Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 202 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

‘ 2 Cactus Jack, THE GIANT GUIDE; ? The Masked Robbers of Black Bend. A Story of New Mexico. BY CAPTAIN. MARK WILTON, AUTHOR OF ‘“‘THE LADY JAGUAR,” ETC., ETO, f CHAPTER I, THE BARRANCA OF DEATH. Hotty pursued, yet bravely defiant, two white men were riding across a wide plain of New Mexico with a score of Apache Indians speeding in their rear. The plain was no more than a desert, and at each step the blood-bay horses of the foremost men sunk ankle-deep in sidan aha but <— h vag gallantt was on their si they were ng ntly. Comidécicie the locality, the scene was not a strange one, for it was where the red-handed savages roam rough-shod and make war on whoever crosses their path, but the resolute front of these stout white men showed that they had little awe or fear for the red war- riors. . Americans born and bred were they, if ap- pearances went for anything, and they had every sign that goes to mark the veteran bor- derman. ’“ How many bullets left, Boze?’ one of the two suddenly demanded. ‘‘ Six,” was the terse reply. ** And I have four.” ‘*Tt’s durned bard luck,” muttered Boze, dis- consolately. ‘Hard! It’s worse than that—it’s infernal tough. Here we are, old bordermen and dead shots, running like prairie dogs from them red heathen, and all because our bullets are used up. . hang the miserable, sneaking, one-horse uck! “Take et cool, Cactus Jack; take et cool, boyee. Wekain’t change ther sarcumstances, an’ we orter be thankful our good hosses kin take us safet away. Tbem bucks ride proper fast, but ef we say ther word, these beauties | will soon leave ’em.”’ He patted the neck of his horse as he spoke. ‘‘The horses are all right; they are rattlers; but that’s just why I hate to heat them up to oblige a mess of dirty ’Paches. [’m going to —_ another.” e wheeled in his saddle, firing so quickly that he seemed to take no aim, but at the crack a grim warrior went down out of his saddle. ‘ Another down,” he shouted, boisterously. “¢ An’ one bullet ther less,” Boze tersely said. “Only nine left!” groaned Cactus Jack, ‘‘Never mind, though, old man; let's have a picnic while we can. Wheel and fire, you mountain tiger.” Boze hesitated; but, yielding to the impulse, obeyed the request, and another Apache was left on the sand. ‘‘ Hal ha!” laughed Jack, “‘ we ain’t no chicks with the shooting-irons. Look at the weapons those dogs carry. We ars as safe at this dis- tance as though ten miles away. Let’s fire Dn *eThey acted on the suggestion, and each drop- ped his man. ‘This won’t do,” said Bozo, quickly. ‘We have only six bullets left, an if we— He paused as Cactus Jack, ‘iaving hastily re- loaded, added one more to the red line of dead men on the a, and then Jiis companion sbut his jaws with a snap. ** Five bullets lett! We must stop,” he ad- mitted. ‘Oh! ’d give :, square million to have my ockets ‘ull of ler.d now.”, ‘An’ [reckon them reds we dropped would ave es nuch ef t iey had et ter get rid o’ what they he7,” Boze pr nly observed, | alf a mile ther they went, and then Cactus Jack sudde Vy pulled in his horse and pointed to the rear. !lo added a shout of joy, and even Boze grew exultant, for the Apaches had ceased pursuit, and wore ng back. The chase had been abandoned. The white men were pleased, but it was not wise to tarry there; so they spoke again to their horses, and rode on at a leisurely pace. fun they go, let us introduce them more y: Cactus Jack was a young man, less than thirty, but he had the reputation of being one of the best bordermen in the Southwest, More than once he had served as a Government e, and always to his credit; and as a scout, unter, and mustanger, be had few superiors. He was almost a glass in size. standing over six feet, and measuring equally well in other re- spects; but one glance at his face, which was smooth and boyish, would show that his strength would never be used in a brutal way. Men liked the giant guide, and they had good reason. Honest, faithful, good-natured, saga- | i cious and bold as a borderer—he possessed all the qualities that go to make the true man. Zeke Bozeman was twenty years his senior, a grizzled, resolute-looking man, not so tall as Jack, but with a breadth of shoulders and chest that indicated great muscular power. His real name was known only to himself, that by which he was called having been gained by some he- roic exploit at