Beadle's Dime Library No. 362 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

Believing that it was the red-skins com- ing back, he had ridden straight toward them, intending to meet their advance by emptying his Winchester upon them, which he felt would check them for awhile, and once Captain Burr got out of hearing, he knew in the darkness they would be unable to follow his trail, and that by morning he would be too far off for them to attempt to follow. After riding a short distance, Buffalo Bill drew rein and listened. Me still heard the clatter of hoofs, but now discovered that the sound was not be- fore him, but off upon his right. ‘It is some band of red-skins following after Sitting Bull,” muttered the scout. Still listening, he again said, as his prac- ticed ear detected the number: ‘“There are not more than a dozen them, and as I know about the course they are taking, I’ll head them off and have a look at them. ‘‘Come, Red-skin, you must work to- night.” : Away bounded the horse, and after a gal- lop of half a mile Buffalo Bill wheeled into the edge of a clump of timber, which bor- dered a small prairie. Hardly had he done so, when through the gloom a number of moving objects dashed into sight. They were coming along near the edze of the timber that concealed the scout, and his eyes soon discovered the fact that they were ponies without riders. Their gait wasa tired gallop, and they were huddled close together. Nearer and nearer they came to the spot where Buffalo Bill was concealed, and eye ing them closely, he soon detected that one of the animals bore a rider. The way they headed, if nothing changed their course, he knew would bring the little herd within thirty feet of him, and still gaz- ing at the single human being visible with them, Buffalo Bill cried suddenly, in sup- pressed tones of excitement: ‘“ The Mad Hercules, as I live!” Tlardly had the words left the lips of the scout, before he had his lasso-in hand and whirling it ready to throw, The next instant the mustang bearing the huge madman was within easy reach, and out from the shadow of the timber shot the coil, and, expertly thrown, settled down over the shoulders of the Mad Hercules, The start and wildyyell he gave, caused the pony he rode to give a wild bound of fright, and the Mad Ilereules was dragged from his back, and fell heavily to the ground. Ere he could rise to his feet Buffalo Bill was bending over him, a revolver at his head, while he hissed forth: ‘* Resist and you die!” ‘**] will not resist, Sir Ghost,” was the low reply, in a deep, tremulous voice, and the madman lay motionless. “Sir Ghost! a healthy-looking ghost am I!” muttered Buffalo Bill. But seeing the immense power of the man, should he choose to exert it, and not wishing to kill him, but to find out all he could about him, he humored the idea, and answered in deep, sepulchral tones: “See that you obey me then, in all things,” ‘*Oh, gladly, Sir Ghost!’ was the response, in the same low tone. ‘« Arise and follow me!” The giant obeyed most humbly. “Now, why have you run from me as you have?” The madman was silent, and Buffalo Bill muttered to himself: , “T must play this ghost business heavy while it is dark, for when the daylight comes he’ll bounce me for a fraud.” Then in louder tones he said: ‘Why have you run from me as you have?” ‘*T feared you.” ‘“Ah, yes. ‘© To you know whose ghost I am?” ‘¢Mark Morgan’s.” ‘Yes, yes; the miner captain who was killed in California some years ago,” ‘‘Yes; I killed you and your four pards for your money,” was the whispered reply. ‘*Yes, so you did; and I have been look- ing for you ever since.” ' ** You told me you would haunt me, you of | Buffalo Bill’s Grip. remember, and it was to keep you from say- ing that, that I stabbed you again.” **So it was; so it was.” Buffalo Bill, when the madman mentioned the name of Mark Morgan, at once remem- bered that a miner and his four companions So been killed in California some years be- ore. Bill had known Mark Morgan, and remem- bered how wonderful was the likeness be- tween the miner and himself, Who were the murderers of the party none could really tell; but now the mystery was solved. Again addressing the Mad Hercules, Bill said: ‘* You killed me and my comrades for our gold.” ‘Yes; but I did not touch it, for | dared not do so after the deed 1 committed, and I fled to the mountains, and I have wandered about hoping you could not find me, but you have,” “Oh, yes, that is an easy thing for a ghost to do. | ‘‘T’dhave found you sooner, only I had other work to do; but tell me, why have you been such a murderer, and killed pale-face and red-skin alike, wherever you have met them?” ‘‘T could not help it, ghost, after I had once stained my hands in human blood. ‘* Because I was a giant, folks laughed at me, and if made me mad, and since | killed you, something in my brain has said to me all the time: Kill! kil kill J” ‘Well, you have obeyed the order pretty well; but | want you to go with me.” **T will, ghost.” “You are not afraid of the living?” ‘‘No, I hate and kill them!” he said fiercely. ‘* But you are afraid of ghosts?” ‘© Yes.”’ ‘* You are right. ‘‘Now your ponies have stopped yonder, I see, so I will catch you one, and you must go with me.” ‘“W here?” “'To Sitting Bull’s camp.” ‘Can I kill him and his braves?” asked the madman, as innocently as a child. ‘*Yes, the whole gang, if you wish to. ‘Now wait here until I catch one of your ponies for you,” and with perfect confidence that his supposed supernatural existence would keep the giant in subjection, Buffalo Bill mounted Red-skin and soon lariated one of the ponies the madman had so persistently driven from the Big Horn. Standing where he had left him was the Mad Hercules when he returned, and bid- ding him mount, Buffalo Bill rode away, fol- lowed by the poor crazed being whose crimes, for the love of gold, had dethroned his rea- son and sent him a raving maniac through the wilds of the Yellowstone, with but one idea, to kill, and thus add to the list of his red deeds. CHAPTER XXXTYV. THE TIGERS UNLOOSED. RETREATING from the valley of the Big Horn, where his merciless hand had fallen upon General Custer and his men, Sitting Bull pitched his village in a position from which he knew it would be almost impossible for the pale-faces to dislodge him. As the time wore away and the different bands of warriors came in, they all had strange stories to tell of their adventures. One warrior reported that he had been a captive to the pale-faces, and had heard how the great white hunter, Pa-e-has-ka, had killed the Cheyenne chief, Yellow Hand, and two of his warriors in a battle, single-hand- ed, with them. Two others had to tell how they were all that had escaped of their scouting party, and that they had attacked a giant pale-face, and would have killed him, had not Pa-e-has-ka dashed in upon them, and after killing some of their best braves caused them to fly. Again a large band, left to besiege some pale-face braves, who had fortified them- selves on the Rosebud, had a story to tell of Yellow Hand warning them of danger, and that they had fled for their lives, believing that a large force was attacking them. But the next day a few of them returned SE EE EE ee ee me mmm a a I a a cm Ra “* sa to the fort on a scout, to find there one cf their braves who did not fly, because ke had a broken leg, and that he, having lived long with the pale-faces, spoke their tongue, and had heard how Pa-e-has-ka had fooled them, and laughed at them for cowards. They had then taken his trail and follow- ed it, to find it mingled with other trails; but, as they had double as many warriors as the pony tracks they saw, they pressed on in pursuit, to be suddenly ambushed, and have dash out upon them Pa-e-has-ka and the Evil Spirit of the Yellowstone. A few of them had escaped, and they had come to tell the story. To all these stories Sitting Bull and his head chiefs listened, and the name of Buifa- lo Bill, or Pa-e-has-ka, became a greater ter- ror than ever, and when it was known hat he had as his ally the Evil Spirit of the Yel- lowstone, as the red-skins called the Mad Hercules, they felt the wildest dread of what he might do next. Among the chiefs sat one who had listened to every story told in the council-lodge, and no one would have deemed his painted face concealed the white man. But so it was, and at last he spoke: ‘* Pa-e-has-ka is my foe, and I sought his life; but he is the pale-face brave that the Feather Feet sent to give the Sitting Bull’s warning that his enemies should not follow upon his trail. ‘The Feather Feet turned a tiger loose upon the trail of my red brothers, and he told her that he would return and give him- self up to the Sitting Bull. Has he come back ? ‘*Nol ‘* But the warriors come in and tell how he has killed them, scalped them, and laugh- ed at them for squaws. Will the Sioux end Cheyenne braves let the pale-face dog throw dirt in their faces? Is he not now not fay from their village, and yet no warrior brings: in his scalp? Let my medicine braves seelr his trail and bring him alive into the pres- ence of the great chief, and the Death Killcy will show them how the Pa-e-has-hka will weep like a squaw when he feels the grip of his foe upon him!” This speech of the renegade, Bill Bevins, excited the Indian warriors to frenzy, and within half an hour after it was uttered a hundred of the best braves of the tribe had gone forth to hunt down their terrible foe, who had boldly advanced within a few miles of their very stronghold, a — CHAPTER XXXV. FEATHER FEET'S PERIL. From the day of his return to the gory field of the Big Horn, to take the scalp of the gallant Custer, and finding Buffalo Bill there to defend it, Bill Bevins, the renegade, had thirsted for revenge upon the scout. He had secretly dispatched the Flyer upon his trail of revenge, and as that very daring warrior did not return, he feared that he had come to grief at the hands of the man he went to slay. For defending the scout and permitting Buffalo Bill to go free, upon his pledge to return, the renegade had not forgiven Feath- er Feet. Yet he knew the influence she held in the tribe, that upon account of her having been born with snow-white hair, and growing up far more beautiful than any maiden in the tribe, she was regarded as a favored one of the Great Spirit, and that should he cross her will, he would lose the prestige he had gained. He had hoped to win the girl’s love, when he first came to the tribe; but she had treated him with disdain; and this was an- other reason why he felt revengeful toward her. To get an Indian to aid him ina plot against Feather Feet he knew was impossible, yet he did not despair, and when he left the council lodge, he determined in some way to ect rid of the girl, as he hoped that Buffalo Bill might be captured, and if so, she might. save him from death, To plan and to execute, are two very different things, and so Bill Bevins found it, But he was a good plotter, and having studied medicine before he did deviltry in saree life, he knew the power of certain erbs. Eomicboo (C <S GO => = bead a — aes eo