Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 183 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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~~ ~~ i= Gilbert, the Guide. 17 back and says: ‘Morena-no longer loves her red brothers, and has taken the hand of the stranger.’” ‘*Darromed must not go back with a lie in his mouth,” replied the maiden, angrily, ‘* Mo- rena has not forgotten the great tribe, and never will. They have been kind to her, they have loved her, and she will not forget them until sight and memory fail.” ‘‘ {tis well,” said Darromed, somewhat mol- lified. ‘‘ Then Morena will return to the great tribe and make them happy?” ‘* Where else can I find a refugeand a home?” answered Morena, sadly. ‘* With your tribe I must live, with your tribe I must die, forsake you it will be when the people no longer love me and refuse to listen to my voice. I will now bring food to you, as I promised,” She turned away, and the chief leaned against | a rock and conversed in low tones with Gande- lion. There was a subtle gleam in his eyes which the Englishman did not like, and could not fathom, and was too careless of consequences to try todoso. In a few moments Morena re- turned, carrying a roasted partridge wrapped in fragrant leaves and a bottle of choice wine. An Indian followed, bearing a basket of coarse food, which he gave to the chief, who took the a careful observation of his camp. When I | a ee ———E on my head be it!’ Let us go back to the old Mahornmedan motto, ‘ What will be will be.’” Little did he dream that the keen eye of Gil- bert was at that moment looking down upon him from bis eyrie among the rocks, and taking Gilbert would have made any use of the know!l- edge so gained, at this moment, for he partly | depended upon the young man to aid him in his search for Helen. lant over the idea of overlooking the camp of _his enemies from that secure position, and with the natural hate of an Irishman of the poorer class for anything English, vented his spite in The Irishman was jubi- words: ‘* Arrah, til the divil wid ye, an’ the likes av ye! Phat w’u’d I give to be among ye wid a shillalah in me fist? Whoop!” *‘Oh, keep still, you villain!” hissed the Guide. ‘‘Do you want to spoil all? Give an- other yell like that, and I'll break your head with the butt of my rifle. So beware!” CHAPTER XVI. A TRYING HOUR. MoRENA had not followed the trail of the chief a dozen yards from the brow of the hill ‘ Mr 4 Ul i 4 ~s UES . f eS We 3 : ~ J | ‘ in f Not that | | at Ce eee “‘T will hide myself here, and watch,” said the girl. ‘‘ If you need help, I will come,” He said no more, but, loosening his hatchet in his belt, he stole down the rocky path to the river-bed. When he reached it, he could find no trace of those he sought. The bare lime- stone rocks had left no trail; and those he sought were securely hidden somewhere near and, though where it was he could not think. He stole with light foot up and down the platform, looking on every side for some- thing which would Tete to him the hiding- place of the chief and his victim. The lime- stone walls mocked him with their rough and jagged surface; and, although be was certain that some one of these rocky points concealed the entrance to their covert, he could not find it, and dared not make noise enough to call the attention of Darromed to his presence. Just in front of him the river dropped over a ledge eight or ten feet high, forming a beautiful little fall, and from that point ran down toward the higher falls below. The Onondaga was puzzled, and furiously angry, as well. Where had his enemy hidden? If it had not been for Helen, be would have taunted him with his cowardice in hiding away from him, and perhaps by his irritating Sater “S SS WATERMAN DREW MORENA ASIDE, AND WHISPERED IN HER EAR THE HIDING-PLACE OF THE GIRL. food and wine from Morena’s hand, placed it in the basket, and stalked away as he had come, Scarcely was his form out o sight when Mo- rena, after a few hurried words with Gandelion, took up her rifle and followed him at a quick pace, but with so light a step that no sound could be heard. A forest life had made her a scout second to none, and the young leader looked after her beautiful figure with admiring eyes, "i Why do I hesitate?” he thought. “I have found here a woman beautiful and pure as an angel, and one who would love me truly and tenderly all my life. She is my ideal woman— the one of whom I have dreamed all my days, and yet I hesitate and draw back. Cursed be the social laws which divide like from like; cursed be that pride of rank which keeps me out of the light and makes me fear to do justice to myself and to her. The sweet child trusts me, in her purity and goodness, but at an impure look or word she would turn from me as from a serpent. despise myself if I did, and yet—my comrades! How they would laugh if they knew that Her- bert Gandelion, the pet of the British Grena- diers, the heir of proud estates, loved a maple Indian maiden in this way! Yet I would lay that man dead at my feet who dared to offer her an insult, and would sooner have her for my wife than any beauty I have ever met in my wandering and adventurous life. ‘ Bishmillah; Ne I dare not sp2ak that word; I should | when she was joined by the Onondaga, whose eyes were flashing with excitement, for an In- dian on the trail becomes a different being from the Indian in repose, and the young warrior’s mobile countenance lighted up and became full of intelligence.* They followed the trail to- gether up the shining river, for, though the chief had taken some pains to cover his trail, his disguise was nothing to the keen eyes of the Onondaga—up the river, with his eyes upon the ground and his hand ever upon a weapon, until they came at length toa place where a rocky path led down to the river’s edge, near the pence where they had seen Helen and Darro- med, ‘** You have done enough, woman of the great heart,” said the Onondaga, in a whisper. “Turn back and leave me to work my way into the den of the snake.” ** No, no,” said Morena. ‘‘I am not a cow- ard, and I will not turn back.” * Listen: it is not good that Darromed should know that you are his enemy,” said the Onon- daga. ‘‘What is it to me? I have left my tribe and wandered far from the graves of m fathers, and Captain George is chief on the soil which our father at Washington has given to the tribe in that land. They are happy, and work upon the land like white men. cannot do that, but Iam glad that my tribe will learn war no more. Go back and let me do the work to whieh I am called.” have induced him to leave his lair. But he knew enough of the sanguinary disposition of his enemy to be certain that he would destroy bis beautiful prisoner sooner than suffer ber to be taken away by her friends. After a little the Indian stole back to the place where he had left Morena, and called her. ‘*Go back on the trail,” he said, “and meet Gilbert and the rest. Say to them that they must come, for Darromed is too cunning for me, and dives like a mole into the earth. While you are gone I will watch, and if Dar- romed comes I will kill him as I would a dog, and then shall the white girl come forth, and you shall see her face, fair as the snow upon the hillsides when the winter is upon the earth. Go quickly and bid them come, and then we will find the maiden. And if, before you come again, it is my fate to fall, remember some- times the Onondaga, and that he was faithful to bis friends.” Morena gave him her hand with an impul- sive gesture; he pressed it slightly, and the next moment she was gone, vanishing up the rocky path, beside the Miami. Owasco found a covert among the rocks commanding a view of the platform below, and there he lay, silent and stern, waiting for the slightest motion upon the part of his enemy. As he lay there, he became conscious of a stir upon the other side of the stream, and then Indian after In- dian began to steal down the bank, until forty EGOmicbooks.Go