Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 183 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

— = _— ae ag ee ie ae ato — ¢ _ aE . % ‘the forest pa — ae lt — _ ———— = = =o 2 - a mee ——_— —<- ‘¢ After we are married, certainly.” ‘“‘Do you intend to have a marriage per- formed here?” “Certainly. We happen to have in the per yo enn village an English chaplain, who wi do the work effectually. Do you con- sent. ‘*Return me to my friends, and then I will give you my answer.” “No, thank you; I prefer a bird in the hand. You will not leave this place until we are married. lam going to the mainland now, and shall return in a day or two with the chaplain Il spoke of, and in the mean time you must make up your mind to submit, for I may take it into my head to marry you, even without your consent. Pat, come this way.” Pat, with a comical leer at Helen, which almost made her smile in the midst of her trouble, followed his master aside. “IT have told you what I expect you to do,” explained McKay. ‘‘ You are to watch Miss Carlyon, and see that she does not get away from the island. If, unfortunately for you, she should do so, you may as well drown yourself before my return.” “T’ll not let her get away, masther dear,” declared Pat. ‘* Sure the bloody spalpeen don’t know phat’s good for her, or she’d be willin’ to marry the likes av ye. Deed an’a bad world we live in, masther.’ “That willdo. I don’t care about any more blarney, if you please. Now then, Malotta, get out the canoe. But first, whistle for Mera. n the whole, I don’t think I had better trust friend Pat.” The Indian raised a reed call to his lips and blew a shrill note. He had no sooner done so, than an Indian woman pushed her way from a forest path in their rear and came toward them—a perfect old witch, with grinning mouth, serrated teeth and glittering eyes. “Take care of that girl, Mera,” said McKay; **sea that she don’t get away.” Mera pounced Poco Helen like a kite upon its prey, and sei her savagely by the.arm. Helen uttered a low scream. “Take care, you red hag!” shouted McKay, savagely. ‘‘I did not tell you to grapple her in that way. You can take care of her without that I should say.” Without y; Mera dragged Helen down , closely followed by Pat, whose fingers itched to seize the old hag by the throat and choke her life out. He might have done so, but that he knew by the light steps behind him that a partof McKay’s men were ollowing bim. ‘* Ah, you ould beauty!” he muttered, ‘ Give me a chance at ye, that’s all I ask.” In the center of the little woods a cabin had been built, and into this the hag pushed Helen, muttering fiercely? Pat would have gone into the hut after them, but the door was shut in his face, promptly, and he stood swearing on threshold. the The at bye 4 me one rent a and green, an evident n kept w Se care. Handy Pat ef down and whistled “Garryowen,” looking keenly at the Four Wy- andots who had remained behind. ‘Fine lot of b’yes ye are, anyhow,” he said, slowly, in his horrible English. “I’m right glad to mate ye.” The effect of this h was somewhat weak- ened from the fact that neither of the Indians understood a word of English, *‘Have ye any tobaccy about ye, my lads?” he continued. Tbe Indians looked puzzled. “TY tobacky; sorra til ye, an’ til the likes av ye, I want some tobacky.” - The leading Indian shook his head, and Pat went through a lively pantomime expressive of sod — and Sienifying tae = a ee minutive clay pi gnifyin at he desired a smoke. The Indions unders this, and one of them, more generous than the rest, furnished him with a supply of the fragrant weed, when he filled his pipe, lighted it by means of a flint and steel, and smoked tranquilly, blinking slow- _ ly at the Indians through the smoke. Evening came on, and the Indians, leaving one of their number as a guard, wrapped them- selves in their blankets and lay down before the door of the cabin. Pat smoked away peace- fully, paying little attention to them until he became tired, when he began to yawn. ‘‘Tt’s slaapy | am, thin,” he said, “* powerful slaupy. Couldn’t oy show me where I’d find a bed, mesther Injin?” The savage shook his head; and Pat, after a fruitless attempt to make him understand, rolled over on the grass and fell asleep. When he awoke the Indians were up, smoking their pipes, and one of them offered him a handful of parched corn. With a wry face over the unsavory repast, the Irishman quickly swal- lowed it, and begging a further supply of to- bacco, lighted his pipe and strolled down to the water’s edge overlooking the mainland. The bay was as tranquil as a pond, and near at hand he saw two canoes, close