Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 1167) (1905 11)
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(tid NEW YORK SSS“ PT mre a Ge Copyricnut, 1878, By BeapLe & ADAmMs. SS Wo 1487. Published Every Month, otf DIM ; { —~ a : nue) MM. B. EVERS & CO., Publishers, (JAMES SULLIVAN, PROPRIKTOR), 379 Pearl Street, New York. The Hidden Lodge; The Little Hunter of the Adirondacks BY T. C. HARBAUGH, AUTHOR OF ‘NICK 0’ THE NIGHT,” ETC. CHAPTER I. FALLING THROUGH & GHOST. “Tost! Thar’s no denyin’ the predicament now. Hyar’s the log what I fell over awhile back, an’ by hokey, hyar’s the powder-horn what I thought I lost on the banks of that black river! We m goin’ round an’rqund like a . Kin ye see anything, Simony’ ‘Nuthin’; not even a star.” ‘‘That’s encouragin’! The old moav algn, owls mehyar. This must be the devil’s own land, an’ ef I live to see daylight one man will make tracks for civilization. Hear that roarin’ water! It’s the Ausable. It hollers like a pack of wolves let loose by; one of the imps of these ter~ rible woods.” “What are we goin’ to do?” we an’ bring u ‘in’ this bi black ior every ime? Thank God thar’s no moose brush hyar to zipa fellar with its wet leaves an’ make one we've fools, fools! Don’t ye see that he sent us here to get lost and die some- whar in this devil-land? Let me out o’ this, an’ I'll back. By the jumpin’ jingo, Tll go back an’ take every cent from him or send him to the gallows!” “Don’t carry on that way, se We Bats pe yar enough to 6 hang of things. Wei'llstrike the trail an’ make a re I'm in’ to stay. idn’t come hyar to give matter up so soon.” In the gloom of an Adiron- dack forest stood the two men between whom the fore- conversation passed a March night in the early conclude, which they did with many curses, that they) were Lost, “ The men were veritable giants. Their gar- ments, draggled at the ankles and damp else- where, for a drizzling rain had been falling for several hours, chilled them to the bones, and the cold wind that swept through the wet boughs of hemlock and pine made their teeth chatter. It was near ten o’clock when, for the second time, the man called Tarsus—Tarsus Night- well was his name—stumbled over the half. decayed log. The second accident confirmed his unwelcome suspicions—that they were tray- eling in that bewildering circle which is so ter- rible to the unlucky children of the wood, The camp might be far away, over leagues of wet yrocalant and miles of mountains, or nestlin quite near in its tenantiless security, well stocke with venison and fowl which the appetites of the two lost giants craved. They did not know where it was. The roar of waters which came through the impenetrable gloom to their ears was the dash- THE LITTLE HUATER DESCENDS TO THE HIDDEN LODGS. PRICE 5 CENTS. 50c, a year, ing of the Ausable as it rushed through one of those awful gorges which to-day is the delight and wonder of the hunter and the tourist. During their circumnavigation of a certain cen- ter of forest land, Tarsus Nightwell and his companion had not passed beyond the sound of that mad river. At times, of éourse, the roar was not so distinct; but it ted harshly upon their ears, and made them 8 udder. To them—strong men end rough as they were—tho thought of passiug a night in the heart of the Adirondack country was absolute horror, This*was hightened by the truth of their situation. Put the twain by the old log at midnight, but with the trail to camp in their minds, and they would have laughed at the Au- sable, and told stories with zest about the pineries of Maine. Lose a brave man in a strange forest at night and his heart will grow still at the sounds that his ear, or at the thoughts that throng his brain. Twice during the tramp of the wildering circle, Night- well had tried to build a . but the winds murdered his little blaze before it had time to die among the damp burrs and damper leaves. “T wish he was hyar, "pon my word I do,” growled Tarsus Nightwell. “Thar’s us off. Simon, thar’s some- thin’ mighty deceitful in man.” But the man called Simon did not respond. He was feeling the trunk of a tree running his hand over it as if hunting for something of vag: right, T ” he ‘Yor ‘arsus, said, rising with a sigh of chagrin. ‘ The bark, the old moss sign, ar ag’in’ us Thar’s no north side to these ‘‘ An’ none to the wind,” growled Nightwell. “Pus up yer hand ‘an’ try it, on, Why in other woods I d tell whiab way was which by the blowin’ of the wind; bat now tell if ye dare!” “T tried that twenty times o> This is an awful coun ry. ati” Sg oie trary hyar. lieve the needle world stand gang on end an’ pint to the % “hif thar is one over these infernal woods.” After awhile the lost ta determined to ward the river, W from the sound of ite cav- might be ernous five or six miles They wanted to break the “
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2 Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. horror of “circle traveling ”—to pass over its boundaries, and dissipate the spell and supersti- — which sat like sheeted specters in their earts, They started forward, refreshed by the rest. Tarsus Nightwell in advance. The trailed their long rifles at their sides, and kept their ears trained to catch the slightest suspicious sounds, The journey through the nocturnal forest was necessarily slow. It led them over high hills and through rocky gorges, out of which naught but their experienced woodcraft brought them without breken limbs. ; The sound of the Ausable grew more distinct, and it at last became evident that the spell of bewilderment had been broken. They were ina country where the hemlocks were young, a good place for the shy deer, and their enemy, the ravenous wolf. It was in this place that Nightwell, com- muning with his superstitious thoughts, started when Simon’s hand fell upon his shoulder, and pressed his wet garments upon his skin. The giant began a sentence of expletives which his coppppenen quickly broke. we're followed!” Followed! and in that wild land of forest and stream? Trailed! and at the dead of night, and lost in the woodland of mystery and death? Tarsus Nightwell could not speak. The sound of the Ausable seemed to die out in an instant, and the stillness of the grave to him swooped silently down like a spectral eagle. “Followed it is,” repeated Simon. ‘Can’t ye hear, Tarsus? .Thar’!” The superstitious hunter did hear a footstep among the young leaves which their own feet had lately passed. It sounded like the tread of some animal trot- ting leisurely along, like a tired dog on the scent. . When he found his tongue he eocked his rifle and. said: ‘A wolf, mayhap, Simon. It’s got the trot of that beast.” ‘But it’s no wolf! I’ve been listenin’ to it fur miles. When we stop it stops. Thar! ye can’t hear it now.” ; ‘* What do ye think it is?” If Simon had seen his companion’s face he would have started back with a cry of horror. It was hideous in its ghastliness, for Tarsus Nightwell had been thinking how terrible it would be to be followed by some vengeful enemy in that land of terrors. “ What do I think it is?’ said Simon Oldfoot. “Tt isn’t a wolf, that’s sartin; nora bear. It’s ” @ man. piel : ‘*T don’t know, because I can’t see ’im.” ** Now let’s go on oem till I kin i the hang of the step,” said Nightwell, “Vil take the rear. Now pushon.” — : : The journey was resumed, with Simon in the van. Tarsus Nightwell kept his ears strained to gatch any sounds that might follow them. He heard the footstep which had attracted Simon. It followed them in that peculiar dog- trot of the eel it was et altar sn varying nor stopping, save when gian sto; ped to listen. ; : te worked Tarsus Nightwell into a passion of madness. He drew his knife, and crouched in the path. Simon, not missing him for the roar of the Ausable, went on. Panther-like, the giant waited for the mys- ag fg trailer. It continued to approach, and in the very: path which the hunters had made in the leaves.. Z Nightwell saw it not, but marked its a prac by the footsteps. Slowly he drew the ong knife back and held his breath. ‘ trailer was before him—a figure darker than the ghostly hemlocks around. ; 23 The giant saw for a moment, and then, throw- ing bis body, tiger-like, forward, struck with all ‘ 1S ml ie But no - opposed his knife, and the hunt- er went headlong across the trail to fall into a, clump of bus from whose recesses he fright-- ened a coyote with a loud cry. ? For one moment he lay there, when, oe ing tw ms feet, he dashed through the forest, ealling tustily for Simon Oldfoot. Ta y. heard the call and halted, for first time to discover that Nightwell was not athisheels, . “Ry the jumpin’ jingo! the fool went back #0 fight it!” he said. ‘*He’s runnin’ as if the eld war at his heels.” z - Like a wild deer the giant was pushing « Stop an’ listen! By the holy stars ‘| but which was in reali trails to the wigwam of the through the Adirondack woods, breaking the young bushes down, and startling more than one animal from its covert. He would have rushed bot Simon, if that in- sole age had not checked him with his great and, “You'd run spang into the Ausable!” Simon said, harshly. ‘‘ Thar isn’t a sleepin’ thing in these woods now—my head on thet! What hev ye seen?” i “Don’t ask me, Simon; it war nothin’ thet hes blood. I struck with all my might, an’, by the holy stars! I fell right through it! Come, Simon, let’s git out of this devil-land. It war a host—thin, an’ cold as the air—fur my blood roze as I went through it.” Tarsus Nightwell, the giant, was the incarna- tion of fright, and Simon Oldfoot caught the disease, ; He felt the chill of terror in his heart, and as he lisitened, not 4% the natural unterrify- ing roar of the river, but to the sepulchral drip, drip of the water through the trees, he be- came incapable of flight, And, added to other sounds, came that awful trot of the mysterious trailer. Ghost it certainly was, for Tarsus Nightwell had fallen headlong through it ! CHAPTER. II. PINEY PAUL AND NOKOMIS. Nor trotting, but walking ree through the Adirondack woods was the “ ghost” which had frightened the two men, who would have attack- ed an entire Indian village or stood their ground against a pack of mountain wolves. Of course it was not a specter, but a person composed, like the giants, of flesh, blood, bone and sinew! The easy swinging motion of the body and the elastic step were the causes of that gait, so like the well known dog-trot. It was the figure of a boy that glided shadow- like under the rain-burdened branches of the trees—a boy clad in wild and fantastic garb of buck-skin, with a cap of fur, and moccasins of elegant workmanship. The contour of face and po Sig? was remarkably handsome, and the youth still in his sixteenth year, though strong and agile for one so young, would at any time attract attention. ‘ And then he was a character in those dark tarns of the Adirondacks; Ai: feet knew the trails that led to Whiteface’s snowy crest, as his paddles knew the sleeping depths of Tupper Lake. He carried a light rifle at a trail in his right hand. It was his only visible weapon ; but he had others as the reader shall see. He wore in his fur cap a sprig of pine which looked very like a plume, and at his side hung what appeared to be an oversized powder-horn, a ty a bugle. Thus eauipped the ‘‘ ghost” flitted through the forest while the two giants listened to his steps with the feelings that fill the captive’s ‘heart when he hears the ’s feet coming down the corridor of stone. But all at once the boy stopped and listened, There were sounds in the w ahead, besides those made by the Ausable. he giants had found their feet and were run- a : ‘ : e fomnea with a smile on his well-formed The boy did not pause till the sound of flying feet were lost, seemingly among the waves 0 “ Back to the lodge!” he said, as if addressing a command to a party of Indian braves. ‘‘The but I know every trail in these mountains. Every trail? No, There is one which even fF do not know!” The last sentence was spoken with much evi- deat chagrin. The boy was moving toward the Ausable as the last words fell from his lips. A short walk brought him to the river, flow- ing through one of the picturesque gorges of the Adirondack country, The pines on each bank bending: one toward the other, almost met above the center of the stream, from which, in bt places, they excluded even the fair day- ght. The boy reached the river at a point that called forth an exclamation of joy. © Securing his rifle to his back by means of @ strap which had been coiled at his belt, he caught the slender trunk of a pine that véen- turesomely grew at the very edge of the preci- pice, and lowered himself into the chasm. But it was not his intention to dash himself to destruction amid the whirlpool of waters that hissed several hundred feet below. His feet struck a network of vines that clung to the rocks, and for a moment he was lost to the view of the few stars which, at that point, threw their beams into the gorge. But the mo- tion imparted to the strong creepers—a motion which snake-like crept downward toward the river—told that he was descending. At last, by the aid of this natural stairway, the forest sprite reached the bottom, where the roar of the Ausable was almost deafening. The rocks at his feet were spray-washed and slip- pery, and the spectacle which the river possess- ed so the daytime was hidden in the asiheas at night, urrying along over the rocks with the sure steps of a person reared in these awful solitudes, the youth reached a place which, in