Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 339 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

4 4% > ° + and Spread Eagle Sam lovingly patted nA 4 , v yy GS “s7 S | r . _— Startled from its grassy form by the leap of a | call the mouth av ye, Ould Misery?” cried the coyote, dingy, dirty, Sy iy me ye as is the wont of its kind, a sleek, well-muscled jack- rabbit cleared the coulee with one tremendous leap, its ebon-tipped ears shooting upright with a ludicrous flirt as it half-turned its head to learn for certain what evil power had disturbed its noonday siesta. And with an angry, snarl- ing yelp, the coyote made one more attempt to secure its prey. Better have suffered disappointment in silence, since an empty stomach is surely better than a ing blue eyes glanced in that direction; a magnificent form sprung erect, handling a heavy gun pe it were but a feather’s weight, and that wild, peculiar yell rent the air even as the weapon exploded. And, struck on the shoulder by the humming lead as he rose for a second leap, the coyote was almost literally split open by the quartering lead. Swift as thought itself the smoking brown tube was turned upon the “‘ prairie mule,” now splitting the air as only a full grown ‘“‘ jack” can, stretched out into a long streak of dingy gray, that would have covered near a score yards had the tremendous leap been uninter- rupted. But at the crack, the hare vanished, leaving in its place a whirling rain of wool, flesh and blood. It was a remarkable ‘‘ double,” and he whose skill had put it on record was by no means in- clined to let it pass unnoted. Carefully leaning the rifle against the front of the rude cabin, he leaped high into the air, flap- ping unearthly screech, w letters can fitly express. ‘‘ Who says poor bull, when I says fat pullet? Whar’s the feller as thinks he kin make twins with a two-eyed gun? Show him up to the king-pin as fu’st ’vented trigger-pullin’, an’ run a ramrod up his clo’es so his backbone won’t melt when he tries to gaze onto Spread Eagle Sam, the dandiest high-flyer ’twixt this an’ the year 10,000!” Another high leap, during which the arms flapped and the heels rattled together, while the capacious lungs sent the air out in a screech that for force and volume would not have disgraced a steam-whistle. ch no combination of . Sam turned toward a young man who stood near, saying heartily: ‘*Tt’sa daisy shooter, Jes’, an’ she matches my no furder use fer her when it comes down to business. In the common run o’ han’s, mebbe she’d answer with them darned turn-outside-in- an’-splatter bullets, but not with the ole man. No, sir! Git my narves strung up—git my ole heart to pumpin’ blood a ton a secont an’ pushin’ on the heel a mile a minnit—while this eagle eye ©’ mine crams ’lectricity into the starn o’ each blue hummer, a solid quart to the inch—what would ’come o’ the game, an’ whar would the profits be?” ‘* But if one bullet can be made to do the work of two?” ‘ft cain’t, Jes’: not in jud tical han’s, ‘You cain’t kill even a tough twicet over.” “But with an express load and bullet you can drop him in his tracks, even if you miss what would be a vital point, with a common solid ball.” ‘‘ An’ whar’s the use in missin’, Jes’? When the ole man tells a bit 0’ lead to git thar, it don’t o to squamblin’ all over a acre o’ land lookin’ For some other place—no! It jes’ says the ole man knows what wants, an’ bet your ole boots it'll git thar, ef the trip takes a week hard travelin’, That’s the Ole Reliable, every time!” the ‘* cheek ” of his well-worn Sharpe. A curious blending of whine, snarl, sneeze and cursing, at that moment, caused the two men to turn toward the rude hut, just as a miserable- looking creature came stumbling through the opening in the front, thrusting aside the wrinkled hide that did service as a door. ‘¢ Durn sech a couse an’ double-durn sech a - chimley!” the nondescript howled, digging a pair CS a of grimy fists into as many smoke-blackened eyes. ‘‘How kin a man cook grub when the chimney’s turned wrong eend up’ards? When the cussed smoke won’t go up an’ will come - down? When the draft’s so powerful the wrong way it keeps suckin’ down chunks o’ mud all over the vi ? Durn the luck, anyhow! Ef T was ony, back in good ole Mizzoury ag’in— ‘4 ketch me With a most doleful whine came the last sentence, and the personification of hopeless i , the old fellow glanced up over the roof of the shanty—to utter a savage yell of rage as he beheld a short, ragged, devil-may-care figure squatting on the top of the mud-and- stone chimney. . “ Jes’ look at that, will ’e?” he whined, turn- ing ward Spread le Sam and his com- e, “It’s a p’izen varmint like that you ax a gentleman to cook fer? A-settin’ on the ey an’ me down thar smokin’ the two eyes out o’ me! Augh! ef I was on’y back in old Mizzoury ag’in!” “Ts it come to grub that ye’re thryin’ to git out av that wide slit in a wrinkled hide that ye eee | his