Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 218 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

ee a ground where the wagon had been captured. art of its load—barrels and heavy boxes—were lying upon the sward. They were all broken, and rifled of their contents. The plunder had been carried to the butte. The dead bodies were still there—only those of the white men. I even halted to examine them. They were all stripped of their clothing, all scalped, and otherwise mutilated. The faces of all were blood-bedaubed. Under the red mask I could not have recognized them—even had they been the faces of old friends. There were six of them. Divested of their gar- ments, I could form no conjecture as to who or what they nad been—whether teamsters or emigrants, old-seekers or soldiers.. The Mormon could not ave been among them; the bodies were all too stout for his; while, on the other hand, there was none of them that could have been mistaken for that of the squatter, Holt. I turned away from the sickening sight, and continued my gallop. My pursuers were a good mile behind me, The sun had already sunk over the crest of the cliffs, and I could just see the mounted savages through the darkening gloom, still following as fast as their horses could gallop. In five minutes after I had entered the gorge. The twilight continued no longer, In the canyon it was night. I followed the stream upward, keeping along near the bank. Thick darkness was over and around me; but the gleam of the water and its HD: pling sound served to ruide me onthe path, I could not see any track—either of horses or wagons; but I knew they had passed over the ground, There was a narrow strip of bottom-land thickly timbered, and an opening through the trees indicated the a that the wagons must have taken. I trusted the trail to my horse. In addition to his keen instinct, he had been trained to tracking, and with his muzzle pro- jected forward and downward, so that his lips almost touched the earth, he lifted the scent like a hound. We could only make progress af a quick walk; but I consoled myself with the thought that my pursuers could go no faster. Seeing how easily I had ridden away from them, they might determine to abandon the pursuit—returning to revenge themselves upon my fellow-captives. {had groped my way some two or three miles up the gorge, when I became sensible of-a singular faintness stealing over me. A chill crept through my frame—not like that produced by cold from without, but as if the blood was freezing in my veins! The feeling was accompanied by a sense of torpor and lassitude—like that experienced by one drep- ping to ene in asnow-storm. I made an effort to rouse myself, thinking it was sleep that was oppress- ing me. It might well have been, since it was more than thirty hours since I had slept, and then only for a short while. It occurred to me that, by dismount- ing and walking for a distance, I might recover warmth and wakefulnes. With this design I alight- ed from my horse. Once upon the ground, I discov- ered that I could not walk—that I could not even keep my feet! My limbs tottered under me as if I had been for months bedrid. Only by holding on to my horse could [ stand erect. What could it mean? My Arab turne’ his head foward me, as if making the same inquiry. I endeavored to remount him, but could not. I was unable to clamber upon his back, and, after an nnsuccessful effort, desisted, still supporting myself against his body. Had he moved away at the moment T should have fallen. and I must have fallen after my senses left me. In the last gleam ofc nsciousness [ remembered stand- ing by the side of my horse. «But I must have fallen: for when thought returned I found myself upoa my back, stretched at full length along the grass. CHAPTER XLVL. THE TRACK OF THE MOCCASIN. Tue blue dawn of morning was glinting amo the rocks when I awoke. On the crest of the cl was a streak of tenber colored MEN, that betokened the rising of the sun and warned me that it was time to be stirring. I had no toilet to make—no break- fast to eat: nothing to do but mount my horse and move onward, I continued u was no path leadin the lateral ravine—since there out from it; and to return to the Huerfano, would have been to ride back into the teeth of danger. I still felt faint. Though less than twenty-four hours since I had eaten, I hungered acutely. Was there nothing I could eat? 1 looked inquiringly around. It was a scene of sterility and starvation. Not a symptom of life—scarcely a sign of vegetation! ks, bare and forbidding, formed two parallel facades grinning at each other across the gorge— their rugged features but little relieved by the mott- sn - of dark junipers that clung from their clefts. ere appeared neither root nor fruit that ae be eaten. Only a chameleon could maintain exist- = be such a spot! ‘one + nog ee made reflection when, as if to contradict it, the form of a noble animal became ees wenp hie earthen le of the re e es, but its spiral horns roclaiened it of a different ge- nus.