Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 40 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

The Long Haired °Pards.’ Not your life—that is safe, perhaps, but worse. You ar@in the presence of lawless men—and he is the worst. God pity me! that I should live to utter such words about my husband—he for whom [| gave all—home, parents, my ver soul!” and the woman pressed both hands al- most fiercely upon her forehead. “You are ill—do not speak any more since it pains you,” said Kate, gently. ‘“‘Tam well—I will not give way again,” said Martha, and indeed she appeared another per- son as her will asserted itself. ‘‘I must speak, for you must know the danger that threatens, or your heart may fail you. You were told their reasons for capturing you, and I believe that they only intended to extort a large sum of money as the price of your freedom—at first. But he—my husband—has eyes, and he saw that re were very beautiful. It is hard to say— h! what am I that the truth should frighten me?” and the woman laughed, low but bitterly. “Thomas Bascom has resolved to extort this money from your father, and still keep you in his possession. Hist! if your cry reaches their ears, we are lost!” For several minutes the two women main- tained perfect silence, then the elder one open- ed the door to reconnoiter. All wasquiet. The outlaws seemed unsuspicious, and she returned to the trembling maiden. “*T overheard them talking while you were sleeping. Youare not to beset free when the ransom money is paid, but are to be frightened into a marriage with him, by threats of still worse treatment—” ‘** But—you are his wife—” ‘* Now—but I would not be, then. A single voice is easily hushed—a simple push into the water, and the rocks would do therest. I over- . heard them talking it all over. If I stand in his way I must goto the wall. He saidas much himself. And that is why I am here. It mat- ters little what becomes of me—better dead than living, perhaps. But still there is enough of the woman left alive in me to fight against leaving him to be happy with another woman. I can save you, and I will, if you will trust me. I know this place well, Ican lead you through the tunnel, and once outside we can easily find our way to your friends. But there is no time to lose. e must escape to-night, if at all. Now—one word. Will you go with me?’ ‘“- Yes—and may God bless you for your kind- ness!” sobbed Kate, terrified at the black reve- lation. “We have only to wait, then, until the men are asleep. I have secured enough food for our journey, and have weapons, if we are forced to use them. Now lie down—pretend to sleep. They may suspect something, and come to spy upon us.’ Those were long and weary hours that passed before Martha Bascom deemed it prudent to venture forth upon their truly hazardous un- dertaking, but all seemed well when, hand-in- hand they ventured forth from the hut. The darkness was intense save close around the dy- ing camp-fires, but as if guided by instinct Mar- tha Bascom led the way toward the river, the bank of which was gained without interruption. Apparently the outlaws considered themselves safe without the precaution cf keeping guard. ‘““We must cross the river here,” whispered Martha Bascom. ‘There isno path along the tunnel upon this side. The water is not deep, We can pass jue here, though very swift. hrough easily, if you are only cool and steady- darved. Keep close to me—hold fast to my dress, and there is no danger. Remember what fate you are leaving behind!” Kate made no reply, but did as directed. The elder woman boldly entered the water and slowly pressed forward, though the current ran so swiftly that it tested their strength severel to avoid being swept from their feet. Thoug so narrow, it was’a long and toilsome task, this crossing, and Martha Bascom uttered a sigh of relief as she drew near to the other shore. At that moment a sharp challenge partes from directly in front—and then a blinding flash filled their eyes. | A wild, piercing shriek rung in Kate’s ears, and she felt the dress torn from her grasp. She reeled—her feet slipped upon a slimy rock—the swift current whirled her from her footing, and with a scream of terror, she felt herself swept into deeper waters and hurled ~— with fright- ful velocity through the inky blackness. A choking, gurgling cry—then came a crushing blow—an all was a blank! CHAPTER XXV. PLOTTING AND PLANNING. SLowLy and wearily the days and nights crept along to the four occupants sheltered within the little cavity in the rock wall over- looking the oval valley within which the White Sioux had placed his braves in ambush. The long and hard gallop from Crooked Valley had tly aggravated the wounds of Kenekuk, @ young warrior, and for many a weary hour Eunora, his sister, crouched beside him, doing brave battle with death with the scanty apph- ances at band, seeming