Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 23 — page 1: what you’re looking at

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

— : i ry 8 ; s 4 FEPEPELEEESLA EASELS ABIL PS AYESD I eae ee ee” Vol. II. Published Every Two Weeks, The Red Warrior; Stella Delorme’s Comanche Lover, BY NED BUNTLIN E, AUTHOR OF ‘‘ THAYENDANEGEA,” “ THE WHITE WIZARD,” ‘‘ THE SEA BANDIT,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I. THE great camp of the Comanches was pitched in a wild and picturesque gorge of the Sierras Charrate, where the waters of the Rio Pecos bounded, all glittering, from their rocky source. The ornamented lodges of tanned buffalo-skin rose thick—like the houses of a large village—in a small basin carpeted with grass and flowers, which had been hollowed out by Nature’s hand between the lofty moun- tains; and the smoke of the watch-fires rose like misty pillars in the still air. e moon was at its full; and though the hour of sunrise was yet to come, all around seemed clear as gg ge transparent was the atmosphere, so cloudless the sky. To and fro, in front of the narrow entrance to the gorge, where their eyes could scan the vast extent of prairie to the east, rode the sentinels of the camp; and within, picketed so as to be ready for instant use, in case of alarm, were the wild steeds of the Indian braves. It would have been a study for a painter, that camp! Hi on either hand rose the great dark cliffs, with vines and shrubs clinging here and there to their rough, pre- cipitous sides; down them rushed silvery cascades— sometimes leaping off into a cloud of spray again trickling in light gem- drops down into the mossy beds below. be — picturesque amphitheatre at the foot of the rocks, now tented over for a foreground, would com- plote the picture. [t was not yet the hour of dawn, when a wild, shrill yell was heard from the large central lodge of the camp. It was the war-whoop, and scarce had its fearful echoes rung from cliff to cliff of the when full two hundred warriors bounded out into the open air armed with guns, lances, bows, shiel and war-clubs. And with the shrill vee still quivering on | ! rave son of their | Chief of the Comanche must never defile his his lips, young Lagona, the WENT, F NRMAN EDERAL A TERE EEE | td LIPTP TTT ITIL TTT a de MAA “¢ A a ——————— + . Geadle G¢ Adams, \ . 3 SS} }} ca ail i < iy Hy i A Shu My | ts | Kl | | | S. wl r ne | lit 0 A Mt ~% ‘lie ura md NN CT PPB NEL ERIE BF £ Hi hgh! Me 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. **What is the matter? Why sounded the war-whoop?’ asked Nemahaha, his father, as he stood by the side of his son, whose whole frame was quivering with excite- ment, “The Great Spirit has spoken to me in a dream!” said the young brave, growing more calm. ‘Let the warriors go back to their lodges! I will tell my father that which I dreamed, and I will take counsel of him, for there is wisdom in his heart!” The wondering warriors obeyed, for the will of Lagona was law to them. By his deeds of daring he had won their love and respect. And again all was quiet in the camp, ‘* What did the Great Spirit show to Lagona in the land of dreams?” asked Nemahaha, when the two were alone. ** A maiden of the pale-faces, more beautiful than all the flowers of the earth, about to be ~~ “S, : oF = sy = tf : ad = a _— aS THE RED WARRIOR. sacrificed by the Lipans. And the Great Spirit told Lagona to mount and rescue the maiden, and take her to his own bosom!” The old warrior shook his head and seemed annoyed, when his son uttered these words. ‘The dream is not i!” said he. ‘*The has Lagona and leadin ed them not. —_— a* - J ° eae aig or ie eo s ~~ = ’ Pos i = + — iake ieee /—_ ee SS ~ a men — 4 . wo & \ 50 lg | IN I@>Ss,8yY BEADLE! & ADAMS. SD ASS Grb/ ushers, . 8 ne Ten Cents a Copy. $2.50 a Year, — -o—_____— “Friend or foe, Lagona knows no fear, or feels no love for them!” said the young chief. And arming himself hastily, but complete- ly, he went to the pickets pg LB two powerful and spirited horses—one white as snow, the other black as night. Mounting one the other, he rode forth from the gorge at full speed—-halting only for a moment to tell the guard that he wished no followers, and desired that the camp should not be broken up until his return. The dew lay bright upon the prass-blades and the flowers through which he sped; and the startled ouse, and deer, and antelope, fled right and left as he rode on—but he heed- His course was laid for the Rio San Saba, where he knew that a large body of tamed, from a foray into Texas, were en- cam CHAPTER II. Bounp for the sacrifice ~—robed for the bridal of death—yet so beautiful! A maiden of not more than en years—with a face faultless in feature, an eye blue as the cloud- less heavens—long, glossy hair of golden hue, in which, as if in mockery of her woe, gay feathers had been twisted—was bound to a blood-red stake in the center of the Lipan camp; robes of snowy white, such as she would have worn at a bridal, in the sunny home from which she _~ been we, were upon her rless fori, and rich Pt were on her neck: her cheek was white as the drifted snow for hope had departed from her soul. There was no sign of mercy in the painted faces of the sav- age warriors who yelled and danced around her— no hope from the yet more merciless of her own sex who jeered and derid her because she trembled in her helpless agony. The fagots were ig about her feet—the tor- ment was now about to commence. With a blaz- ing torch in his hand Pekito, a& young chief of the Lipans, approach- ed from the circle of yelling demons that sur- rounded her; and as —. became silent, he sai ° “The warriors are tired of dancing and sing- a is the turn of the pale-faced squaw now! Pekito would hear her sing: her screams would be music to his ears, for he lost a brother by her father’s hands!” ‘ mt he bent down to touch the torch to the head chief, sprang from his lodge, with his pen- | blood by mixing it with the mud of the pale- noned lance in his hand—that lance whereon | faces. The eyes of my son were in a fog—he were more scalp-notches, now, than could be | did not see right!” counted on the weapon of the oldest brave in| ‘Nothing evil t ere this was done, swift, like the swooping eagle when it descends —- its prey, a horseman bounded through the dusky in of warriors, comes from the Great | riding a fiery steed as white as the foam which the tribe. . Spirit!” said Lagona, quietly, but firmly. | flew from its bitted mouth, and leading another, He was tall, formed like an Apollo, with | ““He led me to the land of dreams, and I | blacker than the clouds of night. noble features, and eyes wherein shone the fire | will do His bidding! I will to the Lipans! ese hes he reined up beside the sacri- ficial fire, then he ousted to the earth, and with one blow of his broad-bladed knife, set the rsecuted maiden free from the bonds which een COMLGDOOKS.CO | | form. of a true warrior. The war-eagle feathers | If I find there a pale-f maiden doomed were twined in his scalp-lock, and more than | to die—she is mine, and I will take her to my one scar upon his broad breast told that he | breast!” had not passed unscathed through the storm! ‘ Let Lagona have a care—the Lipans are our of battle. But there were no scars on his back. friends,” said the old chief.