® ‘These enabled me to identify it as the rare mountain-ram—the magnificent ammon of the north- ern Andes. It was standing guica & salient point of the cliff, its form boldly proj d against the purple sky, in an attitude fixed and statuesque. One might have fancied it placed there as an embellishment—a characteristic feature of that wild landscape. The «cene would have been incomplete without fe From my point of observation it was five hundred yards distant. It would have been equally safe at five, sinee IT had no means of destroying it. I might easily have crept within short range, Since a grove of p reste s, just commencing where I had halted, extended up the bottom of the ravine. Un- der these I could Save stalked to the base of the cliff on which = enimal, eerie SOT te eee yromonto rojecting into the : “a . een only calauned the si¢ht more vee poor} my gun was empty, and I had no means of ty, it. Was it certain the piece was empty: UD = — the Indian have believed it to be lo led? . p ra his moment I had not thought of examining ol had the ramrod and inverted it into the ae ag head struck upon a soft substance. The porew He four fingers above the muzzle: the gup was Ser 4 There was no cap upon the nipple. There The Wild Fluntress. a — none! This accounted for the piecé having missed fire.. In all likelihood I owed my life to the circum- stance of the savage being ignorant of the percus- sion principle. I was now indebted to another circumstance for a SOD Ry of caps. The locker near the heel of the stock had escaped the attention of the Indians. Its brass cover had passed for a thing of ornament, On springing it open the little caps of corrugated copper gleamed before my eyes—an abundance of them. I tapped the powder into the nipple, ac- inoe acap, and dismounting, set forth upon the The spreading tops of the cottonwoods concealed me, and crouching under them, I made my ap- proaches as rapidly as the nature of the ground would permit. It grew damper as I advanced, and presently I passed pools of water end patches of smooth mud, where waterhad recently lain. It was the bed of an intermittent stream—a hydrographic phenomenon of frequent occurrence in the central regions of North America. The presence of water accounted for that of the cottonwood trecs—a sure indication of moisture in the soil. The water was a welcome sight. I was suffering from thirst even more than from hunger, and not- withstanding the risk of losing my chance of a shot, I determined to stop and drink. I was creeping forward to the edge of one of the ponds when a sight came under my eyes that. as- tonished mé, and to such a degree as todrive both thirst and hunger out of my thoughts—at least for the moment. In the margin of sandy mud extending along the edge of the water appeared a line of tracks—the tracks of human feet! On crawling nearer I per- ceived that they were moccasin tracks, but of such tiny dimensions as to leave no doubt as to the sex of the individual who had made them. Clearly, they were the imprints of a woman’s feet! A wo- man must have passed that way! An Indian wo- man of course! This was my first reflection, and almost simulta- neous with it arose another half-interrogative con- jecture—was it Su-wa-neet No, The foot was too small for that of the forest. maiden. Ihadaremem- brance of the dimensions of hers. The tracks be- fore my eyes were not over eight inches in length, and could only have been made by a foot slender and of elegant shape. The pbrind was perfect and its clear outline denoted the light, elastic tread of youth. It was a young woman who had made those footmarks. At first I saw no reason to doubt that the tracks were those of some Indian girl. Their size would not have contradicted the supposition. Among the aboriginal belles of America a little foot is the rule, a large one the exception. I had tracked many a pair much smaller than those, but never had I seen the footprints of an Indian with the toes turned out, and such was the peculiarity of those now be- fore me. This observation—which I cid not make until after some time had elapsed—filled_ me wiih asfonish- ment, and something more. It was suggestive of