unconscious of fatigue, only consenting to close her eyes when there came a change for the better, when her skill said that the crisis was —that Kenekuk would not die upon his first war-path. It was the third day after the White Sioux had left them to ride on to the aid of his people. Throughout that day the sun had beaten down hotly upon the rocks, and the atmosphere with- in the rocky den was almost stifling. Eunora had moved her patient close to the entrance, and now sat beside him. The two braves were sleeping soundly beyond. ‘* Listen, sister,” and Kenekuk would have lifted his head only for the little brown hand that gently pressed him back. ‘‘I can hear the trampling of horses—our father is returning!” Eunora made no reply in words, but carefully parting the leafy screen, she peered eagerly up the valley. The sound of hoof-strokes upon the flinty ground grew clearer and more distinct— then a small cavalcade rounded the turn and rode into full view. No Indians were they—one glance told the dusky maiden so much. But why did her eyes dilate—her lips part and turn pale? What caused that sharp, painful moan? Kenekuk looked at her paling face in won- der—then painfully lifted his head until he too could look out upon the valley and its occu- yants. He saw seven horsemen trotting steadi- ly through the valley. He saw that six were well armed—but the seventh? Instead of bear- ing weapons, this man’s hands were bound be- hind his back—a stout a led from ankle to ankle beneath the horse’s belly. A prisoner— yet the proudest, kingliest man among them all! Tall and erect, his Snr head rising its own hight above those of the men who led him cap- tive. d a low exclamation parted Kene- kuk’s lips as he recognized the man who had so adroitly baffled the plans of the White Sioux on the day of the festival. As though the exclamation was loud enough to reach his ears, one of the six men cast a quick, piercing — upward as his mustang bore him b nstinctively the young brave drew back, but his hand was powerless to move Eunora. As though fascinated, her eyes never withdrew until the escort and their prisoner disap ed near the mouth of the . “You saw him?’ asked Kenekuk, as the maiden bowed her head upon her hands. ‘‘ The man who looked wy as they rode ? He is a great brave! © should be a child of the Sioux.” ‘*T suw him not, brother,” and Eunora lifted her head, a strange fire in her wonderful eyes. ‘‘T saw but the brave whose hands were tied; and asI saw that, my mind went back to the black moon when the spotted death stole into the lodges of our people, to the day when we were at war with the pale-faces, and there-was none among our people to send for the great medicine that alone could cure them—none but Eunora. She alone among the squaws could \talk the white man’s tongue, and to send a brave would only be to send him to his death. So the great chief, our father, bade her go, and Eunora obeyed. She rode without pause until her horse fell dead. She ran on, carrying the old that was to buy back the lives of her people. he bought the medicine—and a stout horse to bear her home. But as she rode away from the big lodge, five pale-faces met her. Their blood was hot with the fire-water that had stolen away their brains. : ‘*They spoke black words to Eunora, and when she sought to pass them by, they drag her from her horse, though one of their number felt the sharp point of her knife bite deep into his black heart. Eunora struggled, but death and worse than death would have been hers, only the Great Spirit sent her aid. an angel of light another white face rode up—he struck swift and sure, and Eunora was free. Eunora thanked him—her words came hot from her heart, and he spoke soft words to her and bound up her hurts, while his friend stood by laughing. He caught the runaway horse, and offered to ride with her, but she remembered her people and his people were at war, and than od: him. ‘‘From that day to this, my brother, his face has been in my heart—but never, until now, did his face meet my hun eyes. And now—his life is in danger—for that was he that rode be- fore us, a prisoner!” ‘*We are but four—one a squaw, one a cri le! what can we do? Kenekuk would give is life for the brave pale-face, if that would set him free.” “He saved Eunora—she will save him, or die,” softly uttered the maiden, her big eyes glowing. ‘‘Tf our father was here—bitterly as he hates the white faces, he would dare anything to pay the debt which his child owes this velideeshatred chief. He may come in time—Leapah can go to meet him— : Msc ‘“*The White Sioux is ah , but can he ride over the big fort out yonder No; there must be some other way, and Eunora will find it, or die at his side.” . Kenekuk gazed wistfully at the face of his sister, but did not speak. ‘Though children of a white father and half-white mother, they had been reared among Indians, and