Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 293 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

Stampede Steve. never saw Indians, and would stampede at the charge of such a strong war-party.” ‘* | reckon ye’re ’bout kerrect, Steve; an’ hit ’u'd be a pity ter run ’em inter sich a lay-out o’ hellyuns. Git, ole nag! Mebbe so this air ther last time Ill straddle yer.” This last remark was made by Bob Barr to his horse, Steve still gazing ahead most anx- iously, as they dashed headlong around the curve in the Rio Frio, and a far western view was thus opened. But, there was nothing there to back that view. ‘‘The miscreants have crossed to the Leona,” exclaimed the young scout, “‘I really do be- lieve! “ What, oh, what will become of my darling? ‘‘Bear me, ob, bear me on, my noble steed to her side, even though a thousand red and yel- low demons surround her!” Bob saw that his pard was getting to be more and more. excited each mile. His eyes were laring, and his strength seemed to be gathered oragreat shock; his teeth, at times, grinding with the intensity of bis emotions, At times he cast a look at Bob, that was ex- pressive of the misery that ruled him; a look that the teamster could not bear to meet, but masticated his tobacco vigorously, and expec- torated spitefully in the direction of the Apaches. Soon they were west of the confluence of the rivers, and immediately after crossed the Frio, speeding on over the triangular prairie toward the southwest, Steve in his mind calculating the distance traveled by the Apaches, and aim- ing to strike a point as nearly in their vicinity as was possible. When within a mile of the Leona, the scout suddenly halted and called out in great excite- ment: ‘*See! there is the wagon-trail. The move- ments of the outlaws have been just as I rea- soned !” ‘*Skute!” was the prompt rejoinder. ‘‘ I’m with you, Steve, dang my ole heart ef I ain’t, till I’m called!” And over the clearly-defined trail, where wheels and hoofs had whisked the dew from the tall grass, on went the determined rescuers, sparing not spurs, and soon dashing into the ark shades that bordered the Leona. Then they both drew rein, and stole stealthily on, crossing the stream after passing the belt of timber on the north side. Between them and the Apaches there were now but a few hundred yards of trees and un- dergrowth. But witbin that space the outlaws, and the wagon with Dora, might be. If they were beyond on the plain the maiden would without doubt become a captive to the savages, Should this be, the young scout was also doomed, for he had resolved to attempt her sg and die with, rather than live without er. Dismounting and securing their horses, they went on with still more caution, on foot. Suddenly Steve clutched the arm of the team- ster. and whispered in bis ear. ‘‘The major’s horse! They are near at hand. Brace yourself, Bob, for a headlong charge, and ie don’t kill Broquier or his pard, Lasso ije! ‘Skip on,” was the reply. ‘I’m on the war- path!” Jerking bowies and revolvers, they now stole forward; but no men could be seen near the ani- mals, three of which they discovered. There were also three saddle-bags open on the ground, as if the owners had just left them, after partaking of their contents, Broquier and his .two confederates were be- fore them. , gazing toward the plain, and J: They were listening intent Well did Steve Speed know what they bad beard. It was the Apache war-party! The wagon was not to be seen, and the actions of the three ruffians indicated that it was on the plain. There was no time to lose. Dora, or death, must be the war-cry! Like hungry panthers leaping upon their prey, Steve and Bob sprung forward, and Bro- quier and Lije fell beneath the blows delivered with the revolver-butts of the infuriated aven- gers. The next moment Steve’s knife was buried to the hilt in the breast of Bill Bowers, “Tie the cusses up, and then away, Bob!” yelled the scout; ‘‘ Dora is on the plain, and so are the fiendish Apaches!” _ Instantly the count and Lije were bound fast to the trunks of trees with their own lariats, taken from their saddles. This was done so wares from ankle to neck, that escape was im- e, Both the miscreants were still senseless, Then, with a loud cry of, ‘‘To the rescue!” Steve rushed to the side of his horse, tore loose the lariat, sprung into his saddle, and drove urs. Bob Barr was not far behind, and both ed toward the timber. —_— eee OSS 0 OO ODD OO ee eee Pe :_—_0n80n—n ne TTC Sai wv ereconw09O}9N A The next minute, for the distance was short, a soul-torturing scene broke on the view of the two sworn