many and varied emotions. The girl or woman who had made these tracks could never have been strapped to an Indian cradle. She must be white! CHAPTER XLVI. A RIVAL STALKER. Ir was not by any conjecture that I arrived at this conclusion. I was quite confident that the footsteps were not those of a squaw—all oes gE as was the contrary hypothesis. I observed that they were very recent—of less than an hour’s age. As I rose from regarding them anew sign ap- peared on the same bed of sand—the foot-marks of a wolf! No—I was deceived by resemblance. On nearer examination they were not. wolf-tracks I saw, but those of a dog, and evidently a large one. These tracks were also fresh, like the woman’s tracks —made doubtless at the same time. The dog had accompanied the woman, or rather had been follow: ing her, since a little further on, where both were in the same line, his track was uppermost. There were two special reasons why this sign should astonish me: a whife woman in such a place, and wearing moccasins! But for the style of the chiussure, | might have fancied that the tracks were those of some one who had strayed from the cara- van. I might have connected them with her—ever uppermostin my thoughts. But—no. Small though they were, they were yet too large for those mignon feet, well remembered. After I might be mis- taken? Some dusky maiden might have passed that way, followed by her dog? This hypothesis would have removed all mystery, had I yielded to it. I could not; it was contrary to eA tracking ex- perience. Even the dog was not Indian; the prints of his paws proclaimed him of a different race. My ea ggg A did not prevent me from quenching my thirst. The pain was paramount; and after assuaging it, I turned by eyes one more toward the cliff. The wild ram had not stirred from his place. The noble animal was still standing upon the sum- mit of the rock. He had not even changed his atti- tude, In all likelihood, he was acting as the sentinel of a flock, that was browsing behind him. The sun was falling fair upon his body, and deepened the fern-red color upon his flanks. L could note his full round eyes ave gy under the golden beam. I was near enough to bring him down; and, should the rifle prove to have been properly loaded, I was likely to have for my breakfast the choicest viand of the mountain region of America, I had raised my piece, sighted the noble game, and was about to pull trigzer, when, to my astonishment, the animal sprung off from the cliff; and, turning back down- ward, fell ak 4d into the gorge! When I saw him pitching outward from the rock, I fancied he was making one of those singular sum- mersets, freqnenuy. t pow aie by the ovis «mon in descending the ledges of a cliff. But no. Had the descent been a voluntary one, he would have come down upon his huge elastic horns, instead of falling as he had done, with the dull sodden sound of a lifeless body. I Fig that the bighorn had ceased to live; and the report of a gun—that rung through the ech and was still reverberating from the cliffs— So e Nien A of his <eayealee omy iis me hunter, stalking on the other side, had en the start of me! Pm ; ‘ nnn emt oe | | } | : | | 19 man White or red? Which fired the shot? If an Indian, my head would bein as much danger of losing its skin as the sheep. If a white man, I might still hope for a breakfast of broiled mutton, Even a churl might be expected to share with a starving man; but it was not the quarter in which to encounter a Christian of that kidney. From prudential considerations, | kept my place. Screened by the cottonwoods, I should have an op- portunity of deciding the point, without my pres- ence being suspected. If the hunter should prove to be an Indian, I could still retreat to my horse without being observed. I had not long to wait. I heard a noise, as of some one making way through the bushes. The moment after, a huge wolf-like animal rushed round the projecting angle * the cliff, and sprung upon the carcass of the big- orn, At the same instant a voice reached my ears. ‘Off there, Wolf! off, villain dog! Don’t you see that the creature is killed—no thanks to you, sirrah’’’ Good heavens! it was the voice of a woman! While I was yet quivering under the surprise pro- duced by the silvery tones, the ——— ws her ma before my eyes—a girl majesticaily beautiful. A face smooth-skinned, with a tinge of golden brown —cheeks of purplish-red—a nose slightly aquiline, with nostrils of spiral curve—eyes like those of the Egyptian antelope—a forehead white and high above bounded by a band of shining black hair and surmounted by a coronet of scarlet