had imbi many of their prejudices, sup-rstitions and peculiar principles of honor. Himself helpless, 'us the slip, in 21 unable to stand alone, much less aid another, he could not attempt to dissuade his sister from the resolve she had taken. Only for a few minutes did Eunora remain quiescent. Then she awoke Leapah, and briefly bade him transform her face as thoroughly as paint and pigments would doit. In silence he obeyed, not even allowing his stolid features to expressthe curiosity he undoubtedly felt. In a few moments his werk was done, Then Eunora ruthlessly tore off the rich ornaments from her dress, cutting and soiling the soft fawn-skin until it Ry around her in ugly rags. Mois- tening her hands, she rubbed black paint and dirt upon her hair until its rare glory was ob- scured. Then, bidding the two braves keep close watch and ward, she silently pressed her lips to the forehead of her brother and noiseless- ly stole down the rocky wall. She passed down the valley, pausing at the entrance and gazing steadily atthe fort. It lay silent and grim—seemingly devoid of life. But she knew that it contained her heart, and with- out faltering she advanced toward the build- in g. At nearly the same moment a single man emerged from the big gate, and strode forward as though to meet her. Though her heart throb- bed high, Eunora did not hesitate. A deep low filled her eyes as she recognized the man. t was Bill Comstock, the scout, and she knew that he was coming to meet her. She paused but the r look upon the scout’s face chemeed to one of doubt and disappointment as he drew near. ‘'Wa-al I ber-durned!” and he stared in - mouthed astonishment. ‘‘’Pears like the hull creation is turned outside in! I came to find a angel an’ she’s turned—” “Then Double-eye is not quite blind? He can see the face of a friend when it comes be- fore him?” ‘**T saw you back yender—that’s what I came out alone fer. But it takes two good looks to see you now!” ‘“‘The Indian girl can see better. Her eyes can look back and see two men who were friends and brothers. And to-day she saw the same men, one bound with stout cords, the other riding by him with rifle and pistol, ready to take his life—” “Ef you was a man, I’d dreen your heart dry fer them words,” interfupted Comstock, his eyes gleaming, bis voice husky with emo- tion. “Even a squawcain’t say ’em twice— mind that /” ‘*He was bound, you were free. There were but five others. Yet the man you called brother was carried to the fort, and the trail was as big at the end as at the beginning.” ‘It wouldn’t ’a’ bin, only heneare me to kee the peace—he said he’d cuss me ef I’temp to set him free. What couldI do? A dozen times I give him the chaince to run fer life while I kept them back—but he wouldn't do it,” and in as few words as possible Com- stock told Eunora exactly how the case stood. ‘* Thar’s only one chaince fer him—sence he won’t take no pr fromme, That varmint giv’ © big rain. We looked an’ s’arched all one day, but the trail was washed re an’ we couldn’t find him. He knows the truth, an’ ef I could find him I'd wring it out 0’ him ef I hed to skin him alive. But if I go off to s’arch fer him, who'll look over my ¢ He hain’t no friends thar—none but me,” de- jectedly added Bill. | ‘Tell me what this man is like, and if he is above ground, I will have him found,” quickly said Eunora. Comstock gave a careful description of Ben Watson, ‘* He shall be found. You must make all the delay youcan. If you can talk with Sky-eyes, bid him not despair. Say tlrat true friends are working for him. If one plan fails, another must . Tell him from me that he must live to prove his innocence and punish his foes. Say that none but cowards sit down quietly to die the undeserved death of a dog. If I could only see him—do you think there is any chance of that?” Eunora added, eager longingfillixie her eyes. ~ ‘Pm afeard not,” was the slow reply, and a shade of sorrow d over the scout’s face that was notall born of the peril of his friend, as he saw how wholly the maiden’s heart was occupied by Happy Jack. ‘‘The old man give mighty strict orders—indeed he told them, un- beknown to me, that they mustn’teven let me see the lad alone! That’s what they told me in yender, but I pulled this pet,” tapping the butt of his revolver, ‘‘an’ the cowards swallered my password, an’ never once opened their heads aginst it. But with you—I don’t know, You come to-morrow. Well, I'll do what I kin, but don’t count too much on’t. *Bout that fel- ler—you’'ll hev him hunted up?” , The maiden nodded impatiently, “*Tf alive, he will be overto you. But —if the worst comes, we must be prepared for that. If—if your friend is doomed to die, beg him to ask to be shot. If that is ted, all you can to have the—the execution — as as possible from the fort. If you can succeed in that, there is hope even at the side Gomilebooks Cc (E(0)