daylight, would have revealed an opening like the forbid one mouth of a cavern, This he entered like one in authority, there, and soon a singular apartment was revealed by a fire that blazed on a stone floor. Then the wood ghost stood revealed in the mellow light of a fine fire, and his features were brought into view, Around him were walls bare, but not mon- otonous, Some hand had covered them with singular ope drawn with various colored stones, with ws and arrows and the heads of the animals and fowls then found in the Adirondack coun- try. Further up than the tallest man could reach those grotesque pictures adorned the light stones, and the ceiling, fifty feet above the fire, was covered by the monster head of a demon — flanked by bat-like wings, a picture truly hideous and frightening in its aspect. The anaes of the drawings bordered on the grotesque and horrible; but there was one which was so suggestive of happy days and home, that it deserves more than a passing notice, It represented a cottage + ean as if by fairy hands upon the side of a To the left ran a little stream rustically bridged, and very beautiful. Beneath the great: tree that grew before the cottage and drooped protectingly over its eaves, several children were playing. ie e picture was life-like yy done in “keel,” and the colors were not dull and dead; the magic of varnish and oil seemed to have been im to them. If the wall had been decorated by the hand of the sole occupant of the cavern there was genius encom by its walls. But how did he paint the ceiling? and why cover it with that terrible monster whose ne seemed a spiritof evil 1b ing over Within the cavern, strange to say, the wild song of the Ausable wasscarcely distinguishable, The cavern was above the level of the stream; the corridor had led gradually up until it was bad men of the city send their tools after the | reached. lost girl. There are many trails among the Noarticles of furniture filled the subterranean mountains pe a on be bloody if the | abod fiends try to pierce the hiding-place of the one weall seek. Piney Paul fears not the hand of the — He saw them in the woods to-day, and they ran from him with all their Ay There was the braggadocio of the boy in all his tones; but he uttered his words with deter- inination 7 streams!” he continued, elevating his voice. “Trails to old Whiteface’s top, and beneath Racket’s waters! Trails among the pines, and j ian! Every- where trails, and for one purpose. They come for that. Gold sent them here, and there are others who hunt for gold. Back to the hidden lodge now! They know not where they run; in the mountains and along the ‘eet oe grinning face overhead, abode. ___A couch of skins directly beneath the drawing of rural peace and simplicity was the only ob- ject that suggested re . Besides several guns aod a half-concealed Trovision: chest, it was the t there. | The boy a once seemed at home in this strange place. almost tossed his gun into one corner, and flung his cap, pine plume and all, upon the couch. - ‘Piney Paul is at home!” he said, ma tiok voice, and a tone of undisguised joy. “ His lodge is reas pay hal ha! They find it not; and watch over it,” and he “ ‘The ng trail beginsnow. They are here from the city to the south, and pres will come. The the guard keeps war
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a 4 SS } ae 4 - don’t come here !” meceenndliaidiahccant Oe - FOO— Indians work for gold. They seek the same trail that Piney Paul hassought solong. Where is Nokomis? He said he would be here to-night. Where is the last chief of the mountain Upas?” In answer to the question there was the short growl of a wolf-dog. Piney Paul turned quickly at the sound, and confronted a strongly-built Indian naked to the waist. He wore no plume, but his hair was long and lay on his massive shoulders. Between his legs a vicious-looking dog was showing his teeth, as he snarled at the boy. “Nokomis!” cried Piney Paul, starting to- ward the Indian; ‘‘ they are here! He has sent them from the city to find and to slay!” “Nokomis saw them in the forest!” was the reply. ‘‘He came to tell the pine hunter that they cannot trail together.” The boy started at the Upas’s words, and his eyes flashed. “TI know his gold will be far-reaching. It will, by foul means, buy the Indian over to him; but it cannot buy Nokomis, the last of his race!” For a moment the Indian was silent. The workings of his countenance told that the outh’s speech had affected him. A mental ttle between good and evil was going on in nis mind. ‘Nokomis has said!” he said firmly, avoid- ing the boy’s gaze. ‘His gold has corrupted even you, then!” Piney Paul cried, drawing his figure to its full hight, as, with flashing eyes, he started for- ward until he found himself right before the red-skin. ‘‘ Hear me, Nokomis, the last of his race, and a traitor for the white man’s gold! They may trail, and you may trail, but I swear that you shall neverfind. I will stand between his accursed money and the hidden lodge. The trails of these mountains shall yet be sprinkled with blood! You have sold yourself. I drive ou from my | as I would drive the dog which would s my breakfast. I will watch you, mean Indian traitor! Not a word out of our lying mouth! Go! dog and all! But first, fook up and see the evil spirit that smiles upon the league you have formed with the deyils of city and forest.” he youth’s finger pointed overhead, and the Indian’s eyes followed it. For one brief moment he looked up. In that short of time his eyes took in the great devilish face and wings that covered the ceiling, and, with a shriek of terror, he turned on his heel and fled from the cavern. “Fool was I to trust that Indian!” Piney Paul said. “‘He has sold himself to Cecil Crane’s schemes, and my cave secret will fol- low him. But I willstand alone. By the God who loves the flower of the hidden lodge! I will baffle them. I was driven to these soli- tudes, and I will show them that there is a tiger in the fastnesses of this devil-land more cun- ning and relentless than the terror of the jungles. Didn’t I know that they would come some day to hunt for the hidden lodge? Will he come himself? No! he dare not invade these mountains where lurks for him the only person who wants his blood. Stay back, Cecil Crane! CHAPTER III. THE INTERRUPTED CONFERENCE. *THar’s not the sign of a boat hereabouts, an’ we've skarted the heb island. _Nokomis an’ Red Loon will not stay away much longer. What a’ye say to landin’ hyar, anyhow?” ‘* Yes, land here, Tarsus. We have not been observed, Tam sure.” : ) “Obsarved? of course not. It war quite dark when we left the shore, an’ the risin’ moon will not betray us now. This island is a place of my own pickin’, Mr, Crane. Simon hyar hadn’t a word to say in the matter. They’ call it Deer Island—the Injuns do—but they don’t know why. Nokomis, who knows every foot of the ‘ace, says he never.see’d a deer hyar. Guess it that because a deer never got eof the Adirondacks; there were rings of : ane Se white hands, and a diamond gat in the stern of a long canoe, which, be- s himself, carried the two hunters, Tarsus twell and Simon Oldfoot, SS ‘ore the Sing ¢ loomed She foxe.of ane island, roughened wi and p indentations o coast—one of. the Laagbins J poh Ba that beautify the watery of Tupper. og ‘The Hidden Lodge. The moon, deserting a bank of clouds, threw her mellow eee upon the voyageurs; but they soon passed beyond it into the shadows, and leaped ashore. “They were to meet us at a certain place, I sanDOe,! the cityfied man said, half questioning- ‘Of course,” answered Simon. ‘ We've been hyar afore an’ kin find the place. Wonderful country, this.” ‘* Nature is wild here,” was the reply. ** An’ the people, too!” ‘The Indians, you mean?” “Everybody! Bless you, Mr. Crane, i you'd seen what: Tarsus an’ me hev seen since we've come into this country, you wouldn’t be hyar to-night to meet two red-skins on Deer Island.” “Perhaps not; but I do not intend turning back until my work is accomplished,” the city man said with firmness, ‘I may be risking my life, but I will go on. There is no turning ‘back till my work is done, I care not what obstacles lie in my way. I came here for business!” There was no reply; but the two giants ex- changed looks that were significant. . The boat was moored to the body of a tree which the violence of the mountain gales had hurled into the water, and the trio pushed into the interior of the island. “They’re thar,” said Nightwell, suddenl throwing his voice over his shoulder at his fol- lowers, and a minute later five dark human fig- ures stood amid the shadows that nestled on the center of the island. “This is our master!” said Nightwell to the two Indian figures, waving his hand as he spoke toward Cecil Crane. ‘This is the white man with the gold, He will tell our red brethren what he wants. Nokomis and Red Loon must know that he never lies!” Without waiting for Nightwell to finish the introductory remarks, Cecil Crane extended his hands, which were taken by the stranger with expressive ‘‘ ughs” and “ good brothers.” ‘*T came from the great city to see you,” Cecil Crane said, as the Indians drew their figures to majestic hight, and with arms folde pon 77 on brawny chests, waited for him tos ago some evil hand stole a white child from the hese mountains and we have hunted for her; but all trails have ended sud- denly, as if the child had po pte into the water of this lake. I came to tell my red brethren that if they find the trail and bring the white child to me, I will load them down with gold, and with fine goods from the great city of my ple. My friends are here. They are skillful unters; they will trail with Red Loon and No- komis,” Cecil Crane finished, and stepping back, awaited a reply. The Indian called Red Loon, a lithe fellow, a possessed of much strength, broke the si- ence. . ‘* Red Loon will trail the child-stealer for his pele brother!” he said. ‘ He must be well paid, or does not the chief take his life in his hands? There is one who will follow Red Loon. He will tear the white child from the Indian’s arms and send a bullet to his heart. The canoe boy is a tiger. ecil Crane looked at his white companion. ** Whom does he mean?” he asked. “Tl tell ye arter ’while. Don’t let the boy bother you. We're five; he’sone. Oddsenough, Simon, eh?” ‘“‘Odds enough, Mr. Crane,” said Oldfoot. “Tell Red Loon that you'll give him all he wants. The last sentence, couched in a whisper, fell upon the white man’s ears alone, and he assured e caviling Indian that his trail should be plentifully sprinkled with gold coin. The Indian’s eyes flashed greedily. “Tt is enough!” said Loon, “We will trail the man with the white girl. The woods and rivers of this land are as open atte to Red Loon and Nokomis. Will my white brother o back?” “Nol” said Cecil Crane, quickly. “Without the girl I will never return.’ Then you never go back!” . If a thunderbolt had dropped at the feet of the five the thrilling sentence would not have startled them less. , The voice came from the impenetrable gloom s the -— ee and every face was instant- y turn ward them. Cecil Crane’s was white; a nameless terror had taken possession of it. ~ ‘Lead back your tools and get yourself from this domain!” cried the same stern voice from the shadows. “The girl whom you seek shall never fall into your hands. Between her and you stand death in more forms than one. It is decreed in heaven that your gold shall never drag her from the hidden lodge, Leave this country, Cecil Crane!” The man to whom these words were address- ed listened like a criminal at the bar to bis death sentence, and he staggered against Simtn Oldfoot with a sound—half-curse, half-cry. ** It’s a lie!” he cried, recovering himself im- pulsively and darting forward. ‘T care not if all the devils of these solitudes league against me. No voicecan drive me hence. Tarsus, Si- mon, what are Pe doing? You know this island, Follow the villain and bring him to me! But the giants did not move, and the Indians were motionless, too. “Foller a shadder or a ghost?” said Night- well, with the old leer of fright in his eyes which a fortnight previous had glittered there, ** We'll hunt the gat fur ye, an’ all that; but we wouldn’t foller the thing what spoke fur all the gold in yer chests.” “ Pish!” flashed Crane, derisively, and with anger. “To perdition with your ghosts! Red m and Nokomis, are you, too, afraid? You know this land. Follow the liar out there in the gloom, Let him not escape. Here! my | riches for his accursed scalp!” Cecil Crane tore the gold chain from his neck, and thrust it with the magnificent watch at- tached to it into Red Loon’s hand, **Red Loon is brave!” said the Indian, as he thrust the costly gift aside, ‘He will hunt the pale girl; but he stands here like a tall pine when the spirit speaks.” ‘**Cowards!” cried the baffled adventurer, his face changing from its pallor to the lividness of rage. ‘‘Ilam not afraid to face the liar. All the imps of this imp-land cannot frighten me.” With a suddenness that no one could meet, he tore the rifle from Nightwell’s gripe and bound- ed forward. : But the next instant a hand seized his-coler, and lifted him bodily from the ground. It was the hand of Simon Oldfoot,. **You’re crazy,” said the giant. ‘We'll sar- cumvent that feller out thar some time or oth- er. The advantage is all his’n now. We knows our business.” Cecil Crane was forced to listen, firmly held as he was in the vise-like grasp of Oldfoot. “The trail to the hidden lodge will be bloody!” came the voice from the darkness, “The crimes of the past shall be avenged. Tho eagles of the Adirondacks and thé wolves will piare at the bones of Ceci] Crane and his fol- owers.” Simon Oldfoot released his employer and saw him brace his courage up. ‘“‘V'll prove it all a lie!” he cried. ‘I am not afraid of you! The eagles and the wolves shall behold your carcass, and the coyotes shall quar- rel over it. Iam here, and here I stay until E- accomplish my p ! Beware, sir boaster! T have gold enough to hire every Indian in these fastnesses to you. I will make each one a The only answer was a wild, derisive laug! which seemed to set the leaves in motion as i rippled through them. os CHAPTER IV, THE SHADES OF DEATH, HatF an hour later the island on the bosom of Lake Tupper—called then by an Indian name as difficult of pronunciation as the cognomen o: Maine’s rivers—was deserted by humanity. The moon came~up gory and bathed the sleeping water and the the stately pines in a shower of silvery ligh ; Two boats were disappearing in the shadows that hugged the and, They conta ined. Cecil Crane and h no doubt, to cocayie from Deer Tdand ‘with ‘these precious lives, - In ano ite direction, an object likea small canoe wal moving from the island, cutting the — water into shining ripples, but nsaking no noise to disturb the listening ear of nature. The figure that occupied the middle of the a was boyish in proportions. It was ey © 8. - Zale et go c ve m visible to keem _ eyes - from Deer Taland It lay some distance north of the place of the interrupted conference, and was not so large as it, by pibbedey yin : When the boat touched the most adventure — some shadows of the trees, the boy lifted the
