Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 38 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

Velv as words. The white chief wants the McCloud girl—he will fight for’her with any brave of the nation who cares to challenge him, and I, the great chief of the tribe, will see that the fight is fair Is it good?’ A very emphatic grunt came from the lips of the red warriors. This sort of thing was exactly to their liking; and then, too, there was hardly a man in the savage ranks who doubted that the white man would be beaten in the struggle. The young chief, The Little Horse, was as fine a brave as the McCloud tribe could boast; and, as for the ugly, scarred-faced One-eyed Crow, deeds of blood were so heavy on his head, that there was not a red butcher in the nation, Koo-choo, the Hog, alone excepted, who could boast a bloodier record. Velvet. Hand was in for it; there was no escape, and therefore with as good a grace as possible he prepared to ‘‘ face themusic.” “T am ready for the trial!” he exclaimed. ‘Let the red braves who doubt that I am a great chief step forward, and on their heads I will prove that I am as good a man as any red war- rior in the McCloud tribe,” Eagerly the two warriors who had spoken stepped forward. ‘‘The Little Horse and the One-eyed Crow,” said Koo-choo, in- dicating the two. ‘‘ Which one will encounter the white chief first?” As crafty as he was bloodthirsty was the older McCloud war- rior, and he warily calculated that if the Little Horse took the first chance the white man might disable him, and so a powerful rival would be removed, and even if he conquered the pale chief, matters would be no worse than they were at present, so the old brave spoke instantly: “Tet the Little Horse take the first chance,” he said; ‘‘he was the first to speak and it is his right,” The young brave eagerly accepted the position. ‘Facé to face the rivals met. . ‘T ‘bear no malice to my red brother,” observed Velvet Hand, gazing with a keen eye at the intelligent and pleasing face of the young McCloud warrior. “It is merely a question between us as to which is the better man. We need not seek each other’s | lives; let us lay aside.our-weapons and with our bare hands, muscle against muscle, struggle for the mastery.” The young warrior accepted the condition, and soon, stripped of all useless incumbratices, the two faced each other, CHAPTER XIII, THE TRIAL. A FINE contrast the two presented. The dusky-faced son of the wilderness, the child of the lava rocks, and the pale, eagle- eyed sharp of Cinnabar. Fairly matched in size and build were the two, no apparent advantage on either side, The savage chief had stripped off his hunting-shirt, exposing his brawny chest, and arrayed only in leggings and moccasins, ‘was splendidly prepared for the contest, Velvet Hand had removed his coat and vest, bound a handker- chief around his waist, rolled up the sleeves of his daintily ruffled shirt, thus plainly displaying the muscles of his massive arms, the sight of which rather astonished the red warriors, who, squatting upon the neighboring rocks, were eagerly watching the prepara- tions for the contest. They had no idea that the white chief possessed such a pair of arms, and even the confident McCloud chief looked rather : oe Mm he beheld such an unusual muscular development. oO use saying common to rting fraternity, Velvet Hand “stripped big,” ate “ ** Ready, chief?” said the white, ‘“‘Ready,” responded the Indian, and then, with the word, “he rushed upon the Cinnabar man, | It was his intention to force the white down by sheer strength, but Velvet Hand knew a trick worth two of that. His strong arms brushed the outstretched hands of the red chief away, and, grasping him in a peculiar way, before the Indian could realize the intention, he was jerked violently off his feet and laid flat.on the broad of his back in a most summary manner, | A grunt of astonishment came from the lips of the red-men; never before had they witnessed such a. performance, and as for the young chief, who was not injured in the least, except. that his pride had received a terrible shock, he grew fairly black in the face with rage. He felt that the white chief had madea plaything of him, Springing to his feet, furious in his anger, he rushed desper- ately at the cool and wary white. No chance this time to try the tricks of the wrestler’s art, for the rush of the Indian was like the maddening charge of the bison bull; but, nimble on his feet as a dancing-master, Velvet Hand dodged under the arm of the Indian, turned quickly, and as the savage checked himself, and essayed to follow the example of his dextrous white antagonist, Velvet Hand caught him a ter- rible, blow on the neck, just: under the ear, which felled the red- skin as though he had been shot. héwent, his head striking with a dull thump, and for a minute or two the chief remained motionless on the ground. He had been knocked out of time, With his hands folded low down about his waist, the favorite breathing position of the practiced sparrer, Velvet Hand waited for the red-man to revive, «And the stolid red-men, crouching upon their rocks of vantage, like so many huge red toads, watched with wondering eyes this strange encounter. et Hand. 