avengers. Out on the plain, perhaps a mile from them, was the wagon, speeding back toward. the timber, having evidently turned about. The Mexicans were lashing the mules at terrific speed, while to the eastward, and quartering to cut the outlaws and wagon off, was the Apache war-party! The Indians were lashing their foam-flecked mustangs furiously; and, as Steve and Bob broke from the timber, the blood-curdling war- whoop, from nearly two bundred throats, shot through the night air, in exultation, and in awful power and meaning. CHAPTER XXX, DORA, OR DEATH. Nor an instant did Steve and Bob hesitate, although the scene and sounds were sufficiently horrible to oo the stoutest heart, Forward they galloped, toward the oncoming wagon and the miscreant Mexicans, In some manner Dora Dale bad freed herself from ber bonds, a not very difficult task, as it bad not been considered necessary to tie her wrists together. As she sprung to her feet the poor girl gazed in horror at the horde of war-painted Apaches, who now dashed toward the wagon in an over- whelming mass, At the very moment that Dora glanced to- ward the timber, out from the same dashed two horsemen, the mien and bearing of one proving him to be the man of all men to her—Stepben Speed, the Scout. For that brief instant a feeling of intense happiness crowded out all consciousness of the fearful dangers by which she was environed. Relief and joy inexpressible were hers. But the next moment a piercing sbriek of insupport- able horror rung out from ber trembling lips; for she fully realized that the brave and daring young man was galloping madly to death—. sveeding frantically, to die by ber side—thus, as never man before, proving his love, by rushing voluntarily to a terrible death! The scene was indeed a horrible one. The Mexicans, with set teeth, trembling lips and faces of a yellowish pallor, muttered prayers as they lashed their mules in frenzied gallop, the foam flying on all sides, In close pursuit, with fiendish. yells and whoops, dashed a perfect avalanche of mus- tangs, wild-eyed, and snorting with pain and frenzy. Upon them were the murder-mad rid- ers, with their flying hair and feathers—a sight never to be forgotten, as they seemed to fly over the grassy and moonlit prairie! But the one most grand and imposing feature of that terrible scene was the two daring Tex- ans galloping to certain death, each erect in his saddle, each with a desperate daring so strong- ly ruling him, that he scorned the fate to which he was rushing beadlong. The eyes of both were fixed upon the form of that angelic maid- en, Sg om, Boy the wagon, her wealth of hair flying free before her face. They were drown- ing all thought of self, and were resolved to die in avenging Dora’s terrible wrongs if rescue was impossible! Yetin the face of all these +S oman facts, it was not in the mental make-up of either Steve Speed or Bob Barr to be hopeless. They aimed to cut down the Mexicans, secure Dora, and then gal- lop west toward the timber, trusting in the com- arative freshness of their horses to distance the ellish horde, And nearer drew the three other at terrific bounds, the Apaches having the disadvantage in distance. But no eye-wit- ness could have decided with any accuracy what would be the actual ending of events so near at hand, except that the two Texans and the Greasers must meet before the Indians could get within fair bow-shot. But as these two parties were dashing toward each other, it was impossible to decide what would be the result. When, however, Steve and Bob reached a point where the features of Dora could be plainly discerned, her eyes fixed pleadingly yet lled with terror upon them—when they thus realized the awful position of the poor girl more fully, they thrust their revolvers more loosely beneath their belts in front, jerked their bowies and drove spurs, The Mexicans, appalled at the Apache war- whoops, and at the onward charge of the two Texans—it seeming to them more the act of madmen than of those having common sense —appeared incapable, or else undecided, as to what they should do. Seeing that the Texans were periling them- selves in order that they might if ible se- cure the captive maiden, the outlaws, as if by common consent, shot away from the wagon and mules, westward toward the river. The terrified mules, thus abandoned, circled —o and went galloping madly over the back trail. With fierce whoops and yells, the Apaches di- vided, one-balf speeding after the Mexicans, arties to each 25 and the other toward the wagon and the two Texans. The mules had been so unmercifully lashed, that they did not