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nme we buyle to his lips and blew a blast that made the distant mountains ring with delightful echoes. He blew but once, when the bugle fell at his side, and he rested on his oars at the edge of the shade. For several moments there was no response, gnd the boy, manifesting fretful impatience, was afting the bugle again, when a sound, like the plunge of some large animal into the water, BSaused him to desist. “Tarn heard!” he said with satisfaction, as he Yeont forward to catch sight of the object that Was approaching through the water. Pres.nily the ripples sent forth by the swim- er eddiod to his boat, and then a dark shaggy ead was lifted from the lake, and two paws, drenched, but large and powerful, rested on the yunwale, ; Two paws, not hands, for the swimmer was a qnonster aig . “ $0 you héard me, Death?” the boy said, pat- ting the dog familiarly on the head. ‘‘ How is the master to-night, and the mistress, too? Do you want to rest before going back to tell them bat iamalone? No! no! Your limbs arestrong, andi am impatient. Go back now!” As the last words fell from Piney Paul’s lips, dog’s % and, wi k half human, the paws left the boat and disappeared. “JT don’t know whether If am doin trusting them,” the boy said, watching the dog’s head as it moved toward the island. “TI 7 tch enough for Cecil Crane and his hire- lings. But the old hermit knows something ‘about my life hunt, and without that knowledge I may never succeed. Let him tell me the secret, and I'll snap my fingers at the foes of the Adirondacks,” A few minutes after the dog’s departure, a singular cry came from the shadows of the d, and the canoe instantly .shot forward pringing from the barque the boy alighted on rma, and started into the interior of the islan A few steps sufficed to bring him toa strange habitation built of pine ae It was scarcely Jarge enough to comfortably accommodate a «ingle person, however few his wants, and re- sembled the lair-like abode of some barbarian. This habitation was revealed by a fire that blazed at the hovel-like door, and showed the Lard who stood there waiting to receive his wisitor. In appearance the ogre of the island tallied exactly with his surroundings. He was old, misshapen and dwarfish, His skin looked like bur parchment, or the skin of a mummy, lifeless, dark and shriveled, Two little eyes iiterally burned in his head, and the a when eden deere two rows of wolfish-like fangs. ‘clad, with powerful chest hideously tattooed as if to frighten the timid, the ogre of the island confronted Piney Paul. Place two bat-like wings at his shoulders, and the original of the ogreish portrait in the cave ‘would appear. Standing beside this imp of the Adirondacks *was the dog which had answered Piney Paul’s —a brute of unusual proportions, ferocious aspect; a Nero of his species. The eyes of the ogre danced like serpent orbs when thoy fell upon the boy advancing fear- ey into the lig’ t of the fire. **T am here!’ Piney Paul said, hal at a respectful distance from the fiend of the ** You have promised to tellme to-night. ‘There are bad men on the trail. One man’s — has jhired the Indian chiefs to hunt the hidden girl. must not find! Tell me, and inreturn you shall know where the lishman hid the gold, away back when England and America fought ene another.” The ogre’s eyes flashed with Breed aering that ee heart the love of gol pene ‘He came forward stealthily like the panther, ‘with his eyes fixed beast-like upon the boy. **I don’t like those eyes; they may mean mis- whief!” thought Piney Paul, involuntarily re- . be thrust each Soares ae stick between the a loo right in a ste “Tel ane. Ocotoc,” he said. ‘Be as good as syour word. Where is the lost lodge of the Adirondacks? The ogre did not . His fingers played mervously on the tect on which he hel ‘in his right — sats we @ / owed almost scraping groun with his belly in the cougar-like crawl. “There!” Paul, suddenly, thor- wughly sa that was evil in the ac- ‘tions of the twain before him. ‘‘ You are It you will break your word, en Nn ~ te ee eed Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. LSS OE SEE UIT Iswear that you will never know where the mad Hnglishman hid his gold and jewels. Never, so help me angels!” The boy was aroused; his eyes flashed with indignation and anger, and he raised the rifle menacingly. But ten feet intervened between him and the two savages—the ogre and his tigerish dog. * He was a goodly distance from the boat, and away from the fire the path was beset with ies = unseen obstacles. ‘You have lied!’ he flung at the Indian. “ Again and again I bave come here but to be put off. I believe you do not know anything about the hidden girl. If youdo, why do you repeatedly break ‘your oath-bound promise ? I will never come here again.” e The dwarf, almost crouching at the boy’s very feet, replied with a laugh, devilish in sound, and the dog ground his teeth. “The solitary boy disbelieves Ocotoc,” he said, speaking for the first time and in a squeak- ish tone. ‘‘He would not tell him where the yellow pebbles are if Ocotoc showed bim ther trail to the girl.” ‘Try me!” cried Piney Paul, eagerly. me, if you dare!” ‘Then tell Ocotoe first, and the trail will be made plain.” “No,” said the boy. ‘I was to give my se- cret for Seely was to have yours first—that was the bargain.” The Indian gritted his fangs and looked at the dog, who caught his glance and then fastened his se upon the boy. ‘* Pelosee,” he said. The next moment there sprung from the door of the hovel a being so striking in contrast to the ogre that Piney Paul uttered an exclamation of astonishment and started back. The new-comer upon the scene was an Indian gl, tall, beautiful antl symmetrical of limb. here was grace in her movements, and but for the mad flashings of her deep-set eyes of dark- ier bw might have been taken for the angel of e isle, | The eyes of the astonished boy became riveted upon the fascinating enchantress. They did not return to Ocotoc and Death, until his ve ‘life hung by a thread as slender as the spider spinning. Pelosee, as she was called, came forward, straight toward Piney Paul, watched: by the ogre and his dog. eC Behold the lost girl!” said Ocotoc, suddenly “Try waving his hand toward the siren. ‘She stands before the mountain boy. Ocotoc’s secret lies at his feet. Now, where is the English- man’s gold?” : ‘“ What? that girl the inmate of the hidden lodge?” cried the mountain youth. ‘I did not come here to be blindly hoodwinked. Do you think Tama fool? That girl’s skin is red; she is an Indian. I know she is not Cicely?” The forest girl who had halted before Piney Paul came forward = Sees _ The boy retreated, for she seemed transformed into a veritable “Now!” cried Ocotoc, springing erect. ‘‘He bees = not. ae Death! # Pm ough warn y the ogre’s = e Paul’s Sane age a Sor defenso lama quickly dashed aside. Simultaneously the maiden and the doe sprung upon him! . He a a with‘ the latter, and retreating fought to keep the sharp teeth from his throat. It was a combat that seemed capable of but mn’ — Scop held by wn poy, oe ngth ap prodigious, trie a sia while the red tigress, club in head, tried to beat him into insensibility, But her task was not an easy one, for the combatants, tripped un- expectedly, were on the ground, and a blow aimed at Pine Paul mi Frente the ed All at once toc with a cry called the girl off, and the two watched the fighton the ground. It was now a test of strength, for without Se of any kind at his command—his rifle having been wrenched from his by Pelo- see at the commencement of the a’ —the boy was forced to combat with the arms which na- ture had given him. Fretting like a wild animal, eager to ci- te in the battle, the island girl was, with dif- , Te by Ocotoc. Her eyes flashed fire; her hands clu nervously at her side pacity knoom heaved with the excitement of The two antagonists were almost equally matched. The dog Death, powerful as he was, found a foe worthy of his meta! in the little her- mit of the Adirondacks, With one hand at the monster’s shaggy throat ~— _ — youll ‘pay fer Quis night's work!” he cra his i Bas Ss and the other striking furious blows at his eyes, Piney Paul fought with the courage of a ‘Turk. The dog began to succumb atlast. The gripe on his throat tightened like a vise. At length Piney Paul, with a sudden effort, threw him off and sprung to his feet. His victory was greeted with cries of rage, and he suddenly found himself confronted by Ocotoc and the beautiful tigress, Pelosee. The dog, placed hors du combat, was lying at the ogre’s feet, rolling his eyes and gasping fov' breath. The choking and the blows in the side had well-nigh finished him. Piney Paul was desperate! With a wild exclamation of defiance, ha sprung for his rifle, which, as he touched it, was snatched up by Peloseé. But the boy with a quick movement wrenched it from her grasp and hurled it above his head. The mad siren did not retreat from the threatened blow. She sprung upon him with the bound of the. jungle king, uttering a half- brutish cry, and the mountain boy struck with all his might. But a stout pine limb arrested the blow, which otherwise would have crushed the vixen’s skull, oe a rifle, shivered at the lock, fell from his nds! Piney Paul uttered a cry of horror, and before he could recover, he found himself in the arms of the red giantess. She held him out to the hideous Ocotoec in triumph, and her laugh rung in the boy’s ears like the knell of doom, CHAPTER V. THE PIT OF WOLVES. THE situation of the Adirondack hermit was now critical in the extreme. : Weakened by his cng. struggle with Death babi he was as ac ild in the sinewy arms of elosee. The witch of the island held him out at arms’ length until Ocotoc had glutted his curiosity upon him, Piney Paul did not resist; he looked into the eyes of his captor and saw no rae of mercy there. If Pelosee was Ocotoc’s child, she had inherited the nature of her sire. “Will the mountain boy tell where the En- glishman’s yellow rocks are now?” cried the satyr, coming forward with that avaricious yearning of the miser shooting from bis eyes, ‘He is a caught bird, and Pelosee bloody the feathers on his throat if he tells not.” The threat found confirmation in the eyes of the witch. The twain understood one another perfectly, “Do you_ think I would tell you, when you would say I lied, and kill me anyhow?” the lit- tle hermit said to the Indian. “TI am not the fool for whom you take me—not by a long shot! Stars and garters! I don’t give secrets away. Where is the lost white girl?—where is the hid- re el Tell me that, and then ask about the go The boy seemed to forget that he was in the power of the spirits of the island. The long trail of his life rose paramount to death in that perilous hour. He thought onl of discovering that secret which the wild ‘Adv rondacks kept studiously hidden somewhere in their fried recesses—a secret for which he had buried himself from civilization, trailing the In- dian, the wolf, and the bear, with the hope of _ solving it, and righ & monstrous wrong. For a brief moment Ocotoc did not repl fo the boy’s demand, which, considering his situation, smacked strongly of the ludicrous. Piney Paul saw the dry skin darken, and the wrinkles of the brow contract, A thunder-cloud seemed to lower itself upon the Indian’s face; the flashing of his eyes were the arrows of light- gs, Dan constantly cleaved the gloom. ‘There is a place where the mountain wild, cat will tell!” he said ee any. and with rancor. ‘‘ there, for his limbs are weak, and he aigrt fall. Pelosee will take thither, and ho shall tell her where the or—be vi alone!” The words “be left alone” seemed indicative of some terrible doom. the Indian’s Soger, an Pine Paul oe borne from spot by his cap= “Tt I live to leave this infernal at the dwarf, whose look told | his heart was beating with fiendish ¢