arms and oe the air with that zou chimney-imp, with a broad grin on his rosy, comical features. ‘“‘Swally an ingyun, to sw’aten the brith av ye, an’ thin—will ye luuk at that, now!” : teers that this was adding insult to in- jury, Old Misery snatched up a couple of stones and flung them at his tormentor with such good will that, in striving to avoid them, the Irish- man lost his balance and came tumbling head- long over the roof of the dug-out. Active as a cat, powerful as dexterous Spread Eagle Sam leaped forward and caught the falling man in his mighty arms, thus saving him sore bruises, if not broken bones. ‘Tl pack more misery in your hide then you'll git out ef you live a year fer every solid inch o’ cl’ar fool they is packed in the hide o’ ye a’ready!” grated the irate cook, his bony fists sawing the air as he rushed forward, only to be caught by Spread sa ee Sam with one quickly freed hand and held helplessly at arm’s ength. ‘*Now quit your uittin’, won’t ye?’ he sharply demanded as he shook the two men with as much ease as a gymnast might handle a pair of dumb-bells. ‘‘ F'u’st ye know [ll be gittin’ hot all over. An’ when the eagle comes to squeal an’ his feathers to brustle up the wrong way you'll see the fur fly wuss then a snow biiaward — deed you jes’ will, now— tell ye!” ‘‘ With him a-squattin’ on the chimley, an’ me made mis’able with the smoke!” whined the cook, collapsing until he hung a limp and seem- ingly a boneless weight on the giant arm. ** Augh! ef I was on’y back in good old Miz- ag’in!” Will ye listen to that, now!” spluttered the | Irishman, his face the very picture of injured - innocence. ‘*The awful ingratichude that bub- | bles out avy some min like salt wather from the two eyes av a rich man’s widdy! _ownly the very mornin’ that isn’t | | ee ? han’, eye an’ finger to a t-y—ty; but I hain’t got | ———— Ay’ him it cowld in its grave, wishin’ that it was a bit o’ shmoked ham he had in his fisht like that es, raised back in ould Misery—where the ownly pork they have is that raised be their elahiiers Bat rin’ the soort that walks on two ligs an’ pitches stones at a gintleman! An’ me ahlmost scoorch- in’ the sate out av me Soonday trowsiz in the hopes av pl’azin’ the doleful joskin! The heel o’ Then alighting, Spread Eagle | me fut to ye, annyhow, Ould Misery—pit that in yer pipe an’ smoke it!” With a subdued groan, Old Misery shrunk from that voluble flood, and as Spread Eagle Sam released him he slunk back to_his fire- place. The Patlander, with a comical twist of that side of his face furthest from his giant captor, while the other half expressed only a coaxing gravity, said: ‘““W'uwd ye mind lindin’ me the loan av a chaw tobacky, yer ahuer? The taste av that shmoke’s got clane up to the lips 0’ me, an’ I lift me own plug to home ahn the pianny.” “ Thar’s a chaw, Johnny Bull, an’ with it jes’ take this bit o’ vice atwixt your teeth: don’t rub the ole man too hard ag’in’ the fur, or the fu’st you know you won’t know no bin’ but that you’ve got a tunnel o’ daylight clean through the place you live. When he does riz his ebenezer, he’s p’izen !” ‘‘ Sure it’s a blind cat could smell that same widout any sinse av faalin’!” grinned the Pat- lander, slouching away. It was near the hour of noon, on a bright, bracing November day. The withered grass, brown and matted, with the scanty foliage re- maining on the few trees which marked the hillside and fringed the winding banks of the little stream, told of sharp frosts and biting weather ; but now it was more jlikea day of the etme Indian Summer, and all signs seemed redict a delayed winter. Mention been e of a rude cabin, shan- ty, or ‘*dug-out,” as the iar structure ould more properly be termed, perhaps oer differing materially from the usua model of that characteristic prairie abode. A deep cut had been made into the foot of a stee , facing to the southwest. Inside this cut the framework of a small house had been erected, of small logs, notched and dove-tailed at the ends. The rear of the cabin was com- pee of the solid earth. There was a lean- roof, sloping to the front, or away from the hill. The upper ends of the split logs and les which com the roof were driven Srmly into the hill, then bound together in the middle and lower ends by. hide-ropes. Over all were placed buffalo-hides, as yet eat tially green. In the front an opening been left for a door, but as yet the space was filled only by a pendent hide, behind which the utterly-disgusted cook had retreated. But as the = peg © Patlander slouched away in the direction of the creek, Old Misery flung the lower end of the skin over a projecting above and to one side of the doorway, thus let- ting the smoke out and more light into the dingy cabin than could enter at the two small porthole-like windows. Stowed away ina deep, natural notch in the hillside, not many yards to the left of the dug- out, might have been seen acouple of rough, substantial