11 It was the first time that the bold warriors of the red McClouds had ever assisted at a ‘‘ boxing match.” Slowly the senses of the stunned red chief came back to him, and he rose to his feet, an expression of pronounced amazement upon his face. Never before in all his life had he been so roughly handled, anc yet he was accounted one of the most expert wrestlers in the tribe; but that he was no match for the strong limbed, skillful white man was plainly evident. Nine warriors out of ten would have been quite satisfied to give up the contest at this point, but the young and proud chief was loath to cry ‘‘enough” so soon, With careful steps, then, he approached his adversary, who simply unfolded his arms in readiness for the attack. The chief approached almost within arm’s length, and then, concentrating all his strength, sprung upon the white. Not an inch of ground did Velvet Hand give, but his strong right arm shot out, the blow striking the Indian full in the neck, just under the chin, taking him off his feet, and hurling him over backward with terrible force. Few men had endurance enough to enable them to receive a second one of these terrible right-handers, and the McCloud chief was not one of these few. It was three minutes at least before he recovered from the awful shock, and some of his friends, believing that the blow had been fatal, hastened to his assistance, They raised him to his feet; he could stand, but it was quite plain that he was in no condition to renew the contest, and so the wondering braves assisted him to leave the field where he had met with such a com- plete defeat. The One-eyed Crow had watched the struggle in astonishment, and too late he understood how great was the task he had taken upon himself; but he did not shrink, for as brave as any race of men that ever lived are the red warriors, after their own fashion. But the old chief made up his mind that he would not encoun- ter the white man with bare hands, after witnessing his prowess. The Little Horse removed from the field of action, the old warrior stepped forward. ; ave his girdle the red-skin drew the long, keen-edged sealp- ng-knife. ‘‘ A warrior’s weapon is mine!” he exclaimed. ‘‘ Let the pale chief understand that when he faces the One-eyed Crow it is for life or death!” A quiet smile passed over the iron-like face of the Cinnabar sharp, as he listened to the bravado of the McCloud warrior. **If the white chief does not fear to look upon death, let him take his weapon and face the McCloud warrior, whose wigwam is lined with the scalps of his enemies.” Again the lip of Velvet Hand curled in contempt. ‘What McCloud warrior will lend me asharp knife, that I may give this great brave his ticket to the happy hunting-ground® demanded the white, in evident scorn. Koo-choo, the Hog, drew his own knife from his girdle, and pitched it toward the pale-face. There was but little doubt in the mind of the old chief that the Cinnabar man would be as as his word. The glittering knife fell right at the feet of Velvet Hand; he it, and not an instant too soon, for hardly had he again assumed the upright position before the ruthless red chief was upon him, No better handler of the long Indian knife was there in all the nation than this bloody-minded red'slayer. His favorite game was to expose his left arm to the slash of his opponent’s knife, and at the same moment drive his own weapon home to his antagonist’s heart, But this time he met a foeman worthy of his steel. As the red chief rushed in to close quarters, Velvet Hand sud- denly assumed the offensive and slashed at the Indian’s breast. The One-eyed Crow threw up his knife to ward off the blow, and then, with a sudden whirl, Velvet Hand cut the Indian across the knuckles with the keen-edged blade. A howl of pain escaped from the lips of the savage, despite the grim resolution, so great a characteristic of the old chief. Velvet Hand was quick to improve the advantage he had gained. He closed in ‘with the chief, caught his right wrist with his left hand, and then, dextrously giving him the ‘trip, threw him over on his back, adding his own weight to the fall. The warrior writhed like a wounded serpent; but he was com- pletely helpless in the firm grip of the pale-face, and the keen- edged knife of the white ‘was scratching ‘the skin of the chest, waiting but the force of the strong right arm to drive it home the heart of the red chief. ~ : ‘Yield or die!” cried Velvet Hand. “Strike!” replied the warrior, in bitter, impotent rage; “the _ McCloud warrior does not fear to die!” But it was no part of the white man’s policy to kill the red brave, and thereby ineur ‘the enmity of all his kindred; in time to come he might need the aid of all the MeClouds. With a dextrous movement he wrested the knife from the war- rior’s hand, and sent it spinning over the rocks. “The victory is mine without bloodshed!” said the -white, rising. ‘‘I scorn to strike when I can spare!” The struggle was over and Velvet Hand free to depart. . ——_. — CHAPTER XIV. THE DIAMOND RING. Srraicut for the city of Cinnabar went Velvet Hand, walking on with tireless strides, but the rapidity of his steps bore no comparison with the surge of the thoughts whirling through his GComichookssGco ee — —