Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 218 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

"RRC ng _“ Y°u've riz my dander; an’ y’u've got to fight for 1)” ‘But surely—’’ : ‘Stop y’ur palaver! By the ‘tarnal airthquake Ill ’gin to t you air a coward! | thort ye'd show the white feather afore ‘twur over.”’ ‘Enough!’ cried I, st by the taunt; “I am ready for you, one way or the other. Go on.” The squatter once more entered his cabin, and soon came out again, bringing forth the pieces of venison. ‘‘ Now!” cried he, “‘ to y’ur stand, and remember, neyther fires till a bird flies. Arter that, ye may g» it like blazes!” “Stay!"’ said I; “there is something yet to be done. You are acting honorably in this affair— which I acknowledge is more than I was led to ex- yect, You deserve one chance for your life; should fall it will be indanger. You would be re- garded asa murderer. That must not be.” The Wild Huntress, —— me ee - 2 who seemed startled at some sound from the forest. and if | ‘What is’t you mean?” hurriedly interrogated my © antagonist, evidently not comprehending my words. Without answering to the interrogatory w out my pecket-book, and, turning to a blank leaf of the memorandum, wrote upon it: ‘‘T have fallen in fair fight.” | appended the date, signed my name, and, tearing eut the leaf, handed it to my adversary. He looked at it for a moment, as if puzzled to make out what was meant. He soon saw the intention, however, as I could tell by his grim smile. ‘* You’re right ur!” gaid he, in a drawling tone, and aftera pause. ‘‘I hedn’tthunk o’ that. I guess this decky ment ‘ll be nothin’ the wuss 0’ my name, toe? What's sauce for the goose air likewise sauce for the gander. Y’ur pencil, ef ye please? I ain't much of a scholart; but I reck’n I kin write my name, Hyur goes!’ Spreading out the paper on the top of a stump, he slowly scribbled his name below mine; and then, holding the leaf before my eyes, pointed to the sig- uature—but without saying a word. This done, he replaced the document on the stump, and drawing his knife, stuck the blade through the pene: and left the weapon quivering in the wood! All these maneuvers were gone through with as cool com- posure as if they were only the prelude to some or- dinary purpose. ‘‘T reck’n, strenger,”’ said he, in the same imper- turbable tone, ** that'll keep the wind from blowin’ it away, till we’ve settled who it’s to belong to. Now te yur place! I’m agwine to throw the deer-meat!” Almost at the same instant I heard a responsive neigh, as if it were an echo from behind me. I heeded neither the one nor the other. I saw that the birds were aroused from their lethargic attitude. Some of them appeared as if pressing upon their limbs to spring upward from the tree. The deadly moment had come! _. With my rifle raised almost to the level, I glanced rapidly toward my antagonist. His piece was also raised; but, to my astonishment, he a geet to be grasping it mechanically, as if hesitating to take aim! His glance, too, showed irresolution. Instead of being turned either upon myself or the vultures, it was bent in a different direction, and regarding with fixed stare some object behind me! I was facing round to inguire the cause when f[ heard close at hand the trampling of a horse; and almost at the ee ee ee ee eee ee iO Cee —— ih | 7 thin spare body, less than medium hight; and fea- tures tly marked with the Yar sinister. A face | without n of cadaverous hue—nose sharp- ' ’ | same instant, an exclamation, uttered in the silvery | tones of a woman's voice. This was followed by a wild scream; and, simultaneously with its utterance, | I beheld a female form springing over the bars! It was that of a young girl, whom I recognized at a | ‘ | the Gospel minister is usually received in the houses glance. It was she I had encountered in the forest! Thad not time to recover from my surprise before the girl bad glided past me; and I followed her with my eyes, as she ran rapidly over the space that separated me from the squatter. Still mute with surprise, Isaw her fling-herself on the breast of my antagonist—at the same time crying out in a tone of passionate entreaty: ‘Father, dear father! what has he done?. Mercy! Oh mercy!” “G God! her father? Holt her father?” “Away, Lil!’ cried the man in a aad eet tone, removing her arms from his neck. ‘* Away, gurl! git ye from hyur!” ““No, father! dear father! vou will not? What does it, mean? What has hedone? Why are you angry with him?” “Done, gurl? He’s called me coward; an’ ‘ud drive us out 0’ house an’ home. Git ye gone, I say! Into the house wi’ ye!—away?”’ ‘* Mercy! Oh father, have mercy! Do not kill him. He is brave—he is beautiful! If you knew’’— ‘* Brave? beautiful?—gurl, ye’r’ ravin’! What do you know about him? Ye’ve niver see’d him afore?” ‘Yes, dear father! only an hour ago. If you but knew—it was he who saved me. But for him— Father! he must not—be shall not die!” I had already dismounted, and stood near him rifle | in hand. Unresistingly I obeyed the ng Sor and walked off to the stump that had been designated witheut saying another word, or even looking around. I had ne apprehension of being shot in the back, for the late behavior of the man had completely dis- armed me of all suspicion of treachery. I had not the slightest fear of his proving a traitor, and no more did I hold him to be a coward, That impres- sion was gone long ago, ‘‘Saved ye? What do ye mean, gurl’” ‘* Hilloo! what's all this rumpus?” The familiar ejaculation, and its adjunct interrog- _atory, admonished me that a new personage had appeared upon the scene, _The voice came from be- hind. On turning, I beheld the unexpected speaker —a man on horseback, who had ridden up to the ' bars; and having halted there was craning his neck I arrived at the stump, and, turning on my heel, | stood facing him. the joint of venison in one hand and his long rifle in the other. The moment was nigh when one of us should make an abrupt exit from the world! ‘*Now, mister!’ cried my antagonist in a clear voice, “I’m agwine to chuck the meat. Remember, neyther’s to fire till a bird takes wing.”’ saw him swing the joint once or twice round bis head; I saw it jerked aloft, and then whirlin through the air; I saw it falling—falling, till the Sod: den sound told that it had reached the ground, It was a fearful moment! CHAPTER XV. THE DUEL DELAYED. FuLu five minutes passed, and not one of the vul- tures showed signs of stirring—five minutes of pro- longed and terrible suspense. “It was odd that the birds had not at once swooped down upon the piece of venison: since it lay conspicuously upon the ground—almost under the tree where they were perched! Ascoreof them there were—ranged along the dead limbs—each with an eye keen of sight as an le’s! Beyond doubt, they observed the ob- ject—they would have seen it a mile off, and recognized it too—why, then, were they dis- regarding it—a circumstance so contradictory of their natural instincts and habits, that, even in that dread hour, I remarked its singularity? The cause might have been simple smonee paren the birds had already glutted themselves elsewhere? Some wild beast of the woods—more likely some straying ox—had fallen a victim to disease and the summer heats; and his carcass had furnished them with their morning’s meal? There was evidence of the truth of this, in their blood-stained beaks and gorged maws, as also the indolent attitudes in which they roosted—many of them so phoned asleep! Others at intervals stretched forth their necks, and half spread their wings; but only to yawn and catch the cooling breeze. Not one of all the listless flock whe the slightest me ition to take wing. : ere were severa in the air, whee high aloft; and two or threé had just joined chale companions—increasing the cluster upon the tree. These had arrived, after we had taken our stand; and others were constantly com down. But the signal mutually agreed to was mutually understood: it was the departure of one of the birds —not its arrival—that was to give the cue of entres to the tragic act—the signal for the scene of death. ose five minutes to me appeared fifty. In sullen silence we eye each other, with scintil- lating glances, watching for the si The situation was more than unpleasant. I longed for the finale. My antagonist also showed signs of He was already in his place—with | | hi i ——_——- into the inclosure—gazing upon the scene that was being enacted there, with a singular half-comic, half-satirical expression of countenance! CHAPTER XVI. THE PEACEMAKER. Wirnovt knowing why, I hailed the arrival of this stranger as opportune. ded to the entreaties i Va fair young creature— still urgent in my behalf—might oo the effusion of blood. Indeed, I had already determined that none should be tg by me—let the consequences beas they might; and whatever was to be the cde- nouement of this awkward affair, I had resolved that my rifle should have naught to do in deciding it. The piece had fallen to the “‘ order arms;” the ill- Omened birds had forsaken their perch; and, now soaring in the blue sky, almost beyond the reach of human vision, their movements were no longer heeded—neither by my adversary nor myself. Turning away from the stranger—whom I had only ly pointed—chin and forehead both receding—eyes