on foot. But, in coasting along the eastern shore of the lake, 1 suddenly eames that boat drifting about ten- antless, at the will of the wind. Seeing it was supplied with mast and sail, and supposing that it had been deserted, I resolved to take posses- sion of it, reef sail, and conclude my journey by water. I had no sooner taken possession of the little schooner and got her under way than I discovered a British brig bearing hard down upon the wind toward me. A race at once be- gan, for I had determined to stick to the craft until the last, and for three long hours have we been running dead down on the wind.” While the young captain was narrating his adventure, Jack killer took the opportunity to examine the little craft. It was about fifteen feet in length, sharp at stem and stern, and pro- vided with a mainmast and sail. 1t was con- ‘structed upon an entirely new principle, and was agem of workmanship, such as old Jack dhad never before seen. It was provided with a | One-Armed. Alf. double pair of oars and extra canvas, and, | taken altogether, it was a strange-looking craft, having an air of neatnessand inviting comfort about it that puzzled Jack not a little as to who | its previous owners had been, and why it had been left to go adrift on the broad waters of Michigan, ‘*By Judas!” he finally exclaimed, as a thought forced itself upon him; ‘‘I sw’ar, it | looks like the Specter Skiff, captain!” ‘The Specter Skiff?” repeated St. John; “what is the Specter Skiff?” | ‘‘ Jist what its name implies. It’s a strange little sail-boat that is seen upon the bosom of | Michigan one minute, and the next it ar’n’t seen —it is gone. When I fust see’d you comin’ down | the wind, I thought it war the 8 r; but when I see’d a man into it iustead of a woman, then I knowed it wer’n’t the Spec.” ‘‘Then a woman mans the Specter Skiff, eh?” ‘*That’s what some say that’s been clus to her. They say she’s a perfect angel, too, with big black eyes and long golden bhair—a beauty anda poet in of the fust water. She’s called the Maid of Michigan, and some think that she’s the guardian angel of these waters, but it’s only the superstitious. Men that fit at Brandywine, like me, can’t be guiled in sicha way. Butsay Captain Philip, can’t you spend the night a Pint Michigan?” ‘*{ can not, Mr. Eller, I am sorry to say. I must lose no time in returning to Mackinaw. I see the wind is ris and shifting into the south. It’s already the south-south-east, and willsoon be square around. Then I can elude that British cruiser. The sun is already down, and there will be no moon until late to- night. I would like to go up the Muskegon and see One-Armed Alf, iant Scout, if I only bad the time. I am satisfied he has some news that would be worth carrying to the com- mandant, for I understood that he intended to gain an audience, at the risk of his life, to the great council of all the chiefs of the Peninsula os = and learn the result of the conference.” ‘** When was the council to be held?’ ‘“‘ A day or two ago.” ‘* Whar at?” ‘At some point in the forest east of the Ot- tawa village.” ‘* It’s the fust I heard of it. I presume the council war to decide whether or not they all take sides with the English in the war.” ‘Yes; the English were to have their Indian agent, Ensign Mackclogan, there to—” He did not finish thesentence. They were all standing with their backs to the lake, when a slight, unnatural sound, like the flap of a wing, caused them to turn suddenly toward the lake. A cry of surprise burst from every lip. ** By the blood spilt at Brandywine, Captain St. John, your craft is gone! Heaven and mys- teries! and it is the Specter Skiff, man! See! see!—don’t you see the Maid of Michigan at the helm? Age of mystery!” There was no denying old Jack’s word. The little boat was gone from its moorings, and with crowded sails, was seen scudding across the lake in a westerly course. Sure enough af the belm stood the form of a young girl, whose white face was turned toward our friends, and wreathed in a pleasant smile; while her great mournful eyes shone with the soft light of childish innocence. Her head was surmounted with a ecoronet of tiny shells and sparkling jewels, and from beneath this a wealth of golden air streamed in rippling masses about her white, snowy neck and shoulders.. She stood half concealed behind the bellying sail, and be- fore our friends could fully comprehend the state of things, the intervening distance blended the little sail-boat and its fair, strange occupant in one tiny white speck, as they sped onward over the broad bosom of Michigan, pursued by the English eruiser | CHAPTER VI. A STRANGE For a moment our three friends stood watch- ing the receding Specter Skiff and the pursuing Englishman, completely dumfounded. A deep hush reigned, which was not broken until dis- tance and the gathering shadows of evening had concealed the two boats from view; and then Captain St. John was the first to speak. * That must be your Specter Skiff, Mr. Eller,” he said. ‘*To be sure it is, captain. There is no other proof needed,” replied Eller. “Then I have been riding in the Specter Skiff, but I would take my oath of it, that there was no other living creature besides myself aboard