wagons, covered over with heavy, waterpoof canvas and partly-dried hides. These were still packed full of bales, bags, kegs and Spread Eagle einai: other bundles, for the most part just\as they had come from the dealer. Across the narrow cleft in the hill, poles were braced and fastened, covered over with the omnipresent hides so as to perfectly protect the poods beneath. In front were close and high ars, stout enough to resist the assault of a full- grown grizzly bear. To the right, and further from the dug-out, among the undergrowth and stunted trees fring- ing the little stream, a substantial corral of small dimensions had been built. At one end was a s-covered stable where the horses could be sheltered from the driving storms of winter. But now, in full enjoyment of the clear, warm sunshine, playful as colts, the horses were taking what exercise their limited range could afford them, biting and pretending to kick, squealing and whinnying, performing all — antics so dear to spirited, well-fed ani- ma Passing under the not overly sweet-smelling hide that temporarily served as a door, we have a dingy, smoky view of the interior and its present occupants, two in number. Over the rude mud-and-stone fireplace which fills one rear corner of the dug-out, the cook is teen 9 whining, sniffing, erumblin as he worked, still disgusted with himself and all the world, still bemoaning his unfortunate lot and longing for his far-away home in “good ole Mizzoury.” The rest of the rear wall and the east end of the hut, is given over to narrow bunks, filled with dry ‘‘ bunch grass,” gray blankets and buf- falo-hides. In one of these bunks the second occupant of the dug-out is reclining, lazily pull- ing at a blackened stone pipe, adding to the ~ ry atmosphere as though it agreed with im. On the walls hung rifles, saddles, bridles, la- riats, spurs, and many other articles which need no more ‘paneer a mention in this connection, though all were of more or less use to the men who lived there. Who were those men? What their business? Hunters of, and hunted by, men? Outlaws? Fugitives from justice? The scum of civiliza- tion, driven hither by the hot breath of offendéd law? Not a bit of it! Wild and rough, uncouth and less than half- civilized as they may appear to the casual obser- ver, these men were fair representatives of their peculiar guild; at one time a wide-spread army whose progress was marked with flowing rivers of blood; a horde that lived by slaughter; close akin to the not more hardy or venturous trap- per of the vanished fur age. Then but a skele- ton regiment remaining of the army; now little more than a legend of the past, though one can count the intervening years on the fingers of his hands, without repeating. The Hide-Hunter of the Buffalo Range! He had played his part as assigned him under the grand law of the survival of the fittest, and though one must deeply regret the almost ex- tinction of that king of American game, the lordly buffalo, the picture has its brighter side. When the buffalo ag ae Indian savagery will become a thing of the past as well. The red-man will have to handle the hoe and_ the plow, in place of the bow and rifle. With abundance of bison, the nothing more; they supplied him with food, shelter and clothing; he might make treaties when the snow began to fly; might draw ra- tions and stock up with weapons and ammuni- » tion during the winter at the agencies; but without the buffalo to fall back on, he would not dare take the war-path when the grass began to grow. Sot this down to the credit of the much-be cursed hide-hunter. The pas‘ures which supported millions of bison, are now furnishing subsistence for as many catt'e. Remember this when you score the a me of the hide-hunter with a deep-black mark. Of thos> who, less than a decade ago, were best known on the buffalo-ran there stands out in -road relief the name a Manuel Ingalls, yen phen amo. x ive sobriquet o read Eagle ; In the very prime bf life, he was a man to at- tract attention no matter in what company one might find him. He wasof that boldly hand- some found oftenest in its perfection west of the big rivers; one who ‘had all outdoors to grow in.” Under the standard, his scalp would brush the six-foot mark, but his remarkable breadth — of shoulders, his enormous chest and massive limbs, apparently detracted from his hight, un- less taken in com n with some other of known altitude. A giant in bodily strength, he was active and quick motioned, without the | slightest suspicion of clumsiness about him. The exposed portions of his skin were tanned almost to a bronze color, but his hair, worm long and free, his full beard, soft and silken 45 the of a child, falling in slightly waving masses far down his br bosom, were yellow as the new silk of corn. His frank, honest eyes were of a steel gray, full of life, keen as neecles, CORNICE ACO KS lains Indian needed his fellows by the sugges- | Sam e = wie ' -