small, but sh cog aa those of a ferret—and long lank k hair, inly shading. his cheeks and brows—were the prominent characteristics of this man’s portrait. is dress was of a clerical cut and color—though not of the finest fabric. The coat, trousers, and vest were of black broad-cloth—the coat and waistcoat being made with standing collars, similar in style to those worn by Wesleyan minis- ters—or more commonly by Catholic priests—while a white cravat not over clean anda hat with curving boat-brim, completed the saintly character of the costume. Judging from his personal appearnace, I concluded that I saw in the individual before me the Metho- dist minister of Swampville. If so, it would account for the obsequiousness of his host, though not satis- factorily. There was something more than obse- quiousness in Holt’s manner—something altogether different from that deferential respect, with which : of the humbler classes. Moreover, the character of the squatter—such asI had heard it, end such as I had myself observed it to be—bore ho correspon- dence with the attitude of reverence he had so sud- denly assumed. F.ven under the hypothesis, that the new-comer was his clergyman, I was puzzled by his behavior. He in the ecclesiastica] costume Spear to be a man of few words; and of gestures he made a like limited use; having passed me, without even the courtesy of abow. On the contrary, I was honored with a glance of cynical regard—so palpable in its expression, as to cause an itching in my fingers, notwithstanding the saintly gown. I contented my- self, however, with returning the glance, by one | intended should bear a like contemptuous ¢xpres- sion; and, with this exchange, we separated from each other. I remained by my stand, without offer- ing remark—either to the squatter or his guest. The only change I effected in my tain” was to sit down upon the stump—where, with my rifle between my knees, I resolved to await the issue. All idea of using the weapon had ne out of my mind—at least against Hickman Holt. Hewes /er father: I would as soon have thought of turning its muzzle to my own wage I tarried, therefore, with no hostile intention. On the contrary, I only waited for an opportunity to propose some pacific arrangement of our difficulty; and my thoughts were now directed to this end, i had every chance of observing the movements of the two men; since, instead of entering the cabin, they had stopped in front of it—where they at once became engaged in conversation. Perhaps his presence, ad- | regarded for a second or two-—-Ifaced again to the | more interesting tableau in front of me. was rapidly undergoing a change. The squatter no lenges: clung to his rifle, The girl had taken it from s hands; and was hurrying with it into the door of That, too, | the cabin. There was no hindrance made by my | antagonist! On the contrary, he appeared to have delivered it over to her—as if the affair between us I took it for granted that I was myself the subject; but, after a time, I began to fancy I was mistaken. Judging from the earnest manner of both—but more especially from Holt’s tures and frequent ejaculations—something of still greater interest ap- peared to be the theme of their dialogue. Isaw the squatter’s face suddenly brighten up—as if some new and joyous revelation had been made to him: while the features of his visitor bore the satisfied look of one who was urging an argument with suc- Cé@SS, , They were evidently talking of some topic beyond my affair, and unconnected with it; but what it could be I was unable even to guess. Perhaps, had I listened more attentively, I might have arrived at some knowledge of it—since words were occasionally uttered aloud—but my eyes were busier than my ears: andat that moment, neither the squatter nor his guest was the subject of my thoughts. Beyond them was the attraction that fascinated my gaze—that thing of roseate golden hue, whose shin- ing presence seemed to light ma" the dark interior of the cabin—gleaming meteor-like through the in- terstices of the logs—now softly moving from side to side, and now, thank Heaven! gliding toward the door! Only for a moment stood she silently on the stoop—one smiling moment and she was gone. Her fair face was once more hidden behind the r de was to have a pacific termination, or, at all events, | a respite. What surprised me more than all was the altered demeanor of my adversary. His whole manner seemed to have undergone a sudden chan Sud- den it must have been, since it had taken place ina second or two, while my attention was occupied by the newly arrived horseman. What still SS urther | astonished me, was, that