Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 293 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

‘brain, will but too soon occasi blessed with a fortitude such as the souls of the lost! the exultant whoops of the savage howling in terror, 26 tongue; the animal’s head being also secured to the tree of the wheel, further around, with a slack rope. This forced the mule, when in motion, to go round in a circle, revolving the wheel as it went, in the same manner as beasts are secured to cotton-gins or the old style of cider-mills. These arrangements were soon made. Then the senseless form of Stephen Speed was held by braves up to the wheel, on the opposite side from the mule. He was then bent crescent- like and tightly bound to the wheel, his face turned outward, thus causing it to be impossi- ble for him, when he regained consciousness, to see the mule, that might or might not be in motion, and making bim revolve with the wheel. The knowledge that the victim must for a long time suffer caused many, who would have clamored for a death-torture before their eyes, and in which all shonid take a hand, to utter complimentary ejaculations in regard to Lone Wolf, he being the originator of the strange but most excruciating and prolonged torture. The chief bad certainly kept his word, Stampede Steve was te die the death of a warrior, and one that would tax his fortitude to the utmost—a death of torture, so terrible that none could conceive of its torments. Bound io a most painfully-unnatural position, whirled about until bis brain would feel as though ten thousand needles were darting through it, his eyes like coals of fire, and_ his thirst too terrible to think of—thus was he left, to endure the scorching sun on the morrow, when his brain would seem as molten lead! No sooner bad their captive been thus satis- factorily secured than Dora Dale was placed in the arms of a mounted Apache, at an order from the chief. Tuen the wagon was set cn fire, and away went the Apache horde to- ward the Rio Leona, there to participate in the torture of the Mexican captives, taken, or supposed to have been, by the other portion of the war-party. Bob Barr was nowhere within view. High in air shot the forked and lurid flames of the burning wagon, snapping and seething and frightening the mule, that now rushed frantically around and around; whirling poor Steve Speed, still unconscious, but to whom this unconsciousness was a blessing unspeakable. Better for the brave scout to remain thus, than to revive, and see the flashing flames; to realize bis dread position, to suffer the tortures of the lost, to have bis brain torn and his beart broken with thoughts of poor Dora Dale—of Dora, either dead, or worse still, being borne afar to the Rio Pecos; that dread stream which, he knows, she will never re cross! Yes, better thus, senseless Steve! Than awaken to such torment and poignant anguish, ‘as the facts in connection with the seer eae zed become realized, or recalled to your demo on, Better thus, than awaken to tortures of the body, that, strong and sinewy as ew on earth can claim, must equal the agunies that convulse CHAPTER XXXI. THE TABLES TURNED. BRIEFLY will we relate the facts that oc- curred during the remainder of that eventful night. he portion of the Apache war- that had gone in chase of the outlaw os Rae always able to get more speed from a mustang than a Greaser can—succeeded in reaching the dark shades but a moment after the outlaws, Then followed fearful yells and whoops, as, in a long line, the Indians lashed their steeds, crashing through the undergrowth, and forcing the Mexicans to the river; the bank of which, at that point, happened to be high and steep. The horses of the outlaws refused to plunge over, regardless of the cruelly driven spurs. _Steel_pointed shafts now shot through the air, and cries of agony and terror mingled with e, which now closed in on the cut-throats of the Rio Grande. Not one of the Mexicans escaped that terrible volley of arruws, yet none were killed outright; although it would have been far better for ‘them had the shafts pierced their hearts. from their mustangs, und, and borne back to the verge of the timber; about the same time that Bob Barr, about a mile further west, shot into the timber, and escaped the Indians in pur- suit. On the ve of the timber, the successful Apaches balted, with the Mexican captives; all whom were badly wounded. - Then it was that the flames of the burning wagon shot upward, and those of the war-party who had bound Steve to the wheel, and had poor Dora in their midst, all came galloping to oin their comrades, their exultant whoops oining the others and filling the air. Three of the Apaches, wounded in some pre- vious fight, and who were in charge of the