Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 218 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

ae ee eee - Ce —e to turn ake face from me! Ef ye do ye'll Sa the bullet in y’ur back. Now confess! or, by t par ey: God! you hain’t another second to sitin that err The quick, threatening manner in which the speaker grasped his gun told Stebbins that prevari- cation would be idle. In hurried speech he replied: “You committed no murder, Hickman Holt. I never said you did.” ; **No, but you said you would, and you invented proofs 0’ it? Confess you invented proofs, an’ kep’ fn over my head like a black shadder? Confess at!” Stebbins hesitated. * Quick, or ye’re a dead man!” ‘ ae | oop Ce ray » the guilty wretch, trembling as e spoke. ty ee the proofs wur false?” ——— “ They were false—I confess it.”’ “Enuf!’’ cried Holt, drawing down his gun. ‘“*Enuf for me! An’ now, ye cowardly snake, ye ander. They'll not like this. Ye may go—an’ yur conscience along wi’ ye-ef that ‘ll be any comfort to ye. Away wi’ ye! **No!”’ exclaimed a voice from behind, and at the same time Wingrove was seen stepping out from the rock. “Not yet adzactly. Ive got a score to settle wi' the skunk. The man who'd pilot that way ‘in’ another hain’t ought to live. You may let off, Hick Holt, but 7 won’t; nor w’u’d you eytber, I reck’n, if you knew—”" ““Knew what?” interrupted tbe squatter. “What he intended for your daughter.” “He airmy daughter’s husband,” rejoined Holt in a tone that betokened a mixture of bitterness and me. “That was my fault; God forgi’ me!” “He ain’t her husband—nothin’ o’ the kind. The marriage wasasham. He war takin’ poor Marian out thar for a diff'rent purpose—an’ Lilian too,” “For what pu ”’ cried Holt, a new light seeming suddenly te break upon his mind. “To make—” answered Wingrove hesitatingly. “TI cannot say the word, Hick Holt, ih presence o’ the girls—to make wives to the Mormon Prophet; that’s what he intended wi’ both o’ ’em.,”’ The scream that, like the neigh of an angry horse, burst from the lips of the squatter, drowned the last words of Wingrove’s speech, and simultaneous- ty the report of a rifle pealed upon the air. A cloud of smoke for a moment enveloped Holt and his horse, from the midst of which camea repe- tition of that wild, vengeful cry. At the same in- stant the steed of Stebbins was seen running rider- less down the valley, while the Saiot himself lay stretched, face upward, upon the sward! His body remained motionless, He was dead—a purple spot on his forehead showing where the fatal bullet had entered the ra The sisters had just time to shelter themselves be- hind the rocks when a volley from the Danites was poured upon us. Their shots fell harmlessly around, while ours, fired in return, had been better aimed, and another of these fearful men, dropping out of his saddle, yielded up his life upon the spot. The remaining five, seeing that the day had gone against them, wheeled suddenly about, and gal- Joped back down the gorge, ten times faster than they had ridden up it. It was the last we saw of the Destroying Angels/ *Oh my children!” cried Holt,in a supplicatin tone, as he staggered forward and received bot within his outstretched embrace, “ will ye—can ye forgi’me? Oh God! I’ve been a bad father to ye, but I knew not the wickedness o’ these Mormon people. No—nor half o’ his till it war too late; an’ now— “And now, father,’ said Marian, interrupting his contrite speech with a consoling smile, ‘‘ speak not of forgiveness! There is nothing to forgive, and rhaps not much to regret, since the perils we ve gone through have proved our fidelity to one another. We shall return home all the ha pier, having escaped from so many dangers, dear father!’ “Ah, Marian, gurl, you don’t know all; we hev now no home to go to,” “The same you ever had,” inte I, “if you will consent to accept it. e old cabin on Mud Creek will holdus all till we can build a larger one. But no,” I added, correcting myself, “I see two here who will scarcely feel inclined to share its hospital- ity. Another cabin, higher up the creek, will be likely re claim them for its tenants.” n blushed, while the young backwoodsman, although turning equally red at the allusion, had the co e tostammer out that he always “ thort his cabin war big enough for two.” “Stranger,” said Holt, turning to me and frank] extending his hand, “I've much to be ashamed o an’ much to thank ye for; but Laccept y’ur kin offer. You bought the land, an’I'd return ye the money ef ‘t hadn't been al] spent. I thortI c’u’d’a’ made up for it by gieltig ye somethin’ ye mout ‘a’ liked better. Now I see I can’t even gi’ ye that somethin’, since it appears to be yourn a’ready. Ye'’ve won her, stranger, an’ ye’ve got her. I kin now do is to say that from the bottom o’ my heart I consent to y’ur keepin’ her.” “ Thanks—thanks!”’ Lilian was mine forever. The curtain falls upon our drama; and brief must he the epilogue. To scenes warlike and savage succeeded those of a pacific and civilized character—as the turbulent torrent, debouching from its mountain channel, flows in tranquil current through the alluvion of the level plain. . By our Utah allies, whom we encountered on the following day, we were “ outfitted” for recrossing the prairies—the abandoned wagon, with a team ef Indian mules, affording a proper means of trans- port. Not without regret did we part with the friendly Mexican trapper, and our brave associates, the ex- rifleman and ex-infantry. We had afterward the gratification to learn that the scalpless man survived his terrible mutilation; that under the protection of Peg-leg, he and Sure- rhot were taken to the valley of Taos—whence, along with the next migration of “ diggers,’’ they may go wi’ y’ur beauties ye a bit the wuss for ‘ _— — —— --— The Wild Huntress. — eee Se Se — ———_ SSS hte by the Colorado, to the golden placers of Jalifornia. To detail the incidents of our homeward journey were a pleasant task for the pen; but the recor would scarcely interest the 1 er. The colossal squatter, silent but cheerful, drove the wagon, and busied himself about the manage- ment of his mules. The young backwoodsman and I were thus left free to interchange with our re- spective “ sweethearts *’ these phrases of delirious endearment—those glances of exquisite sweetness, that only pass between eyes illuminated by the light of a mutual love. Proverbially sweet is the month after marriage; but the honeymoon, with all its joys, could not have exceeded in bliss those ante- — hours spent by us in recrossing the prairies. ear as the sky over our heads was the horosco of our hearts; all doubt and suspieion had 1 away; not a shadow lingered upon the horizon of our future, to dim the perfect happiness we en- joyed. In our case, the delight of anticipation could not be enhanced by actual possession, possession already. We arrived safely in Swampville. In the post- office of that interesting village a letter awai me of which “‘ jet-black was de seal.” Under ordinary circumstances this should have cast a gloom upon my joy; but candor forces me to confess that a perusal of the contents of that epistle produced upon me an effect altogether the reverse. The letter announced the demise of an octogena- rian female relative—whom I had never seen—but who, for a full decade of years beyond the period allotted to the life of man—or woman either—had obstinately persisted in standin small reversion—so long, indeex to regard it as an “‘expectation.’ It was of no great amount; but, arriving just then in the very “nick o’ time,’’ was doubly welcome; and under its magical influence, a large quantity o superfluous timber soon disappeared from the banks of Mud Creek. Ah! the squatter’s clearing, with its zig fence, its girdled trees, and white dead-woods. It is no longer recognizable. The log-hut is replaced by a gem frame-dwelling with portico and veran- das—almost a mansion. The little maize-patch, scarcely an acre in extent, is now a splendid planta- nce we had betwixt me and a , that I had ceased —— — —__—_ —__. _ _._ . . __ | 145 Pisrot Parps. tion of many fields, in which wave the golden tas- | sels of the Indian corn, the broad leaves of another indigenous vegetable—the aromatic ** Indian weed,”’ — the gossamer-like florets of the precious cotton- plant. Even the ee himself you would scarcely recognize in the respectable old gentleman, who, mounted upon bis cob, with a long rifle over his shoulder, rides around, looking atter the affairs of the plantation, and picking off the squirrels, who threaten the young corn with their destructive pas 2 rete t is not the only plantation upon Mud Creek. A little further up the stream another is met with —almost equally extended, and cultivated in like manner. Need I say who is the owner of this last? Who should it be but the young backwoodsman— now transformed into a prosperous planter? The two estates are contiguous, and no jealous fence separates the one from the other. Both extend to that flowery glade, of somewhat sad _ notoriety, whose bordering woods are still undefiled by the ax. Not there, but in another spot, alike flowery and pleasant, the eye of the soaring eagle, looking from aloft, may see united together a joyous group—the owners of the two plantations—with their young wives, Marian and Lilian. The sisters are still in the full bloom of their in- Aner ges beauty. In neither is the maiden subdued into the matron—though each beholds her own type reflected in more than one bright face — by her side; while more than one Kitle voice lisps sweetly in her ear that word of fond endearment—the first that falls from human lips. Ah! beloved Lilian! thine is not a beauty born to blush but for an hour. In my ¢ es it can never fade; but, like the blossom of the citron, seems only the fairer by the side of its own fruit! I leave it to other lips to symbol the praises of thy sister— THE WILD HUNTRESS. THE END. Beadle’s Dime Library. 65 Toe Rep Ravan. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. 10c 66 Tue SpecTer Bargur. By sen Mayne Reid... 10¢ 67 THe Boy Jockgy. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr... 10c 68 Tur Fientine Traprer. By J. F. C. Adaims.. 10c 69 Tue busnw Captrarm. By Capt. F. Whittaker. 10c 70 HypraBap, By Dr. J. H. Robinson..... ..... 10e¢ 71 Capratn Coot Biape. By Jos. FE. Badger, Jr.. 10c 72 THe PHantom Hann. By Albert W. Aiken . 10c 73 THe Knicut or tHe Rep Cross. By Dr. J. | eee ribeye Mee p 10¢ 74 CAPTAIN OF THE Riries. Capt. Mayne Reid.. 10c 75 GENTLEMAN Grorae. By Albert W, Aiken... 10c 76 Tue Peers MUSKETEER. By Geo; Albony... 10c 77 Tue Fresh oF Frisco. By Albert W. Aiken.. 10c 78 Tar Mysterious Spy. By A. M. Grainger. .. 10¢ 79 Jom Puenrx. By Albert W. Aiken ........ 10e 80 A Man or Nerve. 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By Captain F. phe eS ee ee Ee wf 207 Ory Harp Heap. By Philip S. Warne ’ 208 ‘um Waite Crier. Ry Capt. Mayne Reid.. 209 Buck Fariey. By Edward Willett....... .. 210 BuccanercrR Bess. By Prentiss Ingraham... 211 Tex UNkNown Sport. By Cept. Whittaker. «12 Tae Brazos Ticers. By Buckskin Sam.... “18 Tee War Tram. By Cantain Mayne Reid. 214 Toe Two Coo. Sports. By Wm. R. Evyster. 215 Parson Jim. By Captain Fred. Whittaker. 216 THe Corsarr PLANTER. By Co). Ingraham. 217 THe Serpent oF Ext Paso’ By Buckskin Sam a ae kw dialed le vad eaees 218 Tur WiLp Huntress, By Capt. Mayne Reid. 219 ‘THe ScorPron Brotuers. By Capt. Wilton. 220 Taz Specrer Yacut. By Col. P. Ingraham. A NEW issUVe CLEry WEEK. Sendie’s Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by mail en receipt of twelve cents each. BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William street, New York. Eomiel 10¢ 10¢ 10e le Cec 10c A. P. Morris...... EAD SHor. By Col. “+ #*eete 10¢e 10c 10c Ss) J00! - fo.