Bozeman Pass, up in Montana, a country in which he flourished exclusively un- til he came South, fell in with Cactus Jack, and so began a friendship which never wavered. Veterans were they in the fullest sense of the Cactus Jack, the Giant Guide. EEE — EO ———— the southwest plain, for many of them are so unheralded by anything that a man may ride to the very edge without knowing he is near one. They vary greatly in size, some being miles across and hundreds of feet deep, but the Bar- ranca de Muerte was vot large. At its widest pars it was not more than two bundred feet and alf as deep. It was shallow where they entered, and they went on withont inconvenience or comment. Jack looked only to see that no foe was near, but Bozeman, who had never seen the place be- word, and no man could say aught against | fore, photographed all in his mind as a part of them in any wa After leavin _| some time in silence, but Bozeman finally spoke again. ** Boyee,” he said, ‘‘ I’ve be’n a-thinkin’ that it would be a good idee fur us ter give up ther trip ter Santa Fe fur ther present, and push fur Fort Black instead.” aes you crazy?’ Jack asked, in astonish- ment. ‘*Not as I knows on, but ther ’Paches hev driv’ us out o’ our bee-line fur Santa Fe, an’ et seems ter me our best way is ter push fur ther fort an’ stock up with grub and ammunition.” “ We can get it at Santa Fe.” ‘Yas, arter crossin’ a good bit o’ territory, with only five bulle:s ter back us up.” , ‘** Ain’t that enough?” “Sca’cely.” ** Bah! could travel from Yuma to Chey- enne City with an empty gun,” said Jack, who had a weakness for boasting. ‘* Kim, now, you rascal, none o’ your non- sense to me,” said Bozeman, grimly. Your logic ain’t clear cut, fur it ain’t two hours sence you war howlin’ like a norther ‘cause we were out o’ lead, Besides, I know you:” The last words were very significant, and Cactus Jack burstinto a laugh. He was seldom very boastful or obstinate when with his part- ner, and they agreed better than most people of minds less strong. ‘* Zeke Bozeman, you are a hog and a despot. Why should you come down here from your mountains and try to boss the portable cactus of the South. Ain’t you got any modesty in your carcass?” ‘*T come from where they raise men, an’ ther New Mexicans need sech ter lead ’em,” retorted Bozeman. The two looked at each other with friendly eyes, and then the young giant laughed again. ‘You'll bave your own way, of course. You alwaysdo. lf I havea failing in the world it is that of being too modest. So you want to go to Fort Black?’ ‘* That’s the size on’t,” “Then we'll Eo. Maybe we’ll find some fun down there. lack Bend has a few inhabi- tants, and we will see what can be done there, The fort has got a new commander since I was there, and he ought to have a chance to shake hands with the cactus king.” They turned a little more toward the south and rode on in a contented mood. ) It would have been hard to find two men more satisfied with their lots than they. Nei- ther had a care in the world beyond the de- mands of the moment; neither had a person in all the wide world to look after except himself. When Zeke Bozeman came down from the rugged mountains of Montana and met Cactus Jack, they seemed to be at once drawn to each other. Thenceforth, they rode for the most part together, whether engaged in mining, scouting or hunting, and theirs was a placid life in spite of its dangers. Free from shadows of the past from loves of the present and forebodings o the future, they went their way and gave little thought to the morrow, On the Farag occasion, they did not intend to reach Fort Black before the ‘middle of the next forenoon. It might be done by daylight but their horses were jaded and the roposed to give them rest during a portion of the night. they went on, darkness fell over the plain. cog improved the last gleam of day to sweep the level with keen glances, but there was no- where any signof Apache or other foes. Un- less hidden by arroyo or barranca (clefts in the earth) none were anywhere about, for the sandy plain did not give life even to sage-brusb. ‘‘In an hour’s time,” said the young giant, ‘(we will reach the Barranca de Muerte, and there I reckon we had better balt for the night.” ‘The Barranca of Death!” repeated Zeke. ‘* That is — cheerful name, an’ I s’ ther pace is equally so, but I hope thar ain’t any- bing ketchin’ in ther name.” ‘‘We’ll be as safe as prairie dogs, Boze. It got its name because a