together, rapidly approaching the island, in the fore- most of which he saw the upright form of the Wyandot, Darromed, and in the next McKay. ‘“‘Ochone!” he said. ‘‘ It’s throuble I see be- CES “ars ae i> eb re SSS - — ee te > o Gilbert, the Guide. fore me darlint misthress. But wait; Handy Pat will lay down his life, an’ welcome, sooner than see her come to harm.” —_-_—----—_ CHAPTER XXIV, AN INTERRUPTED BRIDAL. SEVEN I dians landed, accompanied by a red-faced, puffy, wind-broken man, with the air of a drunken butcher, but who was in reality a cashiered chapiain, formerly attached to one of his majesty’s regiments, but who had since cast his lot among the Indians. He was cracking anything except polished jokes with McKay, who was in excellent humor, while Darromed looked on with stolid, impassible looks. “What is that away to the south?” asked McKay, pointing down the bay. ‘It looks to me like a sail.” ‘It is!” Darromed answered. “Tt looks some like the little schooner Herbert Gandelion kept near Fort Miami. 1 bope he won’t get wind of this affair, for if he does, with his high-spiced notions of rigid morality, he will be sure to interfere. 1 think we had better get this job doue at once, Frisbee.” ‘‘l'm ready,” admitted the chaplain. “I hope she won’t squall and make a fuss.” ar ‘‘ What is that to you? I don’t suppose if is any bu iness of any one except the girl and myself.” ‘Ob, that’s all right. course, bat don’t blame me for it if you make a mess of it, as like enough you will do. I’m an odd kiad of chicken, at least so the Bishop thought, or he wouldn’t have sent me out here. Where is the girl?” “*Waiting in the cabin,” responded McKay, ‘Cin eager expectation of the happy hour.” ‘‘Oh, none of that, colonel. You'll make me laugh if you keep on. The schooner is rising fast.” Indeed the white speck on the horizon was coming up rapidly,and evidently headed directly for the island, asif they knew precisely where to come. “They act.as if they knew what they were about,” remarked McKay. ‘“ Let us get to work, and when I am married they may come as soon as they like. I’ve an account to settle with my very good friend Herbert Gandelion, and it may as well be settled now as at another time.’ “What do you want to marry this forest beauty for, colonel?” ‘Because my friend Darromed has told me something which makes it worth my while. Come on.” They hurried up the path toward the cabin, and knocked at the door. The Indian hag threw it open, texto on what she intended for a smile as she saw McKay, but which had more the ap rance of a fiendish grin. -" hero la she?” demanded McKay. Mera poirited to a door upon the other side of the room, and McKay rapped upou it, but no answer was returned, ‘*T wish to see you,” said the colonel. ‘It will be better for you to come out at once.” “YT shall do nothing of the kind, Colonel McKay,” said a quiet voice within, “and I warn you, as you value your own personal safety, not to attempt to open that door,” ‘Do you refuse to come out?” ‘Certainly, colonel, I refuse to come out.” ‘“‘Then IL will break down the door,” roared McKay. “You may do so, but the first man who crosses the threshold I will stab to the heart, as surely as my name is Helen Carlyon. Villain, do you think I will yield tamely to be made your victim? Not while I can hold a weapon.” ‘Bring an ax bere,” cried McKay. ‘I will break in the door.” An ax was brought, and one or two strokes drove the light door from its leathern hinges, and revealed Helen, standing about a pace from the doorway, with the dagger with which she had before threatened the colonel raised above her head, There was something in ber attitude which showed the man that she erm intended to use ack knife, if he should be f enough to approac “This is ‘all nonsense, Helen,” expostulated the colonel, beginning to temporize. You ought to know that resistance upon your part is worse than useless.” “JT will keep my honor pure, even though I lose my life, you dastard. Stand back, for I am in that humor at this moment which will not brook an insult.” “ Down with the knife, I say!” “Not I! Touch me at your peril.” McKay, white with rage, stood glaring at the resolute girl. He knew that each moment the schooner of Gandelion was drawing nearer and nearer to the island, probably bringing force enough to overpower his Indians. ‘* Let me shoot her,” hissed Darromed. ‘‘ She is mad, and deserves death.” ‘Will ye, ye dirthy hound?’ roared Pat, knocking him down with his clinched hand, and springing to the side of his mistress. ‘‘ Ne- ver you fear, Miss Helen; while there’s life in I'll marry you, of - = oe his ere Handy Pat O'Driscoll will stand by oop! rose, and poised his hatchet, while he sprung over the shattered door. Pat caught up one of the bars which had kept the door fast, and met his attack bravely, knocking him back several feet. Darromed threw his hatchet as he reeled backward, but bis aim was wild, and Pat easily eluded it. None of the savages had come up with the exception of Darromed, and only three men faced the hardy Irishman and one of these was a non-combatant. McKay, with a wicked smile, drew a pistol from bis belt and leveled it at Pat, but Helen threw herself before bim. ‘‘ Out of the way, girl!” cried the angry colo- nel, ‘I tell you that he is doomed.” ‘Fire if you dare!” replied Helen. At this moment the clash of arms and wild shouts upon the beach announced a combat, and forgetting in a moment the Irishman, Dar- romed rushed out to aid his men. He found them engaged in a deadly conflict witb Gilbert, the Guide, Owasco, and Clinton Waterman, who had crept up from the other end of the island, where they had landed during the night guided by Morena, ‘ ‘‘A thousand curses on that girl!” screamed McKay. “She has betrayed me, Down with them, men; they deserve to die!” Eighteen men to three is Jong odds, and these brave men knew it. But four of the Indians already lay dead or wounded on the sod, and high upon a solitary tree near the southern shore flaunted a white sign2l, direct- ing the course of the approaching schooner, which could be seen close at hand, coming down upon the island witb outspread wings, her little brass howitzers gleaming upon the deck. The three desperate men had taken a sition in a bit of timber difficult to approach. ‘hey were well armed, for the night before, in passing the village, Morena had paused long enough to get weapons and ammunition for the chief and Waterman. . Lying half-hidden by the bushes, they loaded and fired rapidly, making fearful havoc in the ranks of their as- sailants. ‘* Gather your men and make a rush at them, Darromed)” ordered McKay. ‘‘ We must beat them before that schooner reaches the island.” Darromed gave a si call, and at the sound a number of dark forms could be seem gliding swiftly through the thicket toward.the three brave men. bree rifles cracked, and then they rose with knife and hatchet and waited. Owasco singled out Darromed, and the two closed, while fierce yells went up to the summer sky. A reinforcement came, Handy Pat. shakin over his head the sprig of shillalah with whic he bad beaten down Darromed, came rushing to their aid, and at the same moment the scbooner fired her howitzer through the upper branches of the trees, scattering them in all directions. This was more than the Indians— proverbially fearful of artillery—could bear, and they ran for dear life, leav the white men masters of the field. One id not fiy with the rest, and that one was Darromed, who lay upon the trampled sod, bleeding his life away through a fearful wound in his chest, while above him stood the Onondaga, looking down upon him with a cold proud air, ‘‘T spared him once,” be said, “‘ and the same day he left me a prey to the le. Now he lies there, and I swore to give him as low a bed as mine was.” ‘Darromed,” said the Guide, bending over bim, ‘‘ you and I bave been enemies, and you know with how cause, Years ago you robbed me of all that made life dear, and I have never forgotten nor forgiven. You are about to die, and if you have anything to tell ne Oe Eee ee eid the W will no , rep e and ‘‘ Ah-ha! Even in death I triumph Rictippreme n- die happy. You shall never know, and it will wring your beart to the last,” At this moment the light schooner swept up to the bank, and an active figure bounded out. and threw a line over the stum Waterman was ate | gone, guided by the vichman, and Morena, who had been standing in the thicket, just behind the white men, had come out upon the shore. The schooner was full of men, most. of them wearing the uniform of Wayne's Legion, and near the little cabin stood a lad closely vailed, with Gandelion by her side. ‘There she is, dear cousin,” said Gandelion, eagerly, ‘She aig teh: ene: The lady gave him her hand, and they ste ashore and walked slowly to the side o a dying chief. | yt Morena!” gasped the Wyandot, come to me 1”? The forest queen bounded to his side and. knelt upon the sod, ‘‘Can I do anything for you, chief? You have been very kind to me,” ‘What should you do?” replied the Wyandot, ‘‘Tam going tothe happy-hunting ground, to chase the deer forever beside the flowing river. You are left alone, and the power of the great nation is broken. Have you left them to go back to them no more?” Y> O)ONO) Connie S