Pulp Fiction, 1886 · page 23 of 32
Beadle's Dime Library No. 411: The White Crook — page 23: what you’re looking at
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- o_ ee we @ . f _— : » -_* eg : Ro * rn * > : - - > y ; : 2% ) +, d . . od . ’ - 4 . ~~, & is 7 .° 4 - White Crook. 23 of them have brought in a fine lot of game, but it is strange that vour luck has deserted you, or your skill.” ‘‘ Mebbe he’s been huntin’ two-legged game,” suggested Captain Dunning. ‘With nothing to show fer it, I suppose, as usual. What have you been doing for your country to-day, Hark, anyhow?” ‘*T left my game where I killed it,” slowly an- swered the Hater. ‘‘Tt wasn’t the kind that I would trouble myself to bring in, and I don’t believe you would care to eat broiled Apache!” ‘“What! You have struck an Apache? That is news indeed! How and where did you find him?” ““T have struck one Apache—struck him dead —and have seen more. The fact is, my friends, that I have found the camp of the band we pur- sued down to this range.” ‘ This intelligence created a lively excitement in the camp, and all were eager to learn the ex- act nature and extent of the discovery. Hark related his adventure with all its de- tails, and was highly praised for his pluck and skill. Captain Lang was extravagantly elated. He already looked forward to a successful ter- mination of his expedition, and a report that would raise him in the estimation of his superior officers. ‘‘Now we know what we've got todo,” said he. ‘‘ We have meat enough to last us afew days, and we know where to find the Apaches, In the immortal words of General Grant, I propose to move immediately upon their works,” ‘‘T reckon, Captain Lang,” observed Sarpy, ‘*¢*that it will be best not to count your chickens before they are hatched, and 1 hope you won’t make your report before the job is finished.” ‘© What’s the matter with you now, old man?” ‘“‘The matter is that we are not out of the woods yet—that we have only begun to get into them. We know where the Apaches are, but we don’t know bow to get at them.” ‘‘That’s the pint, i interposed Captain Dunning. ‘ Didn’t you hear Hark say that the way was blocked up, dead?” cy “We would stand no chance of ay Mp their camp by the way I took,” observed Hark, *‘ unless we could fly.” ae Captain Lang suggested the possibility of the construction of scaling ladders. ‘‘ They would be sure to pick us off before we could get to the cliff, and if we should reach the top they would slaughter us one by one as we climbed up.” ‘‘ But the Apaches got there,” replied the offi- cer, ‘‘and why shouldn’t we follow them?” ‘“Now you've struck the point, my friend. What we have to do is to find out the way the red-skins took to get in there, and then to follow that way. The trouble is that it is a durned sight easier to know what to do than to do it.” ‘¢ And while we are looking for that way the Apaches may leak out and leave us.” ‘I don’t believe they will. I judge that they think they’ve got a good thing there, and mean keep it. I am sure that they didn’t get a ht of me, and I doubt if they suspect that a te man has been near their camp.” The trail of the fugitives had been lost at a place near the foot of the mountain range where a bed of gravel and bits of stone, washed down by former floods, spread out for a considerable ace. ett was so hard and compact that no trail could be found on it by the most careful search- to si w ing. Beyond this gravelly space there reached up into the mountain a stretch of bare rock, where there was of course no trail, and beyond that stretch no sign of the Apaches had yet been dis- covered, fi. ~— Tt was not known that the fugitives had cross- ed the trailless tract for the purpose of getting up into the mountain; but it was appre’ that they pee tery ‘. was ene ary future explor- ations s inatthat point. — The camp waa mored to the locality indicat- -ed, and experiments were immediately made for the pe gt of penetrating the mvountains so as to reach the hiding-place of the Apaches. Hark Sarpy regarded and treated the soldiers _as merely part of the camp—useful as a base of ‘supplies and to fall back on in time of trouble, but not to be depended on for finding the a in their fastnesses and attacking them ere. The real work of the campaign was to be done by the irregulars, among whom he allowed Jack Bunn to count himself, He bad fixed in his mind the: location of the retreat of the Apaches so that he knew its di- one, the two courses forming an angle of about forty-five degrees. To know the course was one thing, and to fol- low it was quite another, Hark Sarpy divided his force of irregulars in- to two bodies, one led by himself, and the other commanded by Captain Dunning. They were to strike the mountain range at two points not far apart, and when th ound - opening