nee such was the head that I saw rising above the green frondage of the cottonwoods! The body was yet hidden be- * hind the leaves; but the girl = then stepped from out the bushes, and her whole form was exhibited to my view—equally striking and picturesque. | need not say that it was of perfect shape—bust, body, and limbs all symmetrical. A face like that described could not belong to an ungainly form. The costume of the girl corresponded to the cast of her features. About both there was that air of wild picturesqueness, which we observe in art paint- ings of the Gipsy, and sometimes in the Gipsy her- self—for those sirens of the green lanes have not all disappeared; and, but that 1 saw the snowy cone of Pike’s Peak rising over the crest of the cliff 1 might have fancied myself in the Sierra Asturias, with a beautiful Gitana standing before me. The soft fawn- skin ti/ma, with its gaudy broidering of beads and stained quills—the fringed skirt and buskined ankles —the snes Navajo blanket slung scarf-like over her shoulders—all presented a true Gipsy appear- ance. The plumed circlet upon the head was more typical of Transatlantic costume; and the rifle car- ried by a female hand was still another idiosyncrasy of America. It was from that rifle the report had proraenes as also the bullet, that had laid low the jighorn! It was not a hunter then who had killed the game; but she who stood before me—a hist) ess —the WILD HUNTREss. CHAPTER XLVI. THE WILD HUNTRESS. No longer was it from fear that I held back: but a hesitancy 4 cy-- from surprise mingled with ad- miration. The sight of so much beauty—grand as unexpected—was enough to unnerve one, especialy in such a place—and one to whose eye the female. form had so long been a stranger. Su-wa-nee’s | had seen only at a distance; and hers, to my right, was no longer beautiful. I hesitated to show myself—lest the sight of me should alarm this lovely apparition, and cause her to take flight. The thought was not unnatural- since. the tri-colored pigments of black, red, and white were still upon my skin; and I must have presented the picture of a chimney-sweep with a dining-plate glued upon his breast. ° ; In such a guise I knew that I must cut a ludicrous figure, and would have slip back to the poo}, and washed myself; but Id ed to take my eyes from that beautiful vision, lest I might never look is it again! In my absence, she would be gone? 1 feared even then, that on seeing me she might take flight; and I was too faint to follow her. For this reason, I stood silently gazing through my leafy covert, like one who watches the movements of some shy and beautiful bird. Her voice again reached me, as she recommenced scolding the dog; even its chiding tones were sweet. She had approached, and stoo for a moment over the bighorn, as if to satisfy herself that the ani- mal wasdead. Her canine companion did not ap- ear to be quite sure of the fact; for he continucd 0 spring repeatedly upon the carcass with open mouth, as if eager to devour it. ‘Off, off!’ cried she, threatening the dog with t! butt of her rifle. ‘ You wicked Wolf! what has gct into you? Have I not told you_ that the thing ik dead—what more do you want? Mind, sirrah!” con- tinued she, shaking ber finger significantly at the dog—‘‘mind, my good fellow! you had no part in the killing of it; and if you spoil the skin, you shail have Re sharein the flesh. You hear me? Not a morsel!” Wolf appeared to understand the hint and retired. Impelled by hunger, I accepted the cue: ‘“You will not refuse a morsel to one who is starv- s9 Banal who speaks?” cried the huntress, turning round with a glance rather of inquiry than alarn). “Down, Wolf!’ commanced she, as the dog bourd- ed forward with a growl. “Down, you savege brute! Don’t you hear that some one 1s starving ? Ha! anegro! Poor devil! where can he have come from, I wonder?” Only my head was visible—a thick bush in frontof me conc: aling my body. The coat of char upon my face was deceiving her. “No, not a negro,” said J, stepping out and dis- covering my perscn—‘‘ not a negro, though I have been submitted to the treatment of one.”’ “Ho! white, red and black! Mercy on me, what a frightful harlequin! Ha, ha, ha!” “My toilet appears to amuse you, fair huntress? I might apologize for it—since I can assure you it is. not my own conception, nor is it to my taste any more than—’”’ “You are a white man, then?” said she interrupt- ing me—at the same time stepping nearer to ex- amine me. : “I was, yesterday,” I replied, turning half round, to give her a sight of my shoulders, which the Indian COMI OOO S (E(0)