Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 183 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

12 LE se ee Owasco tugged away at the weighted rope but it was nothing to his strong and train muscles. He could feel that Gilbert was follow- ing the burden up the face of the cliff, for at times he lifted it so that there was compara- tively little strain upon the bark rope. A mo- ment of breathless suspense, and then Gilbert called out to him to make the rope fast. First the head of the Guide appeared, and then he stood upright, myer ge upon his brawny arm the senseless body of Helen Carlyon, white and still, with a little rill of blood trickling down her face from acutin her temple. Owasco darted forward and took her out of his arms, and the Guide clambered over the face of the cliff, eves he sat down pale and weak, weeping like a child. “‘There she is, the sweetest, the prettiest, the best girl in the territory, and now look at her. She’s dead. Look at her poor white face, and then tell me that she lives, if you dare!” ‘* Bring water,” said Owasco, quickly, bendin his ear close to the lips of the senseless girk ‘*Water, water!” Gilbert sprung up and ran down the slope to & little stream which flowed below, and brought back a canteen of water, with which they bathed the pale face. The color came slowly back, her breath fluttered and grew strong, and the beautiful eyes slowly opened. Gilbert ut- tered a cry of joy. ‘*She lives; Mather in Heaven, I thank Thee for it! My poor little pale flower, don’t try to speak or move, for you have not the strength.” Helen looked at them, recognized the two faces bending over her, and again fainted. Owasco said not a word, but his face beamed with unutterable joy, as he washed away the blood-stains from ber forehead and looked for the wound, and satisfied himself that it was but a slight one. Gilbert, unmanned by the sudden discovery he had made, was able to do little, but kneeled beside her, watching with frantic anxi- ety the efforts of Owasco to resuscitate her, which were at length successful, for with a gasping sigh, she suddenly opened ber eyes again and looked from face to facein a wan- at | unconscious way. ‘Where am I? what is this?” ‘* Safe, sweet girl; you are with friends, who will keep you safe, so do not suffer yourself to be uneasy, for you are hurt.” **Oh, the burning tree, the horrible beast, and the ghastly sight [saw! Save me, oh, save me! ‘You are in no danger,” repeated the Guide. ‘** Believe me that I would die to aid you, and that if any one does you an injury, it must be when this hand is cold and Owasco is gone.” “T will poy it,” replied Owasco, quietly. ‘* You shall see when the time comes which of us two will do the most to serve you.” They raised her and carried her down to the brink of the stream, and forming a shelter of branches, waited for her to recover strength. CHAPTER XI. THE GLADIATOR'S PRIZE. THEN she told them the story of that fearful night, the op = with the bear, the coming of the savages, down to that dreadful moment when the fight with the fire commencad, a more disheartening battle than the last. In the midst of that blinding cloud she was dimly con- scious that a rifle cracked outside, and then she heard the rush of hurrying feet. Still she hacked and hewed with the little ax, striving to cat away the hanging bark and trample out the sparks under her feet. But in spite of her al- most superhuman efforts, the fire ee way, ond she felt that she couid not much longer en- dureit. She was in an oven, the smoke thick- ening each moment, the heat becoming more and more intense, and the crack and roar of that devouring element sounding iu her ears. To die by fire! She had heard of such deaths amid the jeer- ing of savages and the demon dance of death, but this death alone, in the horrible tomb, over- came her resolution to meet it rather than face the eeyeeet, and, throwing aside the ax, she stooped low and darted through the flaming portal. Her garments were in flames, but she extinguished them quickly and looked about her, expecting every moment to be seized upon by the Indians, but to her utter surprise she found herself alone. No, not quite alone, for there, upon the n of the little grr lay the body of an Indian, shot through the ‘heart. This man had in some way aroused the ire of the chief anil bad met his death by the rifle, and it was his bones over which those un- availing tears had been shed, She did not pause to decide what course to take, but fled away into the darkness, only seek- ing to get as far as peng from the Wyandots. With torn and bleeding feet, with flesh smart- ing from burns received in the tree, she stag- ker. on for hours in the trackless wild, eagerly onging to find water to cool her parched tongue. She would bave made for the river, but feared that the savages would take her risoner. Torn by briers, bruised by stones and nots, weary and almost wishing for death, she was gladdened at last by coming