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Though his feet touched the ground he took but few steps in the natural gait. One of Pelo- seo’s hands griped his arm like a shackle, and the fingers seemed to encirele the very bone it- self. He could not have broken from that fetter of flesh, any more than he could have torn him- self from the rack of Spanish torture. Pelosee was not the only guard,'for there trot- ted at his heels the dog, his late antagonist, somewhat recovered, and ready to rend him to pieces at the bidding of the island witch. After awhile the party began to ascend the side of an acclivity. Pelosee pushed her way | peculiar barking, which was immec through the small brush that fringed the foot of | the rise, and entered the line of trees. Piney Paul looked up and saw the moonlight far above him. He was ee by the sight, for a moment; _ but when he recollected that many of the isl- ands of the Adirondack lakes contained single aks of startling hight, he ceased to wonder. eer Island boasted of several mountainous ele- vations which were visible from a great dis~ taiice. Why should not the ogre’s land, though much smaller, contain at least one such¢ ~ No words were ee Pelosee paused as if to make sure of her ings. “The Indian girl is lost,” Piney Paul said, noting her perplexed east of countenance. ‘She lives on the island. Nobody ought to get lost at home!” “Pelosee is not lost,” was the reply. ‘‘ The rain has fallen on the narrow path. Pelosee and Ocotoc do not come up here often!” The Indian girl had halted in the moonlight, and Piney Paul took a good look at her features. When she had first lea from the piney hut at Ocotoe’s command, she appeared a vision of beauty, and the boy again noted that his first glance had not deceived him. The face was oval and faultless to the minu- test particular. The dark hair of the Indian maiden belonged to Pelosee in all its loveliness and wealth. It fell undressed to her glossy shoulders, and, falling over them, increased the romance of her appearance. Her dress, a beaded pacque, mocecens Hie the knees, was a very mar- vel of backwoods ingenuity, and the leggings of dressed buck-skin ended at the top of handsome moccasins, While Piney Paul was engaged in studying his captor, she moved on again, and the ascent of the mountain became somewhat tiresome. But Pelosee still clutched the boy’s arm, and helped him over the uneven ground with much apparent “Ts that man down there your father?” Piney Paul suddenly said, looking up into the girl’s face, ‘‘It doesn’t 2 age! to me that he can be. You're downright good-looking, and live in the wrong company. By the great bear! I would say that you were born a long way from that little old devil below us.” “Hush!” cried Pelosee, her gripe tightening till the little hermit bit his lips in pain. ‘* Pe- losee wasn’t born at all. She came in a storm to the island, and Ocotoc is the child of the Great Spirit.’ ; “Gimminy and crickets!” cried Piney Paul. ‘** ’d rather be born right than come to such a home in a storm, leastwise in the kind o’ storms that sometimes thunder through these moun- tains. So Ocotoc is one of God’s children, eh? ee + I’m one of the few people on earth who don’t believe-that. But it was a pretty storm what fetched you here, Pelosee—a little moun- tain shower when the sun was shining.” The Indian witch did not reply to the boy’s flattery, but gave him a look of more feeling than sas had yet bestowed, and kept on. “Do you know anything about the hidden girl?’ Piney Paul ed, ‘Tell me, Pelosee, and I will never forget you.” The answer was a rude jerk. “The mountain boy will soon forget Pelo- see,” were the re mg words. ‘She knows where the whi ower grows in the lost lodge; but her lips are shut.” The boy darted her a scrutinizing look. There was honesty in her demeanor, candor in her tone. “Shut, are they?” he cried, stopping and fore- her to pause. “Won't go epen LS Tell me, Pelosee, and all the gold o pe g- lishman shall be yours. Tell me and let me go, and I'll load you ddéwn with the yellow dirt.’ - No! Pelosee don’t want the yellow dirt. But he will tell her where it is before she lets him go.” a Without you telling me about the hidden girl? No!” ~ Pelosee will see.” - The trio were going up the side of the moun- tam in the moonlight. : Piney Paul noticed that the air got rarer as they advanced, and that the mountain sides were becoming rocky and rough, with chasms here and there, and holes like volcanic craters. He had clambered to the top of Whiteface, and from thence surveyed the rough landscape of the Adirondacks; but he belicyed that he was ascending a peak which, if not so elevated, was grander than that king of mountains All at once Pelosee stopped and spoke to Death. The dog, as if understanding her, set up a liately an- swered ‘by the distinct howls of wolves which seemed to emanate from the bowels of the earth, but at a point still above them, “Wolves by hokey!” the mountain hermit involuntarily exclaimed. ‘ They don’t get this far up on the mainland mountains.” “They stay here!” Pelosee answered; with mysterious significanee. “The little wood-cat will see.” A few steps further ou brought the trio to one of the numerous hollows or basins which we have casually mentioned. It was almost square, and seemed some dark cellar formed by the hands of mountain imps. From its depths came a series of wolfish howls that rivalled Boater: Piney Paul heard the ravenous animals fight- ing each other, and caught glimpses of brute figures in furious combat. he moonlight fell upon one of the walls of the basin, and its silver, glancing therefrom, but vaguely revealed the occupants of the natural cage. a Ocotoe caught the wild dogs when the snow covered them in the mountains,” Pelosee said, suddenly answering Piney Paul’s mental ques- tion of “how came the wolves there?” ‘ Pelosee feeds them when she likes; but for three nights they have not tasted meat.” Did the boy shudder? If he did not, nothing could appall him! ‘““T guess I see throngh the matter,” he said looking up into the girl’s face, now calm an not stern. ‘I’m to go down among them if I don’t tell you about the gold.” 3 . ae says Ocotoc, the child of the Great pirit. ‘Or somebody else’s devil!” said Piney Paul madly. ‘See here, Pelosee, what have you go againstme? Must you kill because he says ‘kill? Gimminy and crickets! you might want help somewhere some o’ these days. Besides, the white girl is poor; she is hunted by bad men; she is your sister, Pelosee, and mine, too.” The-.girl’s eyes softened and fell upon the mountain sf ‘‘Pelosee has no sister,” she said. ‘The mountain cat wants to make her his squaw,” “Youre getting jealous. It’s all out 0’ place here. Pelosee, there is a land far from this island where there is an empty lodge. We would be happy, there. No Ocotoc, no little hut of pine boughs.” 6 girl was silent. “‘T would come back,” said the boy, continu- ing quickly. ‘Go and tell Ocotoc that I was thrown to the wolves. He will believe.” “ But the dog would say that Pelosee comes back with a forked tongue,” said the Indian, hes- itating. Piney Paul looked at his 0. . the dog. The animal was lying on the ground with hi head over the rim of the basin, snarling at his wilder brethren, the wolves. “He will never tell!” the boy cried. “You can tell Ocotoc that he fell in trying to bite me. There!” . The next moment there was a loud ery of canine terror, and Death went headlon; into the pit, sent to his doom by the young imp’s foot, Pelosee uttered an exclamation of horror, and Piney Paul found himself lifted from the ground. - ‘The Mountain Cat must follow the dog! But he shall have a knife to fight the wolves with. Pelosee was going to let him hunt the hidden girl; but_now—now he must go down to the wolves—down to the mad mountain dogs!” Piney Paul caught the glitter of a knife as it was thrust into his belt, and the next instant he was pushed over the edge of the basin. For onemoment, awful and brief, Pelosee held him in mid-air, and then he fell down—down among the wolves fighting over the quivering body of the dog Death! CHAPTER VI. THE MUTINY. DAYLIGHT, when it broke, found Cecil Crane and his followers pushing through a rough forest of pine and hemlock. ‘ enemy SE The party was guided by Red Loon, in whose tracks Nokomis the Upas trod with the noiseless tread of the panther. By and by the guide turned abruptly aside, and the ascent of a mountain began. Slowly up the steep sides the party toiled, and when the peak had been scaled, a view, un- equaled in grandeur, burst upon their vision. ha Adirondark conntry in its nrimitive whdq- ness, lay aronnd them, its sheets of land-locked waters, its immense forests and towering cleva- tions. While the scene called forth exclamations of surprise and wonder from the whiter, the two Indians did not appear in the least affe: ted. ‘Fo them the sight was commonplace; they had wit- nessed it so often that no wonder clung; to it. ‘Somewhere yonder is the hiddin lodge,” Red Loon said, with a circling sweep of his scar- let hand, as he ttuned to Cecil Crane. “ ‘The trails are long; they are dark; they lead to death!” A slight pallor overspread the hunter’s face. “‘T am prepared for anything!” he said with an effort, ‘‘Do not seek to discourage :ne with an enumeration of the difficulties that will beset us. Let us put a truce to such things and plunge into the work at once,” ‘The Indians exchanged glances, and Nokomis nodded. “Come!” he said, turning to Crane. ‘‘ There is something for the white man to see.” The tone in which the chief uttered his words and the look that accompanied them, startled Tarsus Nightwell. ‘* Hold jon, thar!” he cried, seizing the Upas as he was about to turn away. ‘‘I don’t want to see everything in these infernal mountains. I didn’t come hyar to hunt up every phost-hole, but to find the lost gal. Blame me! if J goa step, fur I know that you’re Sond to show wu) something awful. Take Mr. Crane with ye. | kin hunt better if I don’t see sartin things, per- pene ‘rane turned upon the giant with a look of mingled scorn and rage. ‘ ‘“‘T didn’t think you were so superstitious!” he said, scarcely able to bridle his ire, “Cet out of that or we will never find our prey.” ‘* See hyar, Mr. Crane, ’m a man, Iam!” was the retort, “By the jumpin’ jingo! I’)! do as I please; go whar I want, to, an’ stop when an’ whar I see fit. You'll wish yerself back in the city afore you're a week in this devil-land.. Me an’ Simon arn’t afeard of all the wolves an’ Injuns in creation, but when you bucl. us ag’in’ spooks an’ sich things, by the holy stars! we » must run when we think best.” The girl hunter turned abruptly away, ‘Lead on, Nokomis. J will look at an thing” and, with a look of almost fiendis scorn said to his white tools: “Stay here if you are afraid,” / With ae looks and incoherent curses, which boded ill for the expedition, were the re- torts. The two giants remained standing in their tracks, while the Indians led Ceci! Crane around a ledge of whitened made ghastly by the presence of some lifeless lichens, and dis- a se hee “"They’re cowards at heart!” muttered the white man. “TI heartily wish they would de- sert me. My red friends are not such fools,” Nokomis leading the way gradually veered to the left as if encircling the peak, The rocks now huge and bare rose about them, mwigh en! ergs of stone for the hand of nature artists. All at once the Upas halted and turned upon the white. “Our white brother is cunning!” he, said. ‘He can read the signs in the sky and tellabout . the rain and the sun, Can he read that?” Cecil Crane saw the Indian pointing to a large rock upon whose side the rays of the morning sun were beating. It seemed abla with burnished gold; but a second look reveal- ed some rude lettering thereon, and, eager to see, Crane stepped aside to obtain a proper view. us y The rock towered for thirty feet above him, and there upon its bleached surface was the fol- lowing sentence: . “ Death awaits Cecil Crane in the land of the hidden lodge!” ‘ The Indians watched the workings of the white man’s countenance as he read the words sculptured in the rock. It becamg white as the snows that crowned the crest of Whiteface, and he started back with quivering lip. “Who did it?’ he cried, pointing to the rock. “Ask the Manitou!” was the reply. “ Leon and Nokorais do not know.” a. é a : ay Pe M4 ‘ an om BS Tiniaccaaeal ot . PRE 1g a ee
