Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 22 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

a eae safety. } mornin’, if you don't sleep with one eye open, ‘on ye, too. .gng in the forest. “Nattie, of the Ten Mile Trace!’ answered Kerly. Whitelaw. ad Bernard and his more experienced companion. | glowing descriptions they had heard of the beau \ gazed at her in silence. The object of their.at- | ty and fertility of the “She is beautiful, indeed!’ murmured the | tention was unconscious of their nearness. She | yeung man. ‘Too fair, too good for such com- | sighed and wept, and bewailed her fate in a mel- panionship.; I wonder where she came from, | and way.ane is here? There is mystery around | whispered Kerley. her, lph Quimby is a bad man. She must be withdrawn from his guardianslip.” “ Whatever you do, look out for your own You'll find yourself murdered some like a cat,’’ “Don't forget to inelude yourself in the same risk.) If,I can interpret the meaning of thie miner's eyes at all correctly, he won't soon for- get you You gave him an ugly fall, moun- taineer.” “Do yow think I’m blind, boy? Have I trampe:! the wilderness thirty year for nothin’ ? Kid Kerly knows when the devil's in @ man. I’ve an. eye and an ear for him. Wah!” CHAPTER X. v's MARY DANTON, “ Let us walk,” said Bernard. “There has been, a great change in the atmosphere. The air is heavy and oppressive. Speak to me, mountaineer.” Kid, Kerly threw back, according to his cus- tom, the tanvled masses of his long hair from his tanned forehead. There was a sympathetic enn in his sagacious eyes. The man hadn't ived for nothing ; he had learned many things hidden from move pretentious people. His years ot. intimacy with simple Nature had taught him much, that a higher degree of civilization had not conferred upon those who laid higher claims to. knowledge. He quietly threw the lock of his rifle under his right arm, supporting the barrel with the hand of the same, cust a searching look at the sky, at mother earth, which his tireless feet. had pressed for so many years, then con- sidering Bernard a moment, answered : “ Good! Jet us walk; it’s what I like; it won't harm ye. But theair, youngster, hasn't chang- ed; it's the sume: the change is in you. We don't often see things as they really be; we only see what's inside, Wah!’ “ There’s a dread upon me,” returned Ross. “Some'at more; the witchery of Nattie ie Well, that isn’t oncommon. You come out to old Superior, perhaps, with a vision o’.gold.in your heal; and now it’s a vision o’ woman. I have had them kind o’ sights my- self.” . “You?” “Ay! red Injun — nothin’ but Red Injun! But sich a speciment! Mayhap you don’t be- lieve in red loveliness? Wasn't she a beauty, though! Put tovether in sich shape! Wah!’ Bernard Jooked at his companion, and, me- chanically shouldering his rifle, followed him. “ Don’t be downeast,” added Kerly. “ These diseases workyout their own cure. Exercise is ‘what you want; keep your blood stirrin’, and there’s no feminine that can harm ye.” The mountaineer moved through the woods, and Ross trod in his footsteps. He was not afraid; he had as sma)! a share of coward bleod as any one; but there sas wpon him a boding certainty of insecurity, which, allied with the haunting fear for Nathalia, made him unbappy. So far as Kid Kerly was concerned, motion was a necessity of his nature, and he threaded the mazes of the forest with a confident and steady step. He perevived that there was a morbid ac- ‘tion in Bernard's mind, and wae willing to divert his though's, and act a friendly part. The young man warmed with walking. The farther he left behind the spot where he had en- countered the miner, the lighter he felt. “Stop!” said the mountaineer, suddenly. “Some livin’ eritter is near.”’ “T heard it.” Bernard replied. “It was the wind sighing in the trees.” “Wind? There isn't no wind! A squaw's breath would stir the leaves more. Be quiet!” Putting his ear to the ground, the mountain- eer jistened some minutes. He arose, and said: “It's hereaway. Come on, softly.” “I ean hear nothing,” replied Bernard. “In. course not!” returned Kerly. “Your head is full of Nattie, and that surly miner. Now I’i] show ye that we wild men of the moun- tains know some’at.”’ A short walk brought them to a emall open- erly paused, and pointed with his finger, and Ross beheld a female, sitting at the root of a tree, her face resting in her hands, her hair disheveled and trail ng over her shoulders, her garments torn, her feet bare and | bleeding. gor ancholy voice. “ ’Tisn't the wind soughin’ through the trees !” “No; who can the poor creature be? Let us hasten to relieve her.” Bernard spoke ina whisper; but, low as it was, the female looked up, and, seeing two men, sprang up with a ery of surprise: For a mo- ment she was o! viously agitated by conflicting emotions, not knowing whether to remain or fly. The countenance of Bernard. however, gave her courage. She stood with clasped hands, her person thrown forward, her eyes fixed earnestly on the strangers. *- Don’t be skeered,” said the mountaineer, ‘* We ain't woman-eaters, nor Sioux, nor Rapa- hos. We're el'ar white, and that's a fact.” “Then you'll take careof me, I'm sure? [’m lost, and in a miserable, miserable plight!” she answered, earnestly. | “T should say as much, young woman! You nok as if you'd had a long fast and a jong run in the woods. You're just about tore to bits.. Wah!” | ‘‘ Don’t be afraid,” said Bernard. “ You have found friends who will take eare of you. What strange accident brought you here ?”’ The young woman—she was young—advanced a step, tottered, and sank tv the earth. ‘That gal’s pootty much done for,” said Ker- : ‘* There's @ pale face for ye, I reckon. Seé them tender feet, and then’ white hands! No squaw ‘bout them. She isn’t used to trampin’ the woods, she isn’t. Her gown’s stripped into ribbens!” * if wo | “What shall we do for her?” asked Bernard, helplessly. ¥ “Lord, man! I can fetch her round in no time, pervidin’ the life hasn't clean gone out of on. We must fall back on the Aabituals, lad, Vitality is what she wants, and where shall we find that if ‘tisn't in the nat’ral elements. . While I clap this flask to her little mouth, do you gather some dry sticks and strike a fire ; she must have warmth and food as well as drink.” “ Carefully, carefully, mountaineer! Don’t use her too roughly,” cautioned Bernard, as Kerly raised the young woman’s head, and wet her lips with some drops from his flask. ‘“Don’t talk to me!” he answered. ‘In the calico line I’m as ey asa mother. I don't take hold «f her like a grirzly,do1l? Don't I}. know that they're tender, and must be handled keerfully like chany tea-sets ? They're made of finer airth, and are a sight brittler nor we he- critters be. We want tougher ware up im the mountains. Traps and trapsacks! but thie here is a long faint. There's no breath on her lips that I ean feel.: Her natar's different from imine. Why! put this flask to my lips, if I’s right on the p’int o’ desolation, ’twuuld thrill my perves like a ’lectric eel !” Full of sympathy, Bernard ran and chafed ‘or bands and arms. He noticed that her skin w ; very white, and her facefair: He began to ‘v sieve her really dead, when a slight motion of the lips, aud a scarcely perceptible tremor of her person, proved that the vital spark was not yet extinct. ‘‘ She swallows! she swallows! She’s comin’ —ecomin’! Good! She’s shivery enough, though, See to your fire, lad. "Tisn't very eold, but her blood is so thinned by starvin’, that she needs a heap o’ warmth.” ‘Lhe young woman was final- ly restored to animation, but not to conseious- ness. A fire was built, near which she was placed, on a soft couch of boughs. The heat, together with the stimulant administered by the mountaineer, reyived her wonderfully ; but she continued too weak to converse. Leaving her in charge of Bernard, Kerly went in pursuit of game, returning before a great | | est. had joined a smal) arty of adventurers in quest of homes and haph srieed in that wild region. She had accom- panied them, full -of delightful aniicipations of the romance of the flowering wilderness, where Nature herself seemed to minister to the wants of man in an: eminent degree. They plunged boldly into the solitudes of Minnesota. They were charmed with the rich soil, the noble for- ests, the beautiful rivers and lakes of ‘that coun- try. Their hopes were doomed to sad dis" p- pointment. they were attacked by a party of Indians. The woods resounded with frightful yells. ri Danton was mounted »pon a young and spirit! horse. which was terrified by the savage din, and