to the edge of a swale, full of brackish water, which she drank Gilbert, the Guide. as eagerly as if it were nectar, and bathed her scorched and blistered hands in it, until the pain was somewhat allayed. Then she scraped together a pile of leaves and lay down to rest, and slept for hours, unconscious, and indeed caring little for her danger from savages or beasts. It was not quite light when she awoke and went on her way aimlessly, knowing nothing of ber position, for she was lost—lost in the great forest. This child of tender nurture, to whom her father had been so kind that he ‘‘ would not permit the winds of summer to visit her too roughly,” with burned hands and bleeding feet, wandering alone and unaided in that vast soli- tude! The rabbit peeped out at her from his cover as she passed; the partridge ran clucking away; the nimble squirrel lea to the top of a lofty tree and chattered down at her, while a reat owl, with —— eyes and broad face, fooked down at her from a branch which stretched across her way. She sat down to restand think of her position. The forest was so thick about ber that, although she knew it must be nearly sunrise, she could not see the sun to make it her guide. She rose again and wandered on, longing for food, and thinking what her fate might be, if she died in that solitude. Perhaps some hunter, or an In- dian warrior, traversing the region, would find her bones, where she must lay her down to die, and wonder to what manner of person they be- longed. A low scratching sound above her caused her to raise her head, and, glancing quickly upward, she saw something which seemed to curdle the very blood in her veins. <A great tree stretched astrong limb outward, and lying prone upon this limb, with gleaming eyes and waving tail, she saw that terror of the American forest, the panther. Not one of the dwarfed and stunted specimens we sometimes see in our menageries but a powerful brute, well worthy to be ranke with his Asiatic sister, the tiger of Bengal. The long, lithe, hairy body lay motionless upon the limb, the only parts which moved being his tail, which was waving gently to and fro, and his eyes, which seemed to change from green to ellow, and then to burning red. Helen forgot in a moment, in her present danger, that she was hungry, wounded, and weary, as her fasci- nated eyes lingered upon the changing orbs of the panther, who from time to time set his claws into the bark of the tree, causing the grating sound which had first drawn her attention. ‘* Would he spring at her?’ She found herself repeating this question over and over again, and in utter despair she thought of the remaining pistol which Water- man had given her. Hidden in her robe, it had luckily escaped the fire, and she drewit out and looked at the priming, giving it a little pat as she did so, as Waterman had taught her to do, in order to prime it. As she did that, the panther gave a low snarl and half arose upon the bough, and sighting him hastily, she fired. There was a wild scream, and the huge body of the panther struck her, and she was conscious of a terrible fall, a shock, and then remembered little more—until she saw the kind faces of Owasco and the Guide bending over her. She had been standing, unconscious of the fact, very near the brink of the chasm into which the Guide had descended to find her, and when the ‘panther leaped, they fell into the chasm together, and the huge beast first. He fell across a auee stone, and his neck was bro- ken, and upon this great cushion Helen struck, receiving but slight injury, although she faint- ed. When she came to her senses, she lay across the body of the panther with her head bleeding from a cut she had received. Then she lost con- sciousness again, and when she woke the scout had dragged her out of the deep pit, and she was among friends, , The two men listened to her story with ill- concealed grief at the sad time the poor girl had = tn and interrupted her from time to — y exclamations of wonder or commisera- tion. “A terrible night and day you have passed my poor child,” said the Guide, ‘‘and now doubt whether you are strong enough to beara journey to the army. It is more than ten miles, if you could go the way we must, but the river is best, if we only dared rd it.” ‘‘No,” said Owasco. ‘The Pale Flower must go with us, but we cannot go by the river. Dar- romed is there with his men and he longs for our blood in revenge for what we have done.” At this moment a plumed bead was lifted for a moment from the bushes and peered out at them, and then it was lost to sight as the owner lay flat en the earth, watching them eagerly. Luckily t ey spoke in English and he could un- derstand little except by their gestures. ‘* How can she go, Owasco?” said the Guide, reprovingly. ‘‘ You know as well as I do that the poor child’s feet are torn and bleeding, and that she cannot walk ten miles through the for- “No,” said Owasco. ‘ Can’t walk, but look; strong arms, you got strong arms; carry er. “‘That’s something like it,” rejoined Gilbert, — beginning to smile. ‘“‘I thought you'd get to the right idea after awhile, Owasco. 