this transformation was | evidently himself! Thatit was not due to the young girl's in- terference, I had evidence already. That had not moved him fora moment. Her earnest appeal had received a repulse—energetic and decisive, as it was rude; and of itself would certainly not haye saved me. Beyond doubt, then, was I indebted to the stranger for the truce so unexpectedly entered upon, The change in Holt’s demeanor was not more sudden than complete. At first, an air of astonish- ment had been observable; after that, an expression of inquietude--becoming each moment more marked, _ No longer did he exhibit the proud aspect of a man, _who felt himself master of. the ground; but, on the contrary, appeared cowed and quailing in the pres- ence of the new-comer—whom he had met at the entrance, and atonce invited into the inclosure. roduced by the presence of the stranger | ee This manner was observable in the half-mechanical | | Gour test, with which he removed the bars, and took | hold of the stranger’s horse—as also in some phrases of welcome, to which he gave utterance in my hearing. impatience. No longer preserving his statue-like | posé, his body began to sway from side to side; while at intervals he stamped the ground with his heavy heel. From the increasing anger that be- trayed itself in his looks, I expected an explosion. It came at length. ’ ‘Durn them buzzarts!” cried he, with a hurried gesture, “th’ar’ agwine to keep us stannin’ byur till sundown. Durn the sleepy brutes! we can’t wait no longer on.’em. I dare ye—”’ The challenge thus commenced was hever com- pleted—at all events, I did net hear its conclusion, and know not to this hour what he meant to have proposed. His speech was interrupted, and his voice drowned, by the shrill neighing of my horse— ee For myself, I was no longer regarded, any more than if [ had been one of the dead-woods that stood around the iclearing. The Pagers passed, without even looking at me—his whole attention pene pl absorbed by the new arrival! It was natu Should regard with curiosity an individual, whose presence had produced such a wonderful effect; and my scrutinizing gaze may have appeared rude engqugh to him. I cannot say that he elicited my admiration. On the contrary, his appearance pro- dueed an opposite effect. I beheld him with what Jjolousie of the logs; but the smile remained. It" was mine; and lingered long within the trembling tem- ple of my heart. CHAPTER XVII. YES—YES! Towarp the interior of the hut hallowed by such lovely presence, I continued to direct my glances— with an occasional side-look, noting the movements of the two men. Whatever had been the exciting topic of discourse but the moment before, I saw that it was now changed; and that I was myself the sub- ject of their conversation. This I could tell by their ooks and geslures—evidently bearing upon me and my business. onscious that I was observing them—and as if desirous of conferring more privately—they passed round to the rear of the cabin; where for the time they were out of my sight, as well as hearing. So far from 1 tting this movement, it was just what I desired ; it left me free to continue the pleasant es- pionage in which I had become engaged. Now more boldly my eyes explored the dark in- terior of the hut—more freely roamed my glance along the interstices of the logs. Gladly should I have gone up to the doorway—fain would I have been to enter—had I not been restrained; but deli- cacy, and something more stood in the way: and I was forced to keep my ground. Again I saw the bright form flitting within. Gliding gently across the floor—as if on Og and by stealth—the young girl. stood for a while near the back-wall of the cabin. Close behind this, the two men were con- versing. Did she go there to listen? She ht easily hear what was said: I could myself distin- guish the voices, and almost the words. . She remained motionless; and, as I could judge, in an attitude of attention—her head lowered, might be termed an instinct of repulsion: since I | no precise reason for the dislike with | cou which he had inspired me on sight. € was a man of about thirty years of age; ofa , her body bent slightly forward. Iwas forming con- jectures as to her motive, when I saw her moving away from the spot. In another instant, she a peared in the doorway—this time evidently with some design, as her manner clearly betokened. For a moment she stood upon the stoop, fronting te- ward me—but with her face averted, and her. eyes by a side-glance directed toward the rear of the hut. Ske appeared to look and listen—as if noting the position of the men; and then, seemingly satisfied (E{ 900) Com <S