dashed* madly away with vits fajr rider. Her steed bore her far before his strength was spent; und when his speed at length abated, she was many miles from the scene of the onset, and ir- retrievably lost. Night, too, dark and lonely, came to add to the distress of her situation. » Dismounting from her now panting and trem- © bling horse, she experienced for the first time the absolute terror of complete isolation. cried aloud for help; herclear voice rang through the’ vast solitude. ‘The far-off slriek of a pan- ther answered her, She did not repeat the ex- periment. “For companionship, she kept close to the horse; there was comiort in his dumb presence. and was glad to see him gradually recover from his fright, and devour the foliage within his reach. In the morning, she led him to a stream, when, having drank eagerly, he threw back his ears, whiniied, and eroppei the tender verdure on the bank. How it giaddened Ly r to see him evince these signs of returning strength and spirit! She mounted, and gave lim the rein ; but the animal was as much at fault as herself, She knew not which way to direct him, and as her; in which case there'd be nothin’ to build | ————— —— is generally the case with lost persons, went ex- actly find her, if they survived, or she should by ae- cident discover them, But this expectation gradually grew Jess and less. For three days she wandered helplessly, subsisting upon such wild berries as chance threw in her way. On tle fourth morning; she found herself too weak to pursue and mount her horse, which had wan: dered off in the night.. It was at the close of that, day, that, she was. discovered by Bernard — and the mountaineer. CHAPTER XI. INQUIRIES FOR NATTIE. Ralph Quimby returned to the lodge where he had Jeft Nathalia, ina temper by. no means desirable. He felt no little doubt in regard. to the influence Stratton might ultimately exer- cise upon his purposes, . Lie could make use, of him, at present, it was true ;. but he felt. an un- ‘comfortable fear of his resentment when. he . should find that he had been, trifled with, and used merely as an instrument to forward his—. Ralph’s—schemes. ) He entered the lodge... “ Nathalia!”’ No one answered. * Asleep, I s'pose,”’ ‘he said, | It was dim. in the lodge, andthe blinding glare of the sunshine. was upon Ralph's eyes; | every object was blurred for a moment. | “Get up, Nattie! It isa't good for you to be so stupid.” > noe wert There was no reply. He approaclied the couch and ste ped over it. | “ Not here; go'e out.” | ; He now observed that the fire had burned out, and, the brands were lying eoll and black. A suspicion crossed his mind. He hastened from the hut-and ¢alled her. vd ~~ “Wandering round aa girls always. are! Fainted away somewhere, perhaps.” i He walked arunnd the lodge several times, while with some birds, one of which h- prepared _ Widening the diam ter lof the cirele each time. and roasted with the greatest. eare, giving to his patient the choicest: and tenderest portions, which she ate with avidity. It was now near sunset, and it was manifestly impossible to convey the young woman. tothe miners hut that night; so the two men’set themselves at work, and soon built a camp to shelter her until she was alJe to walk, and make known her wishes, Her body refreshed, and her mind relieved from fears, she sank inte a tran- ’ ' | ' > | | No Nattie, of course. His suspicions tovk @ positive character. ef Ltn. “Taken flight!’ he muttered, »“ Fled! Wants to bre+k her fetters. But what ean she do? It is plain enough ; she hasw't strengtl to go far; I shall find her somewhere within half a mile cireuit.” ) Ralph punsed to reflect again, His face grew suldenly troubled andiangry.: * Perhaps shes had help! "L hat young Ross may have been bere. Would she go with him, uil sleep, which lasted through the night. In I wonder? Yes.wvith the dev Loto get awny the morning she was able to give a connecta:! | from me! If he's the man, I lave @ hound lo account of erself. Her name was Mary Dan- scent him—one that will bite as well as. bark ton. Her father and brother, enticed the | Vu unleash Nat Stratton. Tbere was never @ S Toward the close of a sunny day, She . She held him by the bridle all night, « wrong. She trusted her friends would - (E(o) ECON MICE OKOKO) fl cal — ~<a eae nena