corpses of their comrades slain in the same They were drag ou are, and Stampede Steve. fight, also approached up the border of the tim- ber to join their fellow braves. From the course the Mexicans had taken in their desperate attempt at escape, entering the timber a mile or more above the pointat which they had emerged from it with the wagon, the two wretches, Broquier and Lasso Lije, were left alone in their misery, tied fast to tue tree- trunks, as Steve and Bob had left them. Had not the Apaches been confident that the Mexican outlaws had stolen the wagon, freight, mules and maiden from some ranch, and tbat they had been followed by the two Texans, ter would, without doubt, have examined the back trail of the party following the same, in hopes that other wagons might be in the vicinity. But, as they paid no attention to this, it proved that they had no suspicions in regard to other whites being in that retired section of the frontier. Had one of the braves passed through the Leona timber, and gazed over the triangular rairie which lay between them and the Rio rio, he would have seen, afar over that plain, a horseman, none other than Bob Barr, still urging his horse at terrific speed, nearly to the Frio timber. This might have aroused suspicions in the mind of an Indian; for why should Bob keep up such speed after gaining a safe distance from his enemie:, if he were not hastening for aid to rescue the captive girl? But luckily the Apaches had no spy out in any direction, probably as much from their having already, on account of being incum- bered with their dead, decided upon an im- mediate return to some favorite spot for the interment of the bodies—some cave that was considered by them ‘* Good Medicine,” When the war-party again came together there was no time wasted. The wounded Mexi- cans were bound upon their mustangs by the orders of Lone Wolf, the latter baving decided to postpone the torture until they should encamp. This would make it a protracted tor- ture to the captives, every bound of their mus- tangs causing agony from. the feathered shafts, which were allowed purposely to remain in their wounds, thus affording great pleasure on the gallop to the merciless Apaches of the Rio Pecos. Some delay was occasioned by the war- party’s seeking an easy point at which to descend the bank of the Leona to give their horses drink; and after the start, they were obliged to trave! slowly on account of the laden animals and the fagged state of their mustangs as well. ack to the one lone object on the broad moonlit. plain—the wheel of torture, upon whieh poor Steve Speed was bound—went the inted horde. The chief was evidently vain of he new and peculiar mode which he. bad in- vented, of sending his victim on the “‘ long dark trail,” with ample time to realize that such was his doom; and he wished those of his braves who had not been present at the time, to see the gratifying and singular spectacle. The wagon had, by this time, been consumed ; nothing buttheiron work, and a few smoking and smouldering embers remaining, When the war-party came up, the scout was still senseless, and the affrighted mule had already worn a deep circular trail in the sward. The scene was a fearful one, and therefore gave great pleasure and satisfaction to the red torturers, who gave vent to their feelings in whoop and yell, Yet these sounds, so dread terrific, and roe toy were unheard by the victim who was bound on the wheel. For a time the paint-daubed demons sat their mustangs, gazing at tho frantic and foam- flecked mule; the eyes of the poor brute, blood- shot and glaring, and its tongue projecting from its mouth, on account of the thirst, which had been trebled by the heat of the flames—a thirst which must soon torture the human vic- tim as well. With a peculiar yell, Lone Wolf jerked jaw- strap, his quirt hissed about bis head, and away he shot to the westward, over the plain, followed by his war-painted braves; feathers and hair flaunting and flying wild, quirts hiss- ing and whacking, mustangs snorting and madly plunging onward; bearing their savage masters over the plain, while their yells of triumph filled the prairie air! Following close in the rear, galloped the wild- eyed mustangs, with their horrid ghastly bur- dens—their dead masters, whose last war-cries had sounded. Steve, the Scout, was left alone, upon the vast prairie; alone, in his agony of mind and body, when mind should recover from the ter- rible blow of the war-club. While, galloping toward the west, went those who bad con- demned him to that awful death; and, bearing in their midst the death like form of poor Dora Dale—she, too, unconscious for the time, thank God! of her dread surroundings, and of the doom to which ber lover and hero had been