in the general direction which it was de- o<* %. . », ‘ : ™~ a Pp | 4* 7, . + a te > + ° - f sired to follow, were to divide and search as they pleased. An equal division was made of the men as to quantity, and nearly equal as to quality. In Sarpy’s party were Manuel, Jack Bunn, and one of Captain Dunning’s ranchmen. They crossed the spaces of gravel and bare rock, and entered one of the ravines with which the foot of the mountain range was seamed. It was not a very difficult route to travel, and they might have brought their horses had they chosen to do so; but it was the opinion of the leader that the search could be better pursued on foot. The Apaches, it was admitted, might have taken that route; but the closest scrutiny failed to reveal any sign of their passage. If they had ascended that ravine they had covered their tracks remarkably well. This ravine bent toward the north, taking the right direction, and they followed it until, in Sarpy’s opinion, they had reached a point high- er than the place where he supposed the Apache camp to be located, and not far to the south of it. Here the ravine separated into two smaller ra- vines, and he divided his party for the purpose of following up each of them. Manuel and the ranchman took the route that led to the right, and Hark Sarpy and Jack Bunn entered that which led to the left. Hark was soon disgusted with the course which he and his young friend had taken, as it led them yet further up the mountain-sidée, and seemed to promise nothing buta long and tedious tramp. They kept on until it split, as the main ravine had done, into two smaller passages, neither of which seemed to be worth following, as they were choked up by stones and shrubbery. ‘*T reckon we have come to the end of our tether,” remarked the guide, as he seated him- self on a rock to rest. ‘We ought nct to give it up yet,” answered the young man. ‘If there is any chance at all, we should take that chance.” ** It’s no use, Jack. If the Apaches had come up this way, they must have brought théir horses with them, and we would surely have seen some sign of them before now. I tell you we're at the end of our tether, and we had bet- ter turn back.” ‘*Only a little further,” pleaded Jack. ‘If you will take that chute, I will take this one, and we surely have time cnough to look into them a little way. It is just possible that we might find something.” ‘* Not even possible, it seems to me; but you shall have your way. Don’t go far, my boy, and be sure to meet me here inside of an hour.” Jack promised to obey these instructions, and started off. At the outset, the course he had taken was decidedly unpromising. It was, as has been said, choked up with stones and shrubbery; but when he came to look at it more closely, it seemed to him as if the stones might have ‘been placed there by hu- man hands, The arrangement of them was not entirely natural, and the pile was only at one spot, the course beyond that point being clear and easy to travel. Looking a little more closely, Jack per- ceived that a twig of one of the overhanging shrubs had been crushed, and lately crushed, under a stone. : It was easy enough to reason that out. The stone had fallen upon the twig, and there was no place from which it could have dropped naturally to the position it occupied. Consequently, it must have been placed there, and by human hands. Jack was convinced that men had been there before him quite recently, and he surmounted the obstruction and hurried up the . He would have called to Hark Sarpy and in- formed him of the discovery, but his leader had gone off in another direction. He had not gone far when his conviction be- came a certainty, as he found there not only the droppings but the tracks of horses. It was apparent then that the Apaches, if they had preceded him there, had thrown up that barrier of stones at the mouth of the pass, and had not cared to hide their tracks any more. The pains they had taken to cover the trail thus far was truly marvelous, and they were doubtless glad when the necessity of caution, as Chey Renee no longer existed, en he had gone a little further he discov- to a thorny cactus, and immediately pounced upon and made a prize of it. This was the best evidence he had yet had that he was on the right trail, and he eagerly pushed forward, sure that he would have a re- port to bring back that would gladden the heart of Hark Sarpy. Further on the little pass grew narrower and deeper, and began to tend downward pretty sharply, the sides changing from stony declivi- ties to walls of rock, like a miniature copy of some of the big canyons he had seen. ered a small scrap of muslin aanening ce %, a * “- we Se — r « ’ of r a nell sd ~ eto ca me 2 tin § Ler ere SS 2 ee eee a eee EE LL a ; . + = ee Thay b aos ee “~ 4 7 . r . *. j +" ba 4. | ye — a APE Ve +} * SE oy Darkness seemed to come on him when he got between those walls of rock; but he looked at his watch, and judged that he would have time enough to rejoin his leader within the time agreed upon. Therefore he decided to push forward a little further. i The pass made a short bend to the right, ané', . directly beyond the bend he saw light ahead, er Jack had listened attentively to all that Hark, ~ Sarpy had said concerning the location of the, | Apaches, stronghold, and his conclusion was that { he had come upon it from the rear or the flank i i and was about to emerge where he would have a chance to overlook it. Hitherto he had advanced with a reasonable 4 degree of caution, looking out carefully for ene- mies; but his caution deserted him when he saw the light ahead. Indeed, there seemed to be no further occasion for caution, as the narrow and walled pass coulé not conceal an Apache. It would be time enough to be careful when he should reach the end and see the view that was promised him there. 3 He did reach theend, and at the same time came to the end of his expedition. An exclamation of joy and amazement burst from his lips as he stood there and looked down at the scene below him; but it was instantly choked off. ss Two Apache warriors who were standing guard there had doubtless heard the footsteps of — the rash intruder, and had concealed themselves behind the rocks at the mouth of the pass, As soon as he emerged they seized him, andin | a few seconds he was disarmed and bound. “en CHAPTER XXXITII. EVA, THE APACHE. AFTER Eva Sarpy was taken with Ephraim Cronkhite to the horse camp near Bella Vista, — her life was not as pleasant as she might have wished it to be. ee Although Carroh was mainly good-humored = and treated her kindly, he had become distaste- ful to her, and she had actually contracted a ~~ dislike for him. Se Her recent association with the Dunning iB u family, tending as it did, to awaken old iccas ig and stir the white blood in her veins, had made a difference in her which she did not appreciate until she voluntarily returned to the Apaches, She then saw so much in a short time that was repugnant to her, that she probably re- gretted having broken the bonds that recently —_ attached her to civilization. ae When Manuel triumphantly burst through the camp on his captured horse, her elationathissuc- — cess was such that she did not dare toletitbe When the Apaches finally eame down from — Bella Vista, disgusted and gloomy because of —__ their failure and their losses, she did not sympa- —_ thize with them in the least, but simply mount- ed her pony when she was ordered to do so, 5 listlessly rode away with them. eG She did not fail to give the valley a se long;: °: lingering look, as if she 3 he leaving it; 9 Carroh made it a point to ride with her after they got into the hills, and was quite gallantin — his way; but his good manners made no impres- sion upon Eva, who answered him very oF when she spoke at all. ye, She was so curt and socool that he abandoned _ the effort to please her, and rode off with his comrades. ath ir” a. i Rn a ° ae - = Ay ra . ' s oy He did not come in contact with her again until the episode occurred that was witnessed by we father from his concealment near the acbe camp. 2s Tt was to bs expected that the savages, after they had been so badly used by the white people ._ at Bella Vista, would wish to wreak their spite — upon their one prisoner. Viet, That he had voluntarily put himself in their _ power was a circumstance not to be consi ae The more foo] ke, and the more lucky they. The plea of insanity that was entered in his behalf by Eva, though temporarily allowed, — failed to find favor with them, especially as the counsel for the defense was not above the sus- _ picion of sympathizing with the whites. ek The sport began shortly after they had entered _ the range on the other side of the valley, = Poor Cronkhite was compelled totramp after his captor, tied to the tail of a borse,and much nearer to the heels of the animal than was agreeable to him. 7 S8 ae At the first halt he expressed himself freely concerning this harsh treatment, but only suc- ceeded in amusing the Apaches. | ~ ' A * When he was tied up, he proceeded to de- liver an oration in his usual style, in which he expatiated upon his own wrongs as well as — those of the poor red-men. sey 8 This was such a delight to his captors that one of them stepped up to him with a sharp knife, aud with a quick cut shaved off one of his ears close to the head. : v4 Cie He howled as he felt the pain and missed the ear, and his success as a shrieker induced — them to shave off another ear, so that they — might elicit another howl; buéke prudently re- frained from obliging them, and submitted t his sufferings with a moan. : i ae “a ecom (E