6 can make a litter and carry her, and so we will But oe you think of a better plan than that?’ *No “Then I can,” said Gilbert. ‘‘ What do you say to the cave at the bend, which only you and I know? We might take her there and leave her, and then = for the a and bring up enough force after her to scare all the Wyandots out of the country.” ‘*Good!” said Owasco. ‘Gilbert is very if we will eo yor uddenly he ceased talking and his eyes began to blaze. These two men had lemon the woods so long together that they knew bya motion of the finger when danger was near, and, unperceived, the chief had given his com- panion asign. It meant, ‘* Look out; rhymin watching.” Owasco kept up an idle and desul- tory chatter, all the time keeping his eye upon the bush and getting nearer to it, when his body suddenly rose into the air and lighted upon the back of the croucbing ——- who was no other than Darromed, who had been trailing his game. He uttered a yell of surprise and bound- ed to his feet, shaking off the grasp of his as- sailant and ee knife and hatchet from its sheath. The Onondaga was similarly armed, for in the last few hours of desperate marching and fighting he had lost his rifle. The two glowered at each other with savage eyes, the muscles on their strong brown arms swelling as they grasped their weapons. “Ha, dog of a Wyandot!” screamed Owasco, shaking bis keen hatchet inthe air. ‘ At last we meet with weapons in our hands. Dog and spy, defend your life!” he two closed together eagerly, for Darro- med was noways loth to join battle with a man of the known reputation of the Onondaga. No one, ignorant of the perfection to which such men advance their skill in the use of their favor- ite weapons, can imagine how Gesperate was the conflict. The knife was a shield as well as a weapon of offense, and blow after blow was turned harmlessly aside on either side. With stroke and thrust, hand to hand and foot to foot, they struggled for the mastery. Darromed had received a flesh-wound in the right hip, and the left wrist of Owasco had been slashed by the knife, yet these slight wounds only seemed to arouse their native fierceness to its utmost. Helen started up, and Gilbert looked in vain for a weapon, but all had been taken from bim by Darromed when he was at the stake, and he was ey tees unarmed. Not that he feared to trust Owasco with the savage opponent, but he feared that the chief would escape, and he had never had so good an aay . Snatch- ing Ae a heavy club which lay at his feet, he dar in, but an angry cry from Owasco re- strained him. ‘* What would you have?’ he cried. “I will hunt this dog to earth, and I need no help.” ‘‘But he must not escape,” said the Guide, sternly. “If he does, youand I are parted from that hour, for I hold ‘that man my enemy who comes between me and my revenge.” ‘He shall not escape,” replied Owasco, parry- ing a desperate thrust —- the part of the wild savage and returning it by a blow of the hatchet which staggered the furious chief. Then he rushed in, and the fierce battle became closer and more desperate. Inch by inch he forced the Wyandot back, contesting his ground stubbornly, and fighting off his fate with des- —— strength and courage. In that tryin our the chief well maintained his hard-earn reputation as bravest of the W yandots, in hold- ing his own so long against his agile and iron- muscled antagonist. But he was failing fast, and his great agony at the thought was written in living lines upon his stern face. ‘“‘Vield to me, Darromed!” cried Owasco. ‘You have done well, but you are mine, and you know it.” ‘Not yet!” hissed the W yandot. “Then thus I win you,” said the Onondaga, making a thrust with his knife at the same mo- ment that his tomahawk alighted upon the feathered crest of the chief. e staggered and fell prone upon the earth, his weapons dropping out of his hand, while Owasco s with his foot upon bis breast, and his hand lifted in a heroic attitude. ‘*Ah-ha!” he cried. ‘‘ Who is like Owasco in the day of his wrath, when the arrows of ven- geance fly, and the hatchet is dug from the earth? He is chief of his tribe, and the sound of bis tread is like the rushing of the thunder.’”” A strange trait in the Indian is this, that he must boast of his deeds. Owasco was as free from this weakness as any man of bis race, but in an excitement like the present, he would brag like a born Yankee, and Helen, excited as she was by the combat, could not help smiling at his words. wasco Face to bind his enemy with strong buckskin bands, and soon completed his task. When done, he took up his enemy by the head and signaled the Guide to take his feet, and they went down the path beside the silent river among the huge rocks with which nature has so burdened the section about the Miami rapids. They stopped'in a rocky defile, and the EOmiiGpoooks id (ECO) f