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Beadle’s HalfDime Library. Cecil Crane stared at the warning, reading it | turn from Death to the rich morsel of brave | the edge of the wolves’ den, and a human figure and again. ‘‘Tt is everywhere!” said Nokomis. ‘‘ Does the white man know what it means?” “Yes! but it is a lie!” cried Cecil Crane. ‘* What if I left this land to-day?’ : “Toes the strange marks say that the white man is hunted?’ questioned Red Loon curiously. ‘Tt makes no difference what they say!” was the tart reply. “I say they lie, and that is enough. Let us go back, if this is all you had to show me.” ; “Tt is allnow. But the white man will see more by ’m by!” The party now set out upon their return, and | in a short time rejoined the two giants who awaited them. ‘Wal, what did the red-skins show ye?” asked Nightwell. Something of no moment,” was the reply. **T should Why, it looks like an ice thin rg or some sich g. Simon and me’s been thinkin’. Look peeeney which she had dropped into their en. The youth alighted sooner than he had hoped to, and fortunately on a spot unoccupied by the wolves, who, at the further side of the pit, were rending the unfortunate island dog. He drew his knife and awaited the merciless onslaught which he believed would soon follow. But in this he was disappointed. The gaunt animals, six in number, seemed de- termined to. finish Death, the dog, before paying their respects to the new-comer, and the moun- tain boy, hugging the blood-bespattered wall of the cavern, held his knife ready for the combat. It soon became evident that the animals were not aware of his presence, for he had dropped noiselessly into the shadows of their rocky cage, while they were contending for the dog’s flesh. But this ignorance could not be expected to con- hink not, jedgin’ from yer face. | tinue long. Was there no retreat? Piney Paul looked up and saw the glitter of hyar, Mr. Crane, we hevn’t got one dollar yet | the stars; he saw the moonlight lying like silver fur all our trudgin’ in this kentry. Hadn better 8 ood up a little?” Ceci *t you | upon the rim of the basin. But no friendly rope hung over his head, and no voice bade him stand Crane, in no good humor, flashed at the | firm until safety came, aker like a heap of ignited powder. Nightwell had applied the fire to his ire. i “You know i bergen he cried. need no money here. I employ you can go—both of you.” “"No sech talk as that or thar’ll be a row in camp. Tt looks like didn’t know this when we came hyar—did we, on? «You “Not by a long shot!” growled the second mutineer. For a moment the white men glared into each | other’s eyes. Within the last few hours Cecil Crane had ‘witnessed ences to render him a desperate man, He was esperate. “Say it quick!” blurted Tarsus Nightwell. **Ts it to be pony or separation?’ The giant looked af the knife that stuck in his heavy leathern belt, but quick and brief as the glance was, Cecil Crane caught it. In an instant he took the rifle from Red Loon’s hands, and Nightwell, as he started back with a curse, found the muzzle of the cocked weapon at his breast. Simon Oldfoot stared at the thrilling tableau. “Which will you do now—follow me hence- forth without grumbling or die where you stand? cried Cecil Crane. “What's the use of puttin’ the question in that wuy?’ said the giant, whose face was white. ‘*‘ You’ve got the upper hand, Mr. Crane; but, by the want to go out just yet, nor in this way, 80 we'll trump up matters in different aa om ‘*You’re getting sensible now,” said Crane, keeping the rifle at Nightwell’s breast. ‘‘ Down! and swear to follow me—no, to carry out your of the agreement! Both of youdown!” The men did not hesitate, but fell wpon their knees, and took the solemn oath which fell from | Cecil Crane’s lips. The rifle was then returned to Red Loon, and without another word the party began to de- scend, Cecil Crane had quelled a serious mutiny, but he had forced an oath upon two of the greatest bie, eg upon earth. ‘he foot of the mountain was reached at a place quite distant from the beginning of the ascent. The forest was disfigured by a rough undergrowth of hemlock which impeded loco- motion, and Be was necessarily slow. eat 3 himself, Tarsus Nightwell walked behind his forest. companio mn. Now and then ke laid his hand on the hilt of his knife, and once he tried to push Simon aside. But Oldfoot refused to obey, and shook his head when he saw the knife leap from the leathern “Not now, Tarsus!” he whispered, and the giant put the blade away, and doggedly resumed 6 journey, Cecil Crane was walking over a smoldering voleano; but gold could keep the fires in abey- ance. CHAPTER VIL. PINEY PAUL AND THE WOLVES. PxiosEE£, the island witch, bounded down the — — after dropping Piney Paul into the pit of wolves. Bie did not stay to see the ravenous beasts cc ae et ve =: By the pe ard jingo we mean business! | eath to stay with you, We | oly stars, if [hed you whar | you hev me thar’d be somebody shot. I don’t | Tarsus | _ Safety! from whence would it come tothe boy in the pit of wolves? He saw the battle end over the last bone. He you want to leave my | heard new growls of wolfish rage and blood- thirstiness, and saw mad eyes turn suddenly | upon him. FS SS oe ae . —- -- a a r= sey EE SSE ee en es Se He was discovered, and the fight for life—the ean fight as it terribly seemed—was about to n! fie ran his left hand over the walls about and above him, with the hope that niches or steps might be found in the yielding rocks. or was the search fruitless, for his hands touched a shelf in the rock above, and the next moment he stood above the stony projection, But this good fortune promised little hope, his feet but five feet from the floor; but with the mn ae engendered by despair, Piney Paul fell to work on the wall with his knife. The rock yielded, like half-baked clay, and he drew himself up higher. Now the wolves were at him; they sprung up and scraped the soles of his moccasins, while he held his breath and toiled for life. Glancing down, he saw the eagerness of the bloodthirsty animals. They were contending with them- selves for the right to leap at the escaping ee Holding with his left hand and feet to t niches, he toiled with his right asa human never toiled before. He saw the stars far above, and the moonlight around the basin’s rim seemed as far off as ever. ; ** Just let me out o’ this!” he cried, as if appeal- ing to the glittering orbs of night. ‘‘ Just let me get out o’ this death-hole, an’ the she-devil who put me here will know that I can punish. They are on the trail now, and I am here with six wolves ready to tear me limb from limb. Snakes and witches! if I had a ladder!” The last word had scarcely left the brave boy’s lips, when there came a sharp sound, the snapping of steel, and the shining knife, broken at the handle, fell at the feet of the wolves! Piney Paul was yet several feet from the rim of the basin, and his last; avenue of escape now suddenly had closed to him, and life seemed only to be measured by the limits of bodily endur- ance. The wolves seemed to comprehend the situa- tion, for their loud howls had ceased, and they were looking up at the mountain boy clinging to the rock wall. ‘How long can I hang here?’ Piney Paul asked himself “T might hang for six hours if I was fresh; but ve worked hard to art here, and that’s against me. But Vl hang till I drop —that’s as certain as they are watching me down there.” ‘He felt the body succumbing to the intense strain endured foran hour or more with great Sear rheavy and painful fr ist arms grew heavy and pa rom wris to shoulder, and a sald Sess attacked his hands. Piney Paul Jooked up imploringly to heaven. He saw the dancing firmament, then the form of some overshadowing ogre seemed to darken the mouth of the pit, and a great arm came down after him. He shrunk involuntarily from the vision, a loud shriek pealed from his throat, and his fingers left the rocky wall. e wolves sprung to their feet and rushed forward; but the boy did not fall. On the contrary, he was lifted from the basin by the hand which had appeared to him as the claw of some demon. : ‘He lay white and motionless on the rocks at bent over him. It was Pelosee! CHAPTER VIII. THE LONG SOUGHT TRAIL. Ir was not for the p of snatching Piney Paul from the horrors of the basin that Pelosee had returned. Having dropped her victim among the raven- ous animals she fled down the mountain side, nor paused until she found herself amid the un- dergrowth at the base. Then fear and terror took sudden possession of-her heart. She was returning to Ocotoc with- out the dog Death! For years the animal had guarded the island home; he and the imp occupied the same cot; they were inseparable! hat punishment would. be visited u her for the animal’s death, Pelosee did net know. But the thought of incurring Ocotoc’s blind fury made her halt in the woods and hesitate. She would not face the ogre. Better flight from the island, or death, than that ordeal, Pelosse turned and went back with the deter- mination of casting herself Into the pit and sharing the fate of Piney Paul and Death. She reached the horrid den in time to see the brave boy reeling into insensibility, and about to give up the struggle which, for two terrible hours, he had carried on with such fortitude, At sight of him a new desire—an eager reso- lution—flashed into her heart. ’ She would not die! She would fly the island, and that with the boy whom she had lately doomed. Then her hand fell upon Piney Paul, and with her Amazonian strength she drew him out of the jaws of death and laid him down at the rim of the pit! : He lay like one dead in the weird moonlight that lay upon the crest of the mountain. His face was ashy, and his hands were torn by the rough edges of the niches, But he was not dead; Pelosee saw that the boy, exhausted by his long endurance, had fainted. She did not try to revive him there, but lifted him as he was and went down the mountain. Behind her the wolves were howling and gnashing their teeth in rage and disappointment. The first streaks of dawn were penetratin the forest when the witch reached sha low lan with her still unconscious burden, Her face was hot and there was triumph in her eye. : Once at the foot of the mountain, Pelosee dis- covered the path which led to the island hut, and set off through the pines in an almost oppo- site direction. A short journey brought her to the waters of the lake, and, singular to say, to the very spot where the boat of the mountai boy was moored. he Indian witch waded into the clear, cold water, and deposited her burden on the bottom of the craft, which she then loosened and took possession of herself. .A moment later the little craft was skimming over the water like a swal- low, the ripples, sppee with gold by the morn- ing sun, dancing about the stern. ; elosee plied the paddles with accomplished dexterity, which npg a roved that she was no novice in their use, ben she was not looking at the Jark land which lay ahead, her eyes rested upon the boy. There was much of native gentleness in the glance. The old flash of fire had left the siren’s eyes. She loved Piney Paul, The mainland gradually prem, distinct in its varied shapes and shades. The trees stood out in bold individuality, and thé mountains, at first so distant, appeared very near, Piney Paul did not open biseyes until Pelosee with vigorous strokes was darting toward a lit- tle cove above which rose a mass of gray rocks! , At first he did not comprehend the si but when he saw the face above—when he re- membered the dark hand which crept over the edge of the pit in that awful moment—he knew that he was rescued. ’ His stare was met by a smile that illumined Pelosee’s face, and releasing one of the paddles her hand passed gently over his forehead. ‘Good! The mountain boy’s head is not hot!” she said, with manifest joy. ‘The wolves will never get him now.” “But where are we going?’ asked Paul. ‘*Gimminy crickets! This. beats my time alt holler. Say, isthis my boat?” The girl nodded “Snakes and witches, what does it all mean, mainland, Over anyhow? Why, we’re nigh the ee Se ee ee
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of con! - sought trail. —— there is Eagle Nest, standing up like a giant! We've got around Deer Island where I met the hunters last night. You didn’t go back to the oldman. Afraid to go without the dog, eh?” “Pelosee couldn’t-stand before Ocotoc and say that the big dog was dead,” was the reply. ‘He’d fume, I guess, over such a catastro- h3,” smiled Piney Paul, ‘I did the work, and T tino that that kick o’ mine got me into the hole, didn’t it, Pelosee?” “ Pelosee like big dog, and when the Moun- tain Cat threw him down to the wolves, arrows of madness, hot as fire, shot into her heart.” “And the Old Harry danced in your eyes,” said the boy. ‘But it’s all over now. You came back and saved me. That is good. I owe ou a life, Pelosee, and you will not find Piney a'1l ungrateful. here are we going! That’s the quastion that puzzles me, and besides, I’m sort o’ hungry.” ‘“Where would the mountain boy like to go?” asked Pelosee, with a curious expression of countenance. Piney Paul started at the interrozative. “There’s one place above allothers, not just now excepting paradise,” he cried, with eager- ness. ‘“‘ Pelosee, you know where it is. ou told mo last night that you did. Thither would go. Where is the lost lodge?” The little hermit of the Adirondacks watched her with great anxiety and impatience; he aie his breath and heard the beating of his own eart. But Pelosea’s eyes wandere1 from his face, anithe paddles rested in the limpid water. “* Where, Pelosee, oh where is it?” cried Piney Paul, unable to restrain his feelings. ‘*1¢ is where the white-faces wi if Pelosee doss not tell,” she said. “ But you will tell. Yes, you are going to tell ms that I may kesp her from the hounds that seek her for her blood,” “* And the mountain boy would forget Pelosee, and go and live with the lost girl?” Tho island witch was jealous. “Bat I will never forget you! Why, your han lifted me from the mouths of the wolves and I would bea dog if Idid not love my re sister for this. Pelosee, I have spent five years of my life among these mountains hunting for the lost lodge, It is lost to me yet. my trails have ended suddenly like the path on the brink of a precipice. But you know where the hiddea wigwam is. Will you not tell me, and together we will go to it?” Pelosee’s eyes flashed with delight. ** Will the white hunter go with Pelosee?” she cried. ‘*Yos!” was the answer. ‘Only put an end to my long trails. I