the boat when I was. The girl must have been concealed in that shrubbery there, and stole aboard the craft while we stood with our backs to the lake, conversing.” ** But if she is a nymph or water-spirit, as the superstitious say she is, she could go and come unseen.” “She is no spirit, Mr. Eller, I assure you; but a real being in the flesh.” “It may be, captain; but, anyhow, wer’n’t the jade a perfect angel for slap-up beauty and heart-smashin’ loveliness?” ‘She appeared extremely handsome, Jack, and henceforth I shall have a longing desire to 5 know more about this Maid of Michigan.” ‘““Ay, ay, captain! .I see you have had a deep emotion areused in your breast by that strange girl; and I'll admit, if I wer’n’t an ole, broken-down war-hoss, with a hide too thick for Cupid’s darts, ’d prove a formidable rival of yourn in courtin’ that water-nympb. But then she’s gone and neither of us may ever see her again; so, what’s the use in tryin’ to bottle sun- shine and spend breath about ber? and as yer canoe’s gone, you mout as well step over to the P’int and spend the night. What say you, cap’n?” ‘Impossible, Mr. Eller. I must make m way back to Mackinaw, quick as possible. It is true the loss of the boat will compel me to make the journey on foot.” ‘“Not a bit of it, ‘n,” replied old Jack: ‘come and go over to the P’int and you shall have the fastest hoss in ole Jack Eller’s stable. Now come.” ‘*T declare, Mr. Eller, lam balf inclined to se, 8 your kind offer,” replied St. John. ‘Then come along without further words.” The young ranger turned and at once set off with Eller and young Gaskell toward the oint. In a few minutes they crossed the headland and reached the point where the canoe was moored. In ancther minute they were aboard the craft moving across the river. ‘** How far is it from here to the cabin of the famous scout and spy, One-Armed Alf?” asked Captain St. John w the boat was fairly un- ae Teo orthabe ghly onto that,” ‘Two or es, or nighly on replied old Jack. ‘* Why so?” Ly a pnt naw , Ima is ca His ser- i - itienen ¥ vices are needed : ‘Wal, it’s poy owe that he hasn’t got wind of the war, and if he has, it’s more singular that ro pe let us wer Must 4 : tered picts u way. at of the Woods gs around up that way and it may be he has sent Alf across the Jordan.” ‘That Spirit of the Woods is quite a f Eller—as much so as the 8 Skiff. would just as soon lay the whole thing to some yo Bem rp as any ope; or, to One-Armed i ‘ ‘* Ho! ho! cap’n, you couldn’t git that down me with a forty-foot pole. One-Armed Alf was uever known to carry as much as a pop-gun, let alone a rifle. Why, be couldn’t manage a rifle with one hand, for it takes a skillful man with two hands to shoot like that Spirit. Why, they say Alf oF tape pare a trigger in all his life. His hound and cane are his only companions when he’s out, and the red-skins won’t harm a hair of his head, for they think the Great Spirit made him without that arm that he might not lift it against him. Why, he’s been known to keep and doctor a sick or wounded Injun a month, and then send bim away with his best wishes, and that don’t look as though he war an Injun-slayer. Besides, none but Ojibwa warriors have ever been found with the bulle hole of the avenger upon their breasts; the Ojibs appear to be bis especial game. However, the Britishers may take a different view of One- Armed Alf’s peaceful habits, and send him to Canaan’s happy land. No, captain; the Spirit of the Woods is as tangled-up an affair as the Maid of Michigan, and, harkee, Captain Phil, ole Jack Eller’s word for it, you’ll find, some day, that the Spirit of the Woods and the Mai of Michigan are one !” ‘* What makes you believe so?” ‘The very fact that wherever a victim of the avenger is found, it is not over ten miles from the coast; and now, mark you, St. John, we'll soon hear of an Ojibway Injun bein’ found eee rh shot through the heart with a tiny et. ‘*[t would probably be a good thing if ever Indian on the Peninsula could be found ina like state, then the English would have no one to depend on in the coming struggle.” ‘** Wal, if war we must have, ole Jack Eller will make his mark, as he did at Brandywine, now mind—but say, Gaskell, jist hold up thar with yer paddle a little minute.” Horace Gaskell, who was paddling the canoe, at once complied with Ellar’s request, and the boat came to a stand. Both he and the young officer were about to inquire thecause of Eller’s sudden uest, “when they saw his eyes fixed upon a solitary green leaf floating on the sur- face of the river. Why such an insignificant object should hold the old borderman’s attention so closely, com- pletely puzzled his companions, and before either of them could make any inquiry into the \ matter, the leaf had floated within arm’slength ° of the canoe, and the old man reached out and picked itup. He then examined it closely and carefully, and his companions saw his eyes di- late, his lips part and his breath come quicker and hard, as though some terrible emotion con- vulsed his whole frame. “What now, Mr. Eller? what- now?’ ques- tioned the young captain. ‘‘ What now?’ the old frontiersman exclaim- ed, his face becoming set with a firm, rigid ex- Gomicdooks (E(0)