maintain, after starting over the open plain, the rate of speed as formerly, and consequently Steve and Bob fast closed up; but suddenly the mules swerved easterly, giv- ing the Apaches less ground to cover—and the crisis had come! No Jonger was there any hope in the breasts of our two friends that they could gain the tim- ber with Dora. The turning about of the mules had made this impossible. Death awaited them — - fate far worse than death for the captive gir But, to reach Dora, for one last farewell, was the one wish and hope remaining in the breast of Steve, and he yelled to his pard: “Fly, Bob! y! You may escape to tell them how Dora and I died, y and avenge us hereafter! ‘* Force Broquier to confess himself the author - of the crime he Jaid at the door of Major Dale. Go at once, Icommand you! Dora and I must die! Bob gave one look into Steve's eyes, and knew that the young scout would not attempt to save himself. Then it occurred to bim, that the Apaches might capture Dora and Steve, and there was still hope of their rescue. Could he escape he might lead a force on the trail, and they might yet be saved. Thera was one chance in a thousand. So Bob Barr obeyed, ardly had the teamster gone two hundred ards, tbe Apaches giving vent to their fury at is evident attempt to escape them—which it cones might be successful—when the hind axle-tree of the wagon parted from the body; the latter falling to-the earth, and Dora being hurled out upon the sward, | At the same time, one of the mules fell, and the fagged team came to a stop. A moment after, Steve sprung from his horse, caught up Dora’s senseless form, and laid her carefully beneath the wagon-body, between the hind part, which rested upon the ground, and the prostrate mule: in such a position that the hoofs of the Apache mustangs could not touch it. The young man then bounded upon bis horse, his face pale as death; but bis glance was keen, and vengeful, and bis mien daring. With a revolver in each hand, and a bowie between his teeth, he drove spurs, and dashed at full speed toward the oncoming horde of Apaches; guiding his horse by a pressure of either knee, Even that savage horde of merciless Apaches were so overcome with admiration at this ex- hibition, this desperate charge of one man— and he a hated pale-face—upon two hundred of their number, all of whom had arrows fitted to bow-string, that their vengeful yells were changed to whoops of admiration. But these were the last whoops that many of them ever gave. Stampede Steve thundered upon their front, spurts of fire marking his course, and the rattling reports of revolvers sending leaden balls tearing into the thickly-massed sava The mustangs plunged madly, when their death-stricken masters slip from the sad-: dles; their cries of agony filling the air, min- led with the crashing of boofs through tbeir - nes, as the animals trampled them in their ht! perfect cyclone of death marked Steve's charge, and when his revolvers were empty, he hurled them at the nearest Indians, c utched his bowie, and, like an avenging god, plunged further into the vortex of hideous war-painted braves; but a war club whirled through the air, and struck the are scout ape the hea while a knife pierced his shoulder, and he f among those whose war cries he had hushed forever! Not a brave bad bent bow, so grand, heroic, and imposing, had been the dash, to rev and death, of Stampede Steve. When he fell from his horse, among the red braves he had slain, and several young warriors sprung from their mustangs, with knives in hand, to scalp and mutilate him; then, a signal whoop from the chief caused them to remount, in seem- ing shame. n loud tones the Apache leader cried out: ‘* Heap big brav reat warrior! Fight like warrior. Fight like chief. Must die like chief. It isenough. Lone Wolf bas spoken!” At once the scene became changed. The mules were upnbarnessed, and the valu- — taken from the wagon and packed upon them, The dead were secured upon their mustangs, ‘and a bole was dug in the plain, at the direc- tion of the Apache chief. The hind axle-tree with its two wheels was rolled toward this hole, one of the wheels being then removed and the axle thrust into the hole. The whee] was cast into the wagon-body, and the heel of the tongue secured to one of the spokes of the wheel which had been left on the axle-tree and was some three feet above the ground. | Then one mule, which bad been reserved from tbe team, was hitched to the wagon- "COME cS 900 é ’ > cor A, . ‘ ' = » -_ — — 2 ’ > 7 - ¥ - — a Vm rae 8 Te sat a. . on ee ee a a —- ” 7. s * ; | ' - ts e = = ~ PUTAS ig Sit - as i . —