con- demned, And, while these scenes of horror bad been transpiring, slowly, up along the border of the timber, on the south side of the Rio Frio, rode an old man; his long gray hair disheveled, his / ee — a —— ee eee i | eyes bent on the ground in a stony stare, bis thin, pinched features the pallor of death! He was following the plain trail of the Apache war-party. There was an insane anguish stamped upon bis face that was torturing to behold. It was Major Duncan Dale, and he was mount- ed upon Nero, his daughter’s borse. Nero seemed, to a certain extent, to be aware that, not only bad he one upon his back that never before bestrode him, but one the very op- posite of his young mistress,.for the horse am- bled steadily along, his head erect, his eyes gaz- ing suspiciously into the dark shades, and out upon the plain. No playful tossing of the head and prancing did Nero indulge in, evidently realizing that such proceedings would be ill-timed on the present occasion. At times Major Dale would sit ereet in bis saddle, bis eyes would flash with fury, and his hand clinch, and be raised upward, as his lips moved in whispered prayer. _ Then he would sink, listless, forward, clutch- ing the saddle-horn to support hisswaying form ; and again he would fix that insane and stony stare upon the trail, as if he saw strange and harrowing pictures upon the trampled sward. Tous, on and on, along the Rio Frio timber- line, and up the border of the dark shades that marked the course of the Rio Leona; at length reaching a point where, had he gazed west- ward, he would have seen a dark mass, slow] moving over the moonlit plain toward the hori- zon line, 1 It was the Apache war-party, and bis darling, his only child, was in their midst! But the old planter saw notbing, except the sward beside Nero; not even that strange object to the south—the only break upon the plain—the circling mule, the wheel and the tortured vic- tim of Apache cruelty! But something at length caught the old man’s eye, and he straightened up in his saddle, jerked Nero toward the dense shades of the ona, and, for the first time, drove spurs, The major bad caught sight of the wagon- trail, as it had dasbed from the timber, in charge of the Mexican outlaws. Into the shades he dashed, but was brought to a balt by the sound of human voices in prayerful appeal; “For God’s sake, cut us loose!” ‘‘ Hyer we be, an’ Satan c’u’dn’t ba’ tortured us wuss! We're white, an’ hes Lin tied, an’ lef’ ter die, by ther cussed reds!” ‘* Quick, lsay! Cut us loose, will you?’ ‘“‘Shet yer mouth, Dick! Gi’n ther stranger a show ter think. Hit’s nat’ral fer him ter be skeered, er sot: back; bein’ yelped et this-a-way, when he didn’t spose any bumans war byer, in this pokerish hole—’spesbly in sich a fix!” Major Dale sprung from his borse. He bad been in shadow, but he now stepped within a bar of moonlight, opposite the two miscreants. He had recognized their voices! Both men now recognized him! The eyes of the wronged old man glared. The villains uttered yells of abject terror, Then, as the old planter had, on a previous occasion, sprung upon Bili Bowers, at the Rio Guadalupe, so bounded be now upon Broquier, his Jong: bony fingers clutching the ruffian’s nec Not a word spoke he, from the first. Black in the face, became the swarthy count; but, when choked to unconsciousness, the major removed his grip, and sprung to the front of Lasso Lije, who yelled: ‘Satan tortur’ yer! What did—” That was all. Then came dread sounds, as of a buman being dying in agony. These sounds lasted not long. Both Lije and Dick were nearly strangled. Then Major Dale threw himself upon the round, in tront of the two miscreants, bis el- ws on the sward, and his wild eyes fixed upon bis victims, | The cowardly wretches were in the power of the old man, whom they had so terribly wronged, Major Dale’s moment of victory and revenge had arrived; yet too late, for Dora, his darling daughter, was gone! CHAPTER XXXII. THE TORTURE ENDS. Bur not long Jay Major Dale u the sward, for he sprung erect, removed the equipments from Nero, and secured the neck-rope to a sap- ling; giving the horse ample slack to feed. Then the old planter perceived the saddle- bage, and finding food therein, ate to bis satis- action, Much refreshed, he searched the undergrowth for some time, paying no attention to the vil- lains, Broquier and Lije; who had recovered, but dared not utter a word, for fear of attract- ing the old man’s attention, when a repetition of their recent experience might be expected, Long the major searched, even to the river, for the wagon—for some trace of his daughter —but without success, as the darkness revealed no trail. : At length, utterly wearied out, he returned, Gone 4 : 900 ? 2 - (Ele) j | F) — — _— " ial, _ wt s Xp aan