Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 218 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

16 most deadly hostility. There was no more “ talk” to be drawn from him—not a word. In the midst of his warriors he stood scowling and silent. Neither did any of the chiefs deign to reply. ‘The common braves made answers to our overtures, but only by the insult of a peculiar gesture. Any hopes we might have conceived of a pacific termination to the encounter died within us as we noted the behavior of the band. Whether the Indian was in earnest in the proposal he had made, or whether it was a scheme to get our scalps without fighting for them, we could not tell at the time. There was an air of probability that he was honest about the matter; but, on the other hand, his notori- ous character for hostility to the white race contra- dicted this probability. I had heard, moreover, that this same chief was in the habit of adopting such stratagems to get white men into his power. We had no time to speculate upon the point, nor yet upon that which puzzled us far more—how he had arrived at the knowledge of who we were. What could he have known of the ** White Eagle of the forest,’’ or the “ young soldier chief?"’ So far as I myself was concerned, the title might have been explained. My uniferm—I still wore— might have been espied upon the prairies, The In- dians are quick at catehing an appellation and com- municating it to one another. But the figurative sobriquet of the a hunter? That was more specific. The Red-Hand could not have used it acci- dentally. Impossible. It bespoke a knowledge of us and our affairs that SS eee mysterious and in- explicable. It did not fail to recall to our memory the apparition that had astonished Wingrove in the morning. There was no opportunity to discuss the question. We had only time for the most vague conjectures before the savages began to fire at us, discharging in rapid succession the guns which they had loaded. We soon pe rabheg that we had little to fear from this sort of attack. Unless by some stray bullet, there was not much danger of their hitting us. Their clumsy maveve of the es nm was evident enough. It added to the probability that the chief had been in earnest about our giving instructions to his warriors Still was there some degree of dan- ger. The guns they had got hold of were large ones, most of them old muskets of heavy caliber that cast their ounces of lead to a long distance. We heard their bullets pattering against the rocks, and one or two of them had passed whistling over our heads, It was mmr possible to get hit, and, to avoid such an accident, we crouched behind our parapet as closely as if we had been sereening ourselves from the most expert marksmen. or a long time we did not return their fire. O’Tigge was desirons of trying anotber shot with his piece, but I forbade it. Warned by what they had witnessel, the Indians had retired beyond even the range of the sergeant’s fusil. Two parties of savages now separated from the main body, and, taking opposite directions, go sweep- ing at full gallop round the butte. We divine their object. They have discovered the position of our animals; their intention is to stampede them. We perceive the importance of preventing this, If we can but keep our animals out of the hands of the savages until darkness come down, then may there be some prospect of our escaping by flight. True, it is only a faint hope. There are ren, contingencies by which the design may be defeated, but there are circumstances to favor it, and to yield without a struggle would only be to deliver ourselves into the hands of an unpitying foe. The last words uttered by the Arapaho ehief have warned us that death will be preferable to captivity. It was of the utmost im animals from being swept off, and to this end were our energies now directed. Three of us faced toward them, leaving the fourth to watch the movements of the enemy on the other side of the butte. Once more the wild cry rings among the rocks, as the red horsemen’‘gallop round, rattling their shields and waving their weapons high in the air. These demonstrations are made to affright our animals and cause them to break from thsir fasten- — They have not the desired effect. he mules prance and hinny; the horses neigh and bound over the grass; but the long boughs bend without breaking, and, acting as elastic’ springs, give full play to the affrighted creatures. The first skurry is over, and we are gratified to see the four quadrupeds still grouped around the tree, and fast as ever to its branches. The stampede has proved a failure. Another swoop of the wild horsemen ends with like