score of soldiers were once killed there by the durned Apaches. They were hemmed in and cut to pieces one by one, but we don’t keer fer ghosts or red varmints, whatever their pedigree.” ‘*T reckon I kin bear it. Lead on,” was the grim reply. For some time longer they rode leisurely in the darkness, and then, before Zeke suspected the fact, reached the upper end of the barranca. These freaks of nature are always surprises on y- the Apaches, they rode on for | Montana better than he, and he was fast learn- his trade. There were few men who knew ing New Mexico. lalf a mile further on, the giant suddenly paused. ‘* Here we rest,” he said. Bozeman looked at the dark walls of the cleft, which were about a hundred feet apart, but made no answer. ‘‘ Near the eastern cliff is a pool of fine water, and this, with what we carry, is all we need,” added Cactus Jack, as he leaped from his horse. It was soon shown that he bad made a good choice of location. It was as retired as any, and when the mountain man had sampled the water he found it good. The horses, too, seemed to ~ preciate it, and when they had taken enoug they were rubbed down and given the food brought along for their use. A few yards from the pool was a sizable niche, and in this they were corraled and left to them- selves. The men were hungry, and they were not long in occupying the outside half of the recess an sevCumnenenres to their humble supper. Thus, the barranca assumed its former ap- pearance. The pool was deserted, and, in the niche, horses and men were 80 well conc°aled that an army of soldiers might have tramped through without seeing them. Supper over, the guides smoked their pipes, but they were so tired that conversation was fitful and they were not long in thinking of sleep. The horses had already laid down, and when their masters spread out their blankets and fol- lowed their example, utter silence fell upon the barranca, An hour passed. By that time both men were sleeping soundly, so soundly, in fact, after their long ride, that one would almost have thought it possible for an enemy to steal upon them un- awares and end their career; but men of such callings as theirs sleep ever on the alert and not much is required to awaken them. Cactus Jack suddenly became conscious. His first feeling was that he had been aroused by other than natural causes, but bis mind was . perfectly clear and he made no injudicious move. His face was toward the main barranca as he lay, and, without raising his head, he looked steadily into the darkness. As he did so, a well-known sound came to bis hearing. It was the stamp of a horse’s hocf on the sand, but it came from outside the recess and one glance showed him that both of their own borses were still behind them. Before he could reflect further, Bozeman’s hand was laid on his arm, ‘* What is it?” Jack cautiously asked. “We have got neighbors,” answered the mouraineer. ** Who are they?” ‘‘Durned ef 1 know. I war awoke by a cruncbin’ in thesand, an’ I plainly heerd horses a-movin’, but they had passed my line o’ obser- vation afore I got my eyes open. They are at ther imow.” <& ‘* Have you any idea how many?” ‘*Not an idee. Thar may be twenty or onl two. Do you s’pose it is a ’Pache war-party?” ‘* Maybe so, or it may be they are messengers from some emigrant train after water.” The speaker silently gained his feet, and Bozeman followed bis example. ‘We must have a look at them,” said Jack. ‘‘Sartin.” ‘Well, here goes for a squint.” The giant swung his rifle over bis shoulder with an air that indicated he was about to strike from the recess, but Bczeman knew bim too well to fear that. Both looked to see that their weapons were in place and’then crept to- ward the point of interest. No awkward movement betrayed their pres- ence, and they were soon at the corner, where they paused before exposing their heads. ** Voices!” Cactus Jack said, pcm ‘‘ White men, too,” added the mountaineer. ‘ Friends, maybe: ibly enemies.” The guide thrust his head forward and the vicinity of the pool was open to bis gaze, First of all, he saw three horses, and, just beyond them, as many men. The latter were talking, but their voices were so low that no words could be distinguished. Even in the darkness, however, Cactus Jack saw that they were of bis own race, and bad be not a strong vein of caution under his boisterous ag he might bave at once uncovered bim- self. As it was, he remembered that all men in mM (E “co 900ks cor ~ 3 a >