Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 20 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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take up our trail. Do not let their war-par- ‘y out of sight. It is possible that 1 may require your help on the way; but till then do not show yourself; act with the greatest prudence, and before all try to keep your enemies in ignorance of your movements.” ‘* You have no other recommendations to give me ?”’ ‘* None; 80 retire; the Indians will svon wake up, and it would not be well for you if they surprised you.”’ ‘‘ I obey.” ** Above all, do what I told you.”’ ‘‘ That is agreed,’’ Red Cedar repeated. He glided into the gloom and disappeared among the tents. Curumilla was inclined to follow him and kill him as he fled; but after a short hesitation he allowed him to es- pe. ‘‘Itisnow your turn,” the Gazelle con- tinued, addressing Sandoval; ‘‘I have a ser- vice to ask of you.”’ ‘* A service, Nina; say ratheran order to me me; do you not know that lam happy please you in every thing ?”’ ‘‘T am aware of it, and feel grateful to you, Pedro; but this time what 1 have to ask of youis so important and so serious, that, in spite of myself, I hesitate to tell you what 1 expect from you.”’ ‘*Speak without fear, my child, and what- ever it may be, I swear to you to do it.” “Even if the life of a person were at stake ?’”’ she said, with a bright and fixed glance, resembling that of a wild beast. ? All the worse for him: I would kill ** Without hesitation ?”’ *‘Yes. Has any one insulted you, my child? if so, point him out to me, that you may be the sooner avenged.”’ ** What I would ask of you is worse than killing a man.”’ “IT do not understand you.”’ ‘* | wish—you understand me clearly, my dear Pedro?—I wish that on the road we should escape—”’ ‘** If itis only that, it is easy.”’ ‘* Perhaps so! but that is not all.’’ **T am listening.” ‘“ When we escape, you must carry off and take with us the girl to whom you intrusted me last evening.” . ‘What the deuce would you do with her?’ the Pirate exclaimed, astonished at this singular proposition, which he was far from expecting. ‘*That is my business,’’ the Gazelle an- swered, rudely. “Of course; still it seems to me—” ‘* After all, why should I not tell you? There is, I think, in a country a long dis- tance from here, a savage and ferocious race called the Sioux ?”’ ‘**' Yes, and they are precious scoundrels, I can assure you; but I do not see what con- nection there is—’’ “You shall see,’”’ she sharply interrupted him. “I wish that the rb you carry off to-morrow shall be handed over as a slave to the Sioux.”’ This arpeeiion was so monstrous, that Pedro gan oval could not refrain from 4 gienee of stupefaction at the young Span- ‘You have heaid me,” she continued. ‘Yes, but I should prefer killing her: it would be soener done, and the poor girl would suffer less.”’ | | ‘Ah, you pity her!’ she said with a de- moniac smiJe; ‘‘the fate I reserve for her, then, is very atrocious? Well, that is exact- ly what I want ; she must live and suffer for a long time.’’ $f r is woman must have terribly insulted ou. ‘More than I can tell you.” ‘‘ Reflect. on the horrible punishment to which you condemn her.”’ “All my reflections are made,” the girl replied in a sharp voice; ‘‘I insist on it.’ he Pirate hung his head silently. ‘“ Will you obey me ?”’ she asked, ‘‘T must, for am I not your slave ?”’ She smiled pron. ‘Take care, Nina! I know not what has happened between this girl and yourself, but I am conscious that yengeance often produces very bitter fruits. Perhaps you will repent hereafter what you do to-day.” ‘i What matter? I shall be avenged. That thought will render me strong, and give me the courage to suffer.” ‘‘Then, you are quite resolved ?” “«Trrevocably.”’ | **T will obey.” ‘¢ Thanks, my kind father,’’ she said, eager- ly; ‘‘ thanks for your devotion.”’ “Do not thank me,’’ the Pirate said, sad- ly; ‘‘ perhaps lhe will curse me some day.”’ ‘Oh, never!” ‘May heaven grant it!” With these words, the accomplices sepa- rated. Pedro re-entered th. tent allotted him, while the Gazelle rejoined Ellen, who wag The New York Library. still sleeping her untroubled, sleep, smiling at the pleasant dreams that lulled her. , Curumilla lay down again at the entrance of the lodge. CHAPTER XXVIL. SHAW. We have said that Dona Clara had disap- peared. At the moment when the struggle was most obstinate, Valentine, taking Dona Clara in his arms, leaped from the top uf the lodge on which he had hitherto been fight- ing, intrusted the maiden to Shaw, and rushed back into the fight at the head of the Comatches, who, recovering from the terro~ caused by the unforesven attack of their in placaole foes, the Apaches, gradually assem- bled to the powerful war-cry of their chief, Pethonista. ‘* Watch over her,’’ Valentine said to Red Cedar’s son; ‘‘ watch over her, and what- ever may happen, save her.”’ Shaw took the maiden in his powerful arms, threw her over his shoulder, and with flashing eye and quivering lip, he brandished his ax, that fearful squatter’s instrument he never laid aside, and rushed head-foremost among the Apaches, resolved to die or break the human barrier that rose menacingly be- fore him. Like a boar at bay, he dashed, madly for- ward, felling and trampling mercilessly on all who attempted to bar his progress. A living catapult, he advanced 09" by step over a pile of corpses, incessantly drop- ping his ax, e had only one thought left—to save Dona Clara or die! In vain did the Apaches collect around him; like an implacable reaper, he cut them down as ripe corn, while laughing that dry and hoarse grin, aneryous contraction which affects a man who has reached the last stage of rage or madness. In fact, at this moment, Shaw was no longer @ man, but a demon, Tramplin over the quivering bodies that fell beneath the terrible blows of his ax, feeling the body of her for whose safety he fought trembling on his shoulder, he struggled without stopping in his impossible task, but resolved to cut a hole, at all risks, through we human wall constantly arising before him. Shaw was a man of tried courage, long habituated to fighting, and pitiless to the red-skins. But alone, on this night, only illumined by the blood-red hue o7 the fire, aud confined