result, and then another. And now closer and closer ee com>—alloping in all directions, crossin and meeting, and wheeling and circling, with shri screams and violent gesticulations. As they pass near, they shelter themselves behind the bodies of their horses. An arm over the withers, a leg above the croup, are all of the riders we can see. It is useless to fire at these. The horses we might tum- ble over at pleasure, but the men offer no point to aim at. At intervals a red face gleams through the peiconth locks of the mane, but ere we can take sight upon it, itis jerked away. Fora considerable time this play is kept up, the Indians all the time yelling as if engaged in some terrible conflict, As to ourselves, we are too wary to waste our shots upon the horses, and we reserve them in the hope of being able to draw a bead on some rider more reckless than the rest. The es, soon offers. Two of the savages exhibit a determination to succeed in snatching away the horses, Knife in band, they career around, evidently with the design of cutting the bridles and lazoes, Cheered on by the shouts of their comrades, they grow less care- ful of their skins, and at length make a dash to- ward the group under the tree. When almost within head-reach of the fastenings by which the mules are held, one of the latter slews suddenly round and sends her heelsin a well-directed fling against the head of the foremost horse! The steed instantly wheels, and the other coming behind follows the same movement, exposing both the riders to our . They make an effort to throw themselves to | other side of their animals, but the opportunity is rtance to prevent our Two of us fire at the same ins'an', and vs the | smoke clears away the red robbers are seen sprawl- ing upon the plain, Our shots have proved fatal. The Wild Huntress. — Before we can reload the struggles of the fallen horsemen have ended, and both lie motionless upon the grass. Warned by the fate of their comrades, the Indians, although still continuing their noisy demonstrations, now kept well out of the range of our rifles. There appeared to be no others in the band desirous of achieving fame at such a risk of life. CHAPTER XXXIX A RAMPART ON WHEELS, For a time, our hearts throbbed more lightly; the pressure of apprehension was removed. We fancied the savages had either not yet become fully aware of the advantage of storming our pvusition, or that the certainty of losing some of their number had in- timidated them from muking the attempt. They had ahandoned their design, whatever it was; and intended waiting for night—the favorite fighting- time of the Indian. This was just what we desired; and were congratulating ourselves that the prospect had changed in our favor. Our joy was short-lived; the enemy showed no sign of repose. Clustered upon the plain, they still kept to their horses. By this, we knew that some other movement was intended. The chiefs were again in the center of the crowd: the Red-Hand conspicuous. He was heard haranguing his war- riors, though we could not guess the purport of his speech. His tures told of fierce rage—his glances, nov and then directed toward us, betokened a spirit of implacable vengeance. At the conclusion of his speech, he waved his hand in the direction of the wagon. The gesture ap- sage to be the accompaniment of a command. t was promptly and instantly obeyed, A dozen horsemen dashed out from the group, and galloped off. Their course was straight up the valley—toward the scene of their late strife. Those who had remained upon the ground dismounted, and were seen giving their horses to the grass, This might have led us to anticipate a suspension of hostilities; but it did not. The attitude of our enemies was not that of purposed repose. On the contrary, they camé together afoot; and engaged in what appeared to be an eager consultation. We watched the party who had ridden off. As anticipated, the wagon proved to be the object of their excursion. Having reached it, they halt: and, dismounting, become grouped around it, It is im- ,0ssible for some time to tell what they are doing. ‘ven the glass does not revealthe nature of their movements. There are others besides those who rode up; and the white tilt appears in the midst of a dark cluster of men and horses. Their errand at length becomes obvious. The crowd is seen to scatter. Horses appear harnessed to the tongue—the wheels are in motion—the vehicle is turning round upon the plain. We see that some half-dozen horses are hitched on, with men seated upon their backs as teamsters! They makea wheel and head down the valley in the direction of the butte. They are seen urging the animals into a Aye