will follow you to the lost lodze.” The boat touched the bank as Pinoy Paul uttered the last words and the occupants de- barked. . “Sink the boat!” said Pelosee, and the craft was sent below the surface, there to remain aintil needed again. ; A minute later the pair were pushing through the forest. ‘* Pelosee,” said the boy suddenly touching his guide's arm and causing her to hatt. ‘We are traveling without arms of any kind. The lost home is far away, perhaps.” “Tt is far away,” was the echo. ‘““My home is near,” he said. ‘There are weapons there, and food, too, Pelosas.” The girl hesitated and cast her eyes at the sun, * ““Wecan go to the mountain boy’s lodge,” she said, ‘‘ but we must not stay long, “There are others on the trail. ‘Yes, and we must outwit them. Now at last, Cacil Crane, Iam on the right trail!” The halt and consultation resulted in a change , and after several hours of uninterrup- te 1 journeying, Pelosee for the first time entered Piasy Paul’s hidden home. _ In the light of a cheerful fire the two new friends discussed a meal, and after a brief rest the cave was left behind. . Piney Paul was eager to ste He resolved to girl and to obey her implicitly. Once more he was threading the damp rocks never find it upon the long- tee the Indian "washed by the stream that thundered’ by his cave-home. The cliffs towered for many feet above them, but he was leading Pelosee to the woods above by a c stairway which to-day 4g the wonder and delight of tourists. All at once Pelosee uttered an eiaculation that startled Piney Paul. He turned as her hand fell upon his arm, and beheld her pointing over- head. ; _ He looked up. The gorge was not wide, and at the little The Hidden Lodge. they were midway between the foaming water and the top of the cliffs, A glance told Piney Paul that the place was not unknown to him, for upon several occasions he had crossed the chasm on the tree which some furious storm had converted into a bridge. The bridge was there spanning the wild Adi- rondack river at that giddy hight; but it was swaying beneath the weight of a human figure. Piney Paul and his guide kept their eyes riveted upon the form which, approaching from the left bank of the river, gradually came into view, proceeding with that caution which the hour demanded. It was the figure of an Indian, and as he reached the middle of the log, with steady tread, Piney Paul whispered to Pelosee; ** Nokomis!” ** One red man has crossed!” was the answer. ** It is Red Loon!” said the boy. The Upas crossed the dangerous bridge in safety, and then the figure of a white man a peared thereon. He was followed by another member of the race. “Now for the greatest villain of the gang!” Piney Paul eter through clenched teeth, with his eyes still fixed on the frail bridge. “I don’t like to wish any bad things, but I wouldn’t try to save him if [ saw the bridge giving way be- neath him. I wish it would!” A fifth figure was on the tree, crossing slowly, and with evident trepidation. ‘Cecil Crane, I'll end your trail here. You shall not live to baffle me at the very threshold of success.” Piney Paul’s eyes were sparkling like coals. The sight of the white man on the log goaded him to uncontrollable madness, Qnick as a flash he raised his rifle, and the click, click of the lock, as the flint flew back, startled Pelosee. She saw the weapon directed upward, caught the flash of the hermit’s orbs as they covered the doomed man, and then thrust the rifle downward with her sinewy arm! “No!” she cried, ‘“‘not now. The pale-face is on his last trail. His grave must not be the waters.” The boy darted a maddened look at the girl. But she firmly held the rifle down. “Look up!” she said. ‘The mountain boy can shoot now.” puey Paul looked up. The log was still swinging over the chasm; but Cecil Crane had disappeared. ppe ‘It may be all right,” said the little hermit; | » “but it looked like a sin to let that villain es- rene He may be on the trail that leads to the hidden lodge, even now.” Pelosee did not reply. ; That scene, accompanied by bitter regrets, was to return to her thoughts before many days. CHAPTER IX, THE BROKEN INTERVIEW.” Far up in the wild Adirondack region, girt in by mountains whose ragged crests them- selves toward the clouds, lies a placid sheet of water which seems to sleep continually on the bosom of nature. At the time of which we write—the beginning of the present century—the adventurous white man had not disturbed its repose, and the wild- ness that encompassed it seemed entirely un- broken by humanity. It was not a large lake, but large enough, withal, to boast of a wooded island, which, like an emerald gem in dark blue setting, lay in the center. Tall pines, clad in the peculiar foliage that add to the Ser egarnon of the trees, stood like guardians at the water’s edge, and at the pro r season dropped their resinous cones into e lake. The roaming savage in his trails had glanced d and don. The prowlin panther had swum to it on more than one pred- atory excursion, and had returned *> the main- land with hungry maw, for no game offered itself to his appetite. But the island was inhabited. One night several days after the occurrence of the scenes recorded in the last chapter, the a Poa of a young girl appeared at the water’s ge and raised a little boat which had been concealed beneath the surface, There was grace in the movements of the girl- ish figure, which was tastefully clad in comfor- tably fitting forest garb. But the faco was white; the long golden hair which fell upon the well-rounded shoulders and rested lightly there contrasted well with the mild blue eyes that glowed beneath long silken lashes. The hair was not confined, and its only ornament was a eaunannactanstn ew sme Sennen oe nen aa tiny arrow tipped with bright feathers; the mid- dle of the shaft was concealed by the flowi tresses, while the shining barb and beauti feathers conspicuously ‘showed their salient ints. The island beauty was not armed, as if no danger lurked around; and after bailing the boat, an cperation which was quickly performed by dextrously tipping it, she step into the craft and pulled for the mainland. A few easy strokes served to bring the boat to the shore, and she left it and for a moment stood revealed in the silvery moonlight which flooded the spot. It was evident that the girl was rage ey an appointed meeting, for her actions denoted this. But who could the lover be, in that wild, unfre- quented chamber of nature? We shall see. Shortly after the landing there came a sound from the shadows of the woods that brought a geal smile to the girl’sface. She did not ny hough the step was cautious and full of stealth, but stood erect with her eyes fixed upon the figure slowly appearing among the pines. At last she was joined by a person to whom she held out her white hands, and her name, gently spoken by the new-comer, had a mu- sical sound. “Little Arrow is here. The Red Eagle knew that she would meet him and <r her word,” The speaker was a veritable Indian Apollo. He had not passed his eighteenth year; his form was symmetrical, his clothes close-fitting, and, after the backwoods manner, fashionable; his scalp-lock oiled, like the hair of the dandy. In face he was, for one of his race, remarkably handsome; his eyes were large lustrous, and full of expression, and the hand that grasped the ornamented rifle which he trailed at his sido was womanish in its creation, That the pair were lovers, notwithstanding the contrasting hue of skin, was evident. The attitude in the moonlight, the deep look into each other’s eyes, the meeting, told this. “T will never turn back when I can meet you,” the white girl said, looking up into the Indian’s face. “What havo you been doing away so long?” “‘Red Eagle has been in the forest. He has seen figures there like the beings from Manitou- land, They build fires in the mountains, and talk in a language that Red Eagle does not un- derstand,” ‘ ** Are they white?” asked the girl, curiously, “Three are white, and the skin of the pei de two is red,” was the reply. The youth poke in the almost extinct lan- guage of the Mohicans, and Little Arrow an- swered him fluently in the same tongue. The girl was perplexed. “Five persons in the forest?” she said, as if communing with herself; but the wily ears of the young Indian heard. “Five!” he exclaimed, holding up his left hand with the fingers outspread, : For a moment she was silent; her head lay lightly, Pens upon her bosom, and when she lifted it it was to say: ‘*What else has Red Eagle seen? We will not think of the five hunters. They will not find Little Arrow and her father.” , The Indian’s countenance was troubled. He was ill at ease, and the words of the girl failed to reassure him. “ This did Red weer find in the forest!” he said, as his hand glic ed beneath the folds of his hunting-jacket, ‘ By the falls where the rocks are sharper than knives it lay, as if the rocks had pulled it from the foot.” The speaker held up to the girl a moccasin beaded curiously from heel to toe, and orna- mented by fringe, which had met with rough usage in the wood. : ! ttle Arrow greeted the object with an ex- clamation of wonder, and, taking it from Red as hand, held it up in the moonlight and admired it. , , ; ** Whose can it be?’ she asked, with a glance at the Indian. ‘‘ Was it worn to the rocks, or did the waters carry it-to the place?” ‘Where Red Hea found it, there it vag lost,” was the reply. ‘There were tracks along the river. ttle Arrow, the woods are full of strange people. They are not on the trail for any good. They will be here by and “No, no!” cried the girl, shuddering, and her e. “Do not say that they will face grew ps come to the island, Red Eagle, We aro happy there.” “ But it is not Little Arrow’s home,” the young ju ote es ‘She was not born there, away tot a sors where the great lodges of the wa
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8 SE | EES ES ST OA — “* How do you know this? Who has been talk- ing to Red Eagle in the forest?’ ‘No one has talked to him. His heart says that Little Arrow came from the south. Her face is white. The skin of Patagan is red.” “ But I don’t know anything about my girl- hood,” was the reply. ‘‘I have always lived here, and with Patagan on the pretty island. ANU, tved Maple, dain NOUVITOIN Lue preay Civies | tothe south. I was born here, but why my face is white I do not know. Patagan does, per- haps, but I never bothered him about it. am happy here.” he Indian seemed baffled on the very thresh- old of suecess. The words of the girl non- plused him for a moment. “Then the white men should go back and make Red Eagle*happy, too,” he said. ‘‘ While they are here he cannot smile when the birds oe They hunt Little Arrow. He is sure of . “But why?’ and the girl started. ‘Who told them that I am here. No, they hunt the one who dropped her moccasin by the river; they do not trail me.” Red Eagle’s eyes glistened. “Red Eagle had not thought of that,” he said. “True, how did they know—if they do know—that Little Arrow is here? They will find the girl with one moccasin, and then they will g0 back.” The white girl smiled, and saw triumph in her lover’s eyes. They seemed to have solved the mystery of the 5 dg td presence in the Adirondacks woods, But the period of congratulation was brief, indeed, for the sounds of footsteps and voices fell suddenly upon theirears. Red le turned to the woods and with flashing eyes listened for a moment, like a tiger brought to bay. ; Back to the island,” he whispered to his corapanion. “‘The panthers from the south are ~ the woods; they must not find the white bird ere. ‘ Little Arrow did not wait, butstepped into the canoe and pushed from the shore. The shadows of the island pines stretched their grotesque arms far into the lake, and once among them the boat came to a halt, and Little Arrow turned her face toward the shore. Red Eagle stood in the light until he saw the boat glide into the gloom, when he caught a stout pine bough and dextrously lifted his figure up into the dense foliage. The young red-skin had scarcely time to en- sconce himself in the tree when five persons reached the water's edge. He looked down through the pines and counted five men—three whites and two Indians. * Well, here we are, and nothing yet,” said one of the whites, in evident bad-humor. ‘ But there’s an island that doesn’t look big enough to hold a in Steep Is this the end of this lon trailing, 1 Loon? I have tr you an Nokomis. By the distant gods! if you trifle with me, you shall be paid, not in gold, but in the coin which trifling or treachery merits.” “Tell the white man that n is not fooling him,” said the chief, in the Mohican - tongue, to Nokomis, “Tell him that the lost e is very near—that the white girl will soon be his if he keeps his tongue still and don’t make Red Loon mad.” These words were intelligible to the occupant of the tree; they made him start. Nokomis turned te the white man. “None of your Indian lingo!” cried Cecil Crane, before the last Upas could deliver Red m’s message, ‘‘ Why can’t you two talk like, men people? What did Loon say, any- ow . “He said that he fools not the white man— that the girl is near.” “‘Then why doesn’t he lead us to the lodge?” was the retort, ‘‘Pm in the very heart of this devil-land. I’m getting tired of ieee so are my men.” He glanced as he uttered the last sentence at tl 9 two whites, who, standing side by side like stutues, had not spoken. ' “Tired, you say?” growled one of them, now. “Tt’s got to stop soon, Mr. Crane! We've fol- lered the Injuns about long enough, and we'll shift for ourselves pretty soon.” The Indians did not reply; they were bending toward the shore as if ex ing it. “See!” cried Red Loon, rising suddenly, and pointing with pede the ground, as he looked Sg Cecil “Whose feet makes the little tracks? Will the white man say now that ss Sim Sa nepece. tie Wine Ga. gist hiuaker Inspec’ © Sl 16 girl-hun stooped. His example wes followed fy the two white men, while Red Loon was aioe tae companion’s attention to the shadow of the island pines. ai Look, Nokomis! It is blacker than the shadows,” he was saying. ‘We are at the end of the trail; the hidden lodge is there!” The chief’s hand was outstretched, and the Upas, bending eagerly forward, with the flash of tiswaiph and greed in his little eyes, was trying to make out the dark object on the water. ‘Tt moves,” said Red n. ‘““ What moves, Injun?’ cried Tarsus Night- well, rising at the sound of the chiet’s voice. Red Loon did not reply, but relapsed into sul- lenness. ‘No foolin’, hyar!” was Nightwell’s threaten- ing retort to Loon’s changed mood. ‘‘ You saw somethin’, by Jehosaphat! You did, out thar on the water. Look, Simon! kin you see it? The Injuns are hatching up somethin’ of their own.” 5 At the giant’s words and threatening de- meanor, Red Loon stepped back and drew his tomahawk, “Oh, is that yer e?” cri_d Nightwell, springing forward. ‘‘Thar’s no Injun in these woods what kin browbeat me. ou two are infernal liars! You saw somethin’ out thar— somethin’ what you want to keep to yerselves!” The representative of the noble Mohican tribe did not shrink back: His eyes glared angrily at the giant, and a collision was inevitable. Cecil Crane saw the situation of affairs at a lance, and quick as thought he planted himself tween the contending races. - The next moment there was the sharp report of a rifle, and Red Loon staggered back and sunk upon his knees at the edge of the water! a orest rung with the echoes of that deadly ot: “Tt is the beginning of the end, and the end is not far away.” The voice started the occupants of the bank. The faces of Cecil Crane and the two giants: grew white, and Nokomis upward, oa if expecting his doom from the depths of the stars. But the voice startled another person. While the echoes still filled the forest, there came the horrified shriek of a human being from among the pine boughs, and a heavy bod descended and drop among the astonish group. With exclamations of terror the four started peek, while the wraith bounded up, and with a oF isap' ed in the forest. t was the Red Eagle' CHAPTER X. PELOSEE AGAIN. SIMULTANEOUSLY with the shot that dropped the crested Mohican at the edge of the lake, the boat in the pinery shadows shot suddenly toward the island. It darted through the waters like an arrow, and soon disappear Little Arrow’s face was a strange admixture of fear and anxiety. “‘ They do not want the girl with the one moc- casin,” she said, glancing at the beautiful shoe that lay at her feet. “ ey come for me; they want to take me from Patagan, and to tear Red Eagle away.” As the white girl spoke, there came the dip of oars from the left, and she beheld a canoe glid- ing silently aad swiftly throug) the moonlight toward her. ‘ Its approach had been noiseless and certain, and Little Arrow, when she saw it, uttered a ery of alarm, for it was quite near. he saw the single figure that bent to the pad- dies, saw that the person was one of her own ars and, instead of being reassured, took new alarm. {t was fh vain that the frightened girl threw all her strength into the task of rag sie the canoe; the new craft gained rapidly upon her, and at last she saw the futility of an attempt to escape. The purediing boat shot swiftly alongside, and its occupant leaned over and clutched Little Ar- row’s right arm! ‘* White gi! must stop!” cried the pursuer, sternly, as Little Arrow drop the paddles and looked into her face. ‘‘Pelosee is strong enough to hold her if she tries the paddles iy 1?? Little Arrow saw the flashing eyes that seemed to burn her face; she noticed the fantastic dress of her captor, and saw ata glance that Pelosee was a very giantess. : The white maiden submitted. For many moments the ogre’s child looked curiously into the face of her captive. It was white and very beautiful. It was the face of Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. y; i —_— a girl, and, in its girlish innocence, spiritually pure. Ws seemed the hawk looking at the dove in its ons. * ‘‘ Where is the lodge?” asked Pelosee, suddenly. Little Arrow sent a glance full of fear toward the island, which now lay between them and the scene of the love meeting. ‘“‘ Ts it there?” asked the island witch, noting the rapid glance. ‘‘ Pelosee knew it was near the big cave. Is it yonder, white girl?” Ff do you want to know?” said Little Ar- row. ‘Are you the owner of this?” She was holding the moccasin up to Pelosee. “Téis mine!” was the cry that greeted the shoe. ‘‘ Pelosee lost it with the mountain boy at the loud water.” ‘“‘The mountain boy?’ echoed the white cap- tive. “Red Eagle found it at the waterfall.” The moccasin was snatched from Little Ar- row’s hand and flung upon the bottom of Pelo- see’s canoe. I : “Come!” said the giantess. ‘“‘ White girl must go with Pelosee.” But the captive shrunk back shuddering. The Indian girl’s ipe tightened on her arm. ‘Must go!” Pelosee’s eyes flashed madly. ‘*The mountain boy has white girl.” Little Arrow could not resist; she was power- less in the hands of Ocotoc’s princess. Before she could remonstrate, she was lifted bodily from the boat and placed before the In- dian girl, whose terrible eyes almost made her cower at her feet. She believed that she had fallen into the clutches of a demoness!. Pelosee left the little boat where she had re- lieved it of its occupant, and seizing the paddles of her own, put about and started for the main- land, which was now cast in shadow by the de- scent of the moon. : Not a word fell from the lips of either girl as the boat glided swiftly through the water. Little w sat before her captor, oe from head to foot with an indefinable dr that sent a chill to her heart. The feeling was new toher. Up to that eventful night, her life had flowed uninterrupted in a gentle stream. She had known no foe; saw the exhibition of no passion save the gentlest one, and believed the world as good as her own sweet self. On the other hand, Pelosee was controlled different feelings. unted long for the Her eyes were full of tri- umph and revenge; her breast heaved with one of the storms of her wild life. The crouching girl at her feet seemed the victim of some sac- rifice which she, a proud, red priestess, was guiding to the altar of death. She feasted her flashing eyes upon the dove- like beauty of her Sap as the canoe swept toward the shore. Her arms rapidly lessened the distance, and when Little Arrow finally looked up she saw the trees, like gig@intic ghosts, — towering before her. * Pelosee ran the boat against the grassy bank, which yielded, and the craft remained firmly” wedged there—moored without the aid of a rope, Then the island witch rose and motioned her captive to follow her, which she did, and the two stepped upon the bank. Little Arrow cast an anxious glance toward the island, now hidden somewhere among the shadows that covered the lake, and felt Pelo- see’s hand on her arm again, ‘To the white hunter now!” said the Indian. “ But, eer! Does the white girl love the little mountain boy?” : The white maiden looked up strangely into Pelosee’s face. ‘What mountain boy?’ she said. ‘“‘ Little Arrow knows no young man but the Red Ea- le.” _“ Then she will not love the young cat of the pines?” ‘She loves Red Eagle.” | Pelosee uttered a cry of joy. at She lifted her captive from her ground, and held her out at arm’s length in an outburst of admiration, as the child holds her doll. “Pelosee and Little Arrow will be sisters!” she cried. - Ocotoc’s child.” . Little Arrow shuddered at the shining blade which flashed in her face. “Pelosee need not fear. Red Eagle is my warrior.” Was that a step that startled the two girls? They heard the sound like the snapping of a twig, and instinctively turned toward: it. The next instant, with a cry of joy, Little Arrow wrenched herself from Pelosee’s rasp. and sprung toward a crouching fi that hugged trunk of a pine several feetaway, ‘But if she smiles upon the Moun- — tain Cat, then to her heart reddens the knife of |
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— ——- tee As she left the witch’s side, the figure at the tree rose and caught her on an arm hastily flung out, and Pelosee found herself almost hurled to the pean. F ‘ ; itha cry of r the scarlet captor regained her feet, and Bomitied forward an: but tho apse who held Little Arrow so securely, pushed er back once more. 3 The giantess had found her match strength. ' Three times the maddened Indian threw her- ‘self upon her savage-like antagonist, for the pur- pose of toes nk gd captive; but by a dextrous movement on his part, her knife was knocked from her grasp and sent spinning into the depths of the lake. At last the unknown assumed the offensive, nud thrust Pelosee to the water’s edge. She saw him then, an athletic young Indian, and his eyes seemed to emit sparks of fire. _ Strength was his passion. He forced her feet into the water, and then flung her over the boat headlong into the lake! Having performed this feat, he turned to Lit- tle Arrow with a laugh of victory, and the two * darted into the forest, After a moment’s submersion Pelosee came to the surface and seized the canoe by the aidof which she speedily regained the shore. But her foe and the late captive were gone. The only thing that gree her was a knife that lay on the ground. She picked it up and springing to a tree buried it deep in the resinous wood. ‘* The white girl shall not be Pelosee’s sister,” she said, madly. ‘ The five hunters and the lit- tle Mountain Cat shall not find her. Pelosee will trail her and her red brave, and thus she will drive the knife to their hearts!” She tried to pull the blade from the tree, but the wood held it fast. Inher anger she snapped it and flung the han- dle into the water. “It is well!” she cried. ‘“‘ When the knife is in her heart Pelosee will break it!” That night, upon the shore of the mountain- locked lake, another obstacle—the revenge of a baffled woman—was flung upon the trail of Piney Paul, the young hermit, - CHAPTER XI. A FRIEND IN NEED, Tax shooting of the Red Loon, so unexpected and mysterious, threw consternation into the ranks of Cecil Crane’s party, as we have seen. The dropping of Red le from_ the pines and his rapid flight into the forest. still further startled gre aa they did not recover until the young Tn had disappeared. At the edge of the little lake, with his feath- ered sealp-lock touching the water, lay the prostrated red-man. The wild rolling of his eyes told his companions that life still remained, and now and then a convulsive movement bathed one red arm in the lake. “Whar did it come from?” cried Tarsus Night- well, the first to break the silence. ‘Thar was no flash that anybody saw, and the voice seemed to come down from the trees somewhar.” “The slayer has fled,” said Cecil Crane. “Did you not see him fly into the forest?” ‘‘ That war not the killer!” retorted the giant. ‘* Cecil Crane, the imp what fell from the pines and then darted inter the woods war an Injun. I see’d enough of him to know, an’ he never shot them words at you—never!” Crane gave the speaker a frightened “Tt war the same voice what struck you so forcibly on Deer Island!” continued Nightwell. “Was that an Injun? Go an’ look at Red Loon, .go an’ see if the old feller has anything to say. i Cran moved toward the stricken chief, who recognized him as he knelt at his side. “Does Red’ Loon know who shot him?” the white man asked, — The Indian ground his teeth. “ “It wasn’t Ocotoc!” he said, between his ‘Tt was the Mountain Cat who is on the w man’strail.” —_. : ethan didn't I tell you sof” sae hi he had ht Red m’s words. war an es fojuns call him the Mountain Cat, I ” ecil Crane looked up nonplused. ‘Mountain Cat, or not, l am not afraid of him,” he said. ae “You'd better be, ’m_ thinkin’,” was the re- mse. SP And why? Did I come to this accursed re- gion to be beaten back without the object of my gearcht No! Tarsus Nightwell, you do not and eae him helplessly back. know me. Where is the slayer? I wish he were here now.” The last sentence, spoken with the defiance of a desperate man, was echoing over the sleeping water, when several pine cones dropped at the fest of the speaker, and the next moment a figure with human outlines fell from the tree. **T am here, Cecil Crane!” cried the new- - ~ aa than wtants awe Nelramsia atewtasd fram Se peas. ay 4 ae a + _—- - the apparition, leaving their master to confront Unable to speak, Cecil Crane gazed at the boyish figure that stood before him with the moonlight full upon the piney plume and close- fitting fringed garb of buck-skin. an Iam here! What have you got t¢ say about 1 « Then the man found his tongue. “T want you to quit following me with your accursed threatenings!” he cried, his evil eyes flashing at the boy, who was none other than Piney Paul. ““Threatenings?” was the echo, and the boy’s glance went to the Mohican lying motionless and death-like now at the water. “Is that the result of threats?” he cried, t7‘umphantly. ‘* Does that dead red-skin say that 1 do not mean what [I have said? Didn’t you hear your doom on the island, Cecil Crane? Witches and snakes! You will soon be convinced that I do not lie.” The girl-hunter did not reply until his glance had sought his companions, whose figures were not to be seen, Was he alone with the trailer—the person who thirsted for his blood because he sought the hid- den lodge? “We are not alone,” said Piney Paul, inter- preting his rapid glance. ‘ Your followers are not far away. Say on, Cecil Crane. I am here to listen ph § to tell you something.” “I don’t know you,” the man said. ‘I have not much to say. I want no dealings with you. Keep away from me—that is all I ask.” ** All?” and the boy smiled. “Iam sure you are very liberal! Stars and garters! Iam much obliged to you. I will obey when I deem obedi- ence the te a thing to do. You don’t know me? Well, 1am not surprised that you have forgotten me, as we never met but once, and then the encounter was not a pleasant one for me. I know your mission to these solitudes as well as you know it yourself. You shall fail!” “Curse you!” cried Cecil Crane, striding for- ward; but arifle was suddenly lifted before him. “We'll end the matter here—yes, here! where your cowardly bullet killed my red friend.’ But the maddened man was siiddenly halted by the muzzle of the rifle which was tirust into his face. “Stand! or by the living stars I'll let the moonlight re ae you! No trifling here, I didn’t come for that.’ “Nor I; so we agree on that score. Who are you, anyhow?” “One who will not let you find the lost lodge,” was the reply. Cecil Crane drew back. There seemed pro hecy in the determined voice and visage before im Piney Paul stood before him with no thought of retreat, All at once there was a sound that startled the antagonists on the shore of the lake. It was the twang of a bow-string, and it came from the forest into which Cecil Crane’s companions had me yi it a loud. cry from Piney ast upon it came . Paul, and dropping the rifle he az red back with a barbed and feathered shaft sticking through his arm! — Cecil Crane sprung upon him with an excla- mation of tigerish rage and triumph, and before the boy could draw the knife hidden beneath his buck-skin jacket, he held him by the throat hen you follow me again it will not be in the flesh!” the man hissed. ‘I care not to know who you are now ; no one will seek to know when Iam through with you. Here ho is my good fellows; the arrow went clear through his arm. adele omis try to wing the eagle, or to kill His last words were spoken to the three fig- ures which had followed the shaft from the w " 3 ‘ Nokomis, the Upas, held a bow in his red hands, and his eyes rested upon Piney Paul with much malignance. : “No you don’t, Tarsus!” said Cecil Crane, pushing the giant’s hand from his arm. ‘ The captive is mine, and I’m going to put an end to his infernal trailing. The race» between us for the hidden lodge ends here, so far as he is con~ cerned! Tie him there, Simon. No! take the. rope away, a will attend to him without having him bound. When Cecil Crane released his grasp, the youth would have fallen exhausted to the ground; but the hand was transferred to his arm and he was firmly held. He suddenly jerked Piney Paul upright, and flung him against a pine, holding him the while. Then he caught the shaft, which had passed en- tirely through the arm, and gave it a hard wrench. But the arrow, ins of coming out,\ snapped with a click, and left the barb in the boy’s flesh! There was no cry of pain at this exhibition of brutality, Piney Paul’s eyes glared seam 5 at his tormentor; but his lips, white and clenched did not essay a word, . ; ‘Hid him a moment, Nokomis!” said the vil- lain, suddenly, as he turned upon the Indian, and thrust the boy toward him, The next moment Piney Paul was in the hands of his red betrayer. : “Now we'll finish the work!” said Cecil Crane as he picked up the boy’s rifle. ‘‘ We'll get rid of one imp who might do us an amount of injury. Hold him out, now, Nokomis. I won’t touch you. One blow will finish the wild-cat.” The spectators saw the rifle lifted above Cecil Crane’s head, as he stepped forward, his eyes glaring at the mountain bes. “What ar’ ye goin’ to do?” cried Simon Old- foot. ‘* Ye ar’n’t goin’ to hit ’im with the gun, ar’ ye?” * Just exactly what I’m gol to do!” was the back or there’ll be brains and. blood on your clothes!” reply. ‘ Stan The, giants looked at each other, and then lanced at the executioner. There was no mercy n his eyes. They shotmurder from their depths. Piney Paul looked at the uplifted rifle without amove. Then he glanced at Nokomis and saw a strange light flash in his eyes. ‘The wolves!” he said to the Upas. “ Has Nokomis forgotten?” . These words, though heard by Cecil Crane, were not understood. ' Nokomis, with the suddenness of thought, jerked the boy from beneath the uplifted weap- on, and thrust his own scarlet body beneath it. . The boy belongs to Nokomis! | His arrow is in his arm!” : sme Crane uttered an oath and dropped the rifle, “Yours by the law of the woods, I suppose; but will not Nokomis sell the boy?” Nokomis did not reply. “If he is yours, you will sell!” continued | Crane. ‘Come, we will play fair. Perhaps he is yours. It is your arrow in his arm; that we alladmit. He is against me; he is a snake in my path, but see! he would not spare Red Loon Nokomis's brother. Has the Indian no hate? Does he not avenge the blood of Red Loon?” ‘*‘No!” was the reply. ‘‘Red Loon was a Mohican, and his e fought the Upas till they all fell but Nokomis. Why should he strike the Mountain Cat for his shot? Some day Red Loon and Nokomis would have fought.” il Crane looked baffled. “You Indians are all alike, I guess,” he grat- ed. i» Vhat are you going to do with the little evil? The xeply did not come in words, Nokomis released Piney Paul, who stepped from his side. “Go!” was the whispered command from the Saas ‘Nokomis has not forgotten the wolves. The boy shot the Upas alook full of gratitude, and then glanced at the whites. ag “Do you set him free?’ roared Cecil Crane, “ Dog of an Indian! I will not submit. By the stars of heaven! I, at least, will assert my right to ee the person who seeks my life, Stand aside!” Piney Paul, anticipating this outburst of th, did not fly. He saw the Upas plant bimse aie firmly between him and Cecil Crane, and held his breath. The girl-hunter darted at him, but he was iiook eg by the red athlete and iifted bodily from the F igeg The next instant the white man was flung into the lake! Exclamations of rage broke from tne throats of the giants. ** That’s*too much!” cried Tarsus Nightwell. ‘Simon, the Injun’s too forward in the matter. Give him the upper hand, an’ away we go!” _ The speaker sprung forward; but Nokomis, stirring not, met him calmly, ‘Without Nokomis, the bic white men will never leave this country,” he said. “ Would
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‘10 they kill him, and become food for the vultures and the wolves?” The giant halted. oS “It’s no use, Simon,” he said; ‘“‘the Injun the truth.” But Simon Oldfoot did not answer; he was assisting Cecil Crane from the water, CHAPTER XII. . THE BLOOD ON THE KNIFE. __ Piney PAUL did not wait to note the result of the Indian’s quarrel with his employer, but | quitted the scene and bounded through the for- est, The events of the last hour had been so start- ling as to appear incredible. Concealed in the pine, he had witnessed the meeting of Red Hagle and the white girl of the island, and every word wf theirs had fallen upon his ears. - The sight of Little Arrow had opened a new revelation to him. The hidden lodge sought so long was not a myth; he felt that he had looked upon its occupant in the person of the fair white irl, whose boat had glided to the shadows that ang around the distant island. Pelosee had not guided him ie Her rtp of the lost wigwam had not deceived m, With sucn thoughts as these the Adirondack boy hurried through the woods with the stub- born shaft still in his flesh. He had no weapon gave tho knife concealed in his bosom; his rifle lay at the scene of the late rencontre. e it was who frightened the young Red Eagle from the pine, for he discharged his rifle over the chief’s shoulder, at Red Loon, and, un- tilthat moment unaware of his presence, the Mohican youth started only to from his perch to the ground. Piney Paul at last reached the spot where he had left Pelosee a few hours before. But he found it deserted, and nettled by the red girl’s absence, he drew some venison from the re- oe of a pine tree, and began to satisfy his unger. rs ‘‘Tt was a narrow shave,” he said. ‘‘That {ndian has pot a few sparks of gratitude in his heart, and I will try to remember it. The hid-. den lodge is not far away. I saw Cicely to- night. She is the hidden gut The Indian saw the boat on the lake when I shot him. Perha he would have told them. But he will not te now, Thunder and witches! didn’t that Indian boy drop when he saw me in the tree! I wish. ho hadn't dropped, for I wanted to make use of Beneath the boughs’of the pine the boy con- tinued to discuss the jerked venison as he com- muned with his thoughts. ; But all at once there came the whirring sound of a missile flying through the air, and a knife was buried in the tree against which he stood wing the venison. Starting forward with a glance at the weapon quivering there, Piney Paul stood face to face ec gore ts of the Indian girl dr en e In were drag- gled and soiled. The sleeve of her jacket was ripped from shoulder to elbow, and displayed the naked arm; and she was otherwise in a for- lorn condition, But her eyes flashed like the orbs of the tri- ‘‘ What has happened?” he cried, grasping her arm, ‘‘ You have grappled with some enemy! _ Tell me, Pelosee, all about it, and why you left } the — where you were to wait for me. T boat is gone! Did you take it?” There was no reply, but Pelosee sprung to the tree, and with a display of strength drew the deeply-buried knife from the wood. “then she seized our hero’s arm and drew him toa ae upon which the starlight uninterrupt- edly fell. - ee cf See!” she cried, fiendishly, thrusting the oi) blade before his face. *‘‘ It is red! red! Let ‘Ca Pelosee have the white boy’s hand. There! does ita he not feel the blood on the wood and the iron?” y A. shudder crept to Piney Paul’s heart. He | began to believe that the island witch was mad. But the blood—how came it here?’ he said, * Tell me! —— sleeve! but you must not touch her. son who harms her, though it be even you.” SRT ST Beadels’ Half-Dime Library. eee omy — ~ a te o with the both, for did not the wigwam girl er to the Indian when Pelosee was taking Mountain Cat?” ‘No! you did not come up with them and kill Cicely?” cried Piney Paul, jumping at the con- clusion of the 2 ’s narration. *¢ Does the white boy see the blood on Pelosee’s knife?” was the reply. ‘‘ Does he see the tear in her sleeve and the loss of her fringe? And see the moccasin which Pelosee lost by the water- fall. The hidden rose had it; but it is on Pelo- see’s foot again.” Se There was the triumph of a maddensui witch in the red girl’s look and tone. It made Piney Paul start back and gasp for breath like a suffo- cating man. He believed that he stood before the slayer of Cicely, the long-lost girl; he saw the victory of murder in Pelosee’s eyes. “Did you do it in your madness?” he cried, s ringing forward oa eg ‘Did you shed the blood of the lost girl? If you did, by the heavens, I have no right to spare you, though you saved my life!” The witch ct ya sr apcaar oy and with her right hand held him off at arm’s length. ‘It wasa mad fight!’ she cried. .“ Pelosee struck vgaaes dl times. But he ties in_ the forest and the wolves will come upon him before it is light. He stood between Ocotoc’s child and the flower of the lost lodge. See the tear in Pelosee’s He did that.” ‘But who did it?’ cried Piney Paul. ‘You have followed Cicely with death in your heart and there is blood on your knife. this, girl-witch! o more 0 ‘Gimminy crickets! I can’t stand this suspense. Don’t hold me so tight. cao an arrow in that arm. Who did you “The king of the forest! Pelosee was not afraid to meet him, The bear is dead on the white flower’s trail!” ‘‘A bear!” cried Piney Paul. ‘Thank God! it was not Cicely!” “A big bear!” was the reply, and the girl’s hg ed anew. ‘If he had not stopped ‘elosee, it would have been the rose.” Piney Paul drew a breath of relief; but his eyes flashed madly as he cried: ‘You have saved my life. I owe you much; I will kill the per- Pelosee’s reply was a scornful and derisive “ Try it on, laugh. ‘*T mean business!” said the boy. if you think I don’t ce ne CHAPTER XITI. THE RED WITCH’S DESERTION. ‘‘ ApwarRS would wear a different aspect if you hadn’t pushed my gun down when I had Cecil Crane covered on the log,” continued Piney Paul, sorely nettled by Pelosee’s laugh. But I guess I won’t make ss by quarrel- ing with you. I’m in poor plight to follow the trail now, and contend with the foes who will faceme. No gun—nothing but a knife! Where’s your rifle?’ “Broken where the bear lies dead!” was the i And where is the Mountain Cat’s gun?” F ere I met the five traitors and shot Red umphant mountain cat when after along fight it | Loon. They've got it now, and will try tomake stands over the body of its antagonist. Her | use of it, Have you ever beemin these parts visage startled the 7 and his word was | before?” an exclamation call forth by it. “Once, but it was long ago. Ocotoc and Pelosee came here where Patagan and the white rose lived on the island. She was a