in a fatal circle, he felt a great fear involuntarily coming over him; he breathed with difficulty, his teeth were clenched, an icy perspiration ran down his hody, and he felt on the point of succumb- ing. Falling would have been death. He would haye immediately disappeared under the avalanche of ferocious Indians yelling around him. This discouragement did not last so long as a lightning-flash. The young man, sustained by that hope which springs eternal in the human breast, as well as by his love for Dona Clara, pre- pared to continue the unequal contest. Bounding like a jaguar, he hurled himself into the thick of the tight. This contest of a single man against a swarm of enemies % something grand and startling about Shaw, as if under the influence of a hor- rible nightmare, struggled in vain against the igor wag | renewed cloud of foemen ; in him every feeling of self had vanished; he no longer reflected, his life had become entirely physical, his movements were auto- matic, his arms rose and fell with the rigid nog are of a pendulum. e had managed, without knowing how, to clear the fortifications of the village; at afew paces from him the Gila flowed silently on, and appeared to him in the moonlight like an immense silver ribbon. Could he reach the river, he was saved; but there isa limit which human strength, however great it may be, can not go beyond and Shaw felt that he was reaching this limit. He took an anxious glance around; Apa- ches hemmed him in on all sides! He uttered a sigh, for he thought that he was about to die. At this solemn moment, when all was about to fail him, a final shriek burst from his chest. A cry of agony and despair, of terrifying meaning, and reéchoed for a second far and wide, so that it drowned all the bat- tle sounds; 11 was the parting protest of a min who at length confesses himself con- quered by fatality, and who, before suc- cumbing, summons his fellow-men to his aid, or implores the succor of heaven. A cry answered his! Shaw, astonished, unable to count on a miracle as his friends were too far off and themselves too. busy to help him, fancied himself the victim of a dream or hallucina- tion; still, collecting all his strength, feeling hope well up again in his heart, he gave vent to a more startling shout than the former. “ Couragé !”’ Ps time it was not echo that answered m. Courage ! This word alone was borne on the wings of the wind, weak as a sigh, and, in spite of the horrible yells of the Apaches, was dis- tinctly heard by Shaw, In moments of frenzy, or when a man is at bay, the senses acquire a perfection for which it is impossible otherwise to acconnt, Like a giant, Shaw drew himself up, and seemed restored to that life which was on the point of leaving him. He redoubled his blows on his innumerable enemies, and at length succeeded in breaking through the barrier they opposed to him. . Several horsemen appeared galloping over the plain; shots illumined the darkness with their transient flash, and men, or rather demons, rushed suddenly on the throng of the Apaches, and commenced a frightful carnage. , The red-skins, surprised by their unex- pected attack, rushed toward the village, uttering yells of terror: their prey had es- ORee them. haw had fought bravely and firm as a rock to the last moment; but when his ene- mies disappeured, he sunk on the ground in a state of unconsciousness. How long did he remain in this state? he could not say; but when he recovered his senses it was night. He fancied at first, that only a few hours had elapsed since the ter- rible struggle he had undergone, and he looked inquiringly around him. He was ly- ing by a fire in the center of a clearing. ona Clara was a few paces from him, weak and pale as a specter. Shaw uttered a cry of surprise and terror on recognizing the men who surrounded him, and who had probably saved him by answering his final shout. They were his two brothers, Fray Am- brosio, Andres Garote, anda dozen gambusi- nos. By what strange accident had he re- joined his comrades at the moment when he had so great an interest in shunnio them ? . What evil chance had brought them across his path ? The young man let his head sink on bis chest, and fell into a sad and gloomy rey- erie. His comrades, lying like him by the fire, maintained the most obstinate silence, and did not seem at ail eager to cross-ques- tion him. We will take advantage of the momentary respite allowed Shaw, to explain what had taken place on the island since we quitted it to follow Dona Clara, Ellen, and the two Canadian hunters. Until sunrise no one perceived the flight of the girls. At breakfast, Nathan and Sutter, amazed at not seeing their sister appear, ventured on entering the hut of bAinotes that served as shelter to the two females, and then all was explained. They went in a furious rage to Fray Ambrosio to tell him what had happened, and the monk completed the news they gave him by announcing, oP turn, the flightof Eagle-wing, Dick and arry. The fury of the two brothers was un- bounded, and they proposed to raise the camp at once, and go in pursuit of the fugi- tives. Fray Ambrosio and his worthy friend Garote had infinite difficulty in making them understand that this would lead to no result; that, moreover, they had as guide an Indian snorsneny acquainted with the to- pography of the country, and the hiding- places, and that it would be folly to suppose that the persons who had escaped had not. so arranged their flight as to foil all at- tempts made to seize them again. Another and more powerful reason obliged them to remain on the island, to. which the squatter’s sons were compelled to yield. Red Cedar, on going away, ordered that. under no pretext should they quit the t he had selected ; he had moreover promised to join his band again there, and if they left it, it would be impossible for him to find. them, as he would not know in what diree- tion they had gone. The young men were forced to allow that: Fray Ambrosio was right; but, in order to- satisfy their conscience, they placed them-. selves at the head of a few resolute men, crossed the river, and beat up the neighbor. hood. We need ei say that they toun@ nothing, for, at about a league from the Gila,’ the traces were finally lost, i le RIRT.2 WD Oe: ane | 4 - * 4 + & ~ 2% rl > > Pas (7 ~