pace. The wagon, no longer loaded, leaps lightly over the smooth sward. The horses are spurred into a gallop; and amidst the shouts of the savage drivers, diag the huge vehicle after them with the rough rapidity of a mountain howitzer. In afew minutes it advances to the ground occupied by the dismmounted band, who surround it upon its arrival, We upon the summit have a full view of all. We recognize the well-known Troy wagon—with its red wheels, blue body, and ample canvas roof. The lettering, ‘‘ Troy, New York,” is legible on the tilt— a strange sight in the midst of its present possessors! What can be their object with the wagon? Their actions leaves us not long in doubt. The horses are unharnessed and led aside. Half- a-dozen savages are seen crouching under the axles, and laying hold of the spokes. As many more stand behind—screened from our sight by the tilt-cloth, the body, and boxing. The pole projectsin the di- rection of the mound! 5 Their object is now too painfully apparent. Without thinking of the analogy of the Trojan horse, we see that this monster of a modern Troy is about to be omg for a similar PUPS, Yes— shielded by the thick planking of its bed—by its head and hind boards—by its canvas covering, and other cloths which they have cunningiy spread along its sides, the savages res 4 approach the mound in perfect safety. Such is their design. With dismay we perceive it. We can do naught either to retard or hinder its execution. Those under the vehicle can “ spoke” the wheels forward, without in the least exposing their bodies to our aim. Even their hands and arms are not visible; buffalo-robes and blankets hang over, draping the wheels from our view. Those behind are equally well screened; and can propel the huge machine without risk of danger. We note all these circumstances with feelings of keen apprehension. Weadopt no means to hinder the movement; we can think of none, since none is ossible. Weare paralyzed by a sense of our utter elplessness. We are allowed but little time to reflect upon it, Amidst the shouts of the savages, we heard the creaking of the wheels; we behold the mass in motion! Onward it comes toward the mound—advancing with apparently spontaneous motion, as if it were some living monster—some horrid mammoth—ap- proaching to destroy and devour us! Risking the straggling shots, we looked over. The wagon had reached the base of the butte, its tongue was forced up among the trees, its body stood side by side with the granite prisms. The storming party no longer required it as a shield; they would be eufficiently sheltered by the great bowlders, and to these they now betook themselves, passing from one to the other, until they had completely surrounded the butte. We observed this movement, but could not prevent it. We saw the Indians flitting from rock to rock, like red specters, and with the rapidity of lightning flashes. In vain we attempted to take aim; before a barrel could be brought to bear upon them they were out of sight. We ourselves, galled by the leaden hail, were forced to withdraw behind our ne \ Ha! what means that blue column slowly curling upward? It issmo e! See! Another and another —a dozen of them! From all sides they shoot up- ward, endire¢ling the mound! Hark to those sounds! — a the swish of burning grass—the crackle of kindling sticks. They are making fires around us! The columns are at first filmy, but soon grow thicker and more dense. They spread out and join each other; they become attracted toward the rocky mass; they fall against its sides, and wreathing up- ward, thie its summit in their ramifications. The platform is enveloped in the cloud! We see the savages ns fer the plain—dimly, as if though a crape. Those with the guns in their hands still continue te fire; the others are dismounting. The latter aban: don their horses, and appear to be advancing on foot. Their forms through the magnifying mist loom spectral and gigantic! They are visible only for a moment. The smoke rolls its thick volume around the summit, and shrouds them from our —— We no longer see our enemy or the earth. The sky is obscured, even the rock on which we os is no longer visible, nor one of us to the other. Throughout all continues the firing from the plain, the bullets hurtle around our heads, and the clamor of our foemen reaches our ears with flerce thrilling import. We hear the crackling of fagots, and the spurting, esp noise of many fires; but perceive no blaze, only the thick smoke rising in continuous waves, and every moment growing denser around us. We can bear it no longer; we are half-suffocated. Any form of death before this! Is it too late to reach our horses? Doubtless, they aro already snatched away? No matter; we cannot remain where we are. In five minutes we must yield to the fearful as- phyxia. ‘No, never! let us die as we had determined, with arms in our hands!’’ Voices husky and hoarse make answer in the affirmative. We spring to our feet, and come together—so that we can touch each other. We grasp our guns, and get ready our knives and ral e mcke te the edge of the rock, and, sliding down, arcure ‘our- selves of the path. We grope our way cownward, guided by the granite walls on each side. We go not with caution, but in the very recklessness of a des- perate need. Weare met by the masses of smoke still rolling upward. Further down, we feel the hot caloric as we come nearer to the crackling fires. We heed them not, but rush wey! forward—till we have cleared both the cloud and the flames, aud stand upon the level plain! Itis but escaping from the fires of hell to rmsh into the midst of its demons. On all sides they sur- round us with poised spears and brandished clubs, Amidst their wild yells, we scarcely hear the cracking of our guns and pistols; and those who fall to our shots are soon lost to our sight, behind the bodies of others who crowd forward, to encom- — us. Fora short while we keep together and ght, back to back, facing our foes. But we are soon separated; and'each struggles with a dozen assail- ants around him! The struggle was not protracted. Sofaras I was concerned, it ended, almost on the instant of my being separated from my comrades. A blow from behind, as of a clubstriking meupon the skull, de- rived me of consciousness; leaving me only the one ast thought—that it was death! CHAPTER XL. A CAPTIVE ON A CRUCIFTIX. Am I dead? Surely it was death, or an oblivion that equaled it? But no—I live! Iam conscious that I live. Light is falling upon my eyes—thought isreturning to my soul! Am |upon earth? or is it another world in whichI awake? It is a bright world —with a sky of blue,anda sun of gold; but are they the sky and sun of the earth? Both may be- long to a future world? I can see no earth— neither fields, nor trees, nor rocks, no water—naught but the blue canopy and the golden orb. Where is the earth? It should be under and around me, but I cannot see it. Neither around nor beneath can I look—only upward .nd forward—only upon the sun and the sky! Wha. hinders me from turning? Is it that I sleep and dream? Is the incubus of a hor- rid nightmare upon me? Am I, like Prometheus, chained to a rock face upward? No—not thus; I feel that I am standing—erect as if nailed against a wall! If I am not drekming J am certainly in an upright attitude. 1 feel sy Itmbs beneath me; while my arms appear to be stretched out to their full extent, and held as in the grasp of some invisible hand! My head, too, is fixed; I can neither turn nor move it. A chord traverses across my cheeks. There is something between my teeth. A piece of wood itappears to be? It gags me, and f stifles my breathing! AmIin human hands? or arm they fiends who are thus clutching me? And where am [in this stringent attitude? I am conscious that I am a captive and bound—a captive to Indians—to Arapahoes. Memory helps me te this knowledge; and furthermore, that I should be, if I have not been carried elsewhere, in the valley of the Huerfano—by the Orphan Butte. I bear shouts that appear to be signals—wor¢s of command in the flerce guttural of the Arapaho. Other sounds seem nearer, I distinguish the voic s of two men in conversation. They are Indien voices. As I listen they grow more distinct. The speakers are fod aoe me—the voices reach me, as if rising out of the ground beneath my feet! They draw nigher and nigher. They are close to where I stand—so close that I can feel them breath- ing upon my body—but still I see them not. Their heads are below the line of my vision. I feel a banc —khuckles pressing against my throat; the cold blade of a knife is laid along my cheek; its steel point glistens under my eyes. I shudder with a hor- rid thought. I mistake the purpose. I hear the ‘‘wheek*’ that announces the cutting of a tight- drawn cord. The thong slackens, and drops off from my cheeks. My head is free: but the piece of wood between my teeth—it remains still gagging me firmly. I cannot get rid of that. I can now look below, and around me. I am on the butte—upon its summit. I am close to the edge of the paltform, and command a full view of the valley below. A painted Arapaho is standing on each side of me. One is a common warrior, with naught to distinguish him from his fellows. The other is a chief. Even without the insignia of his band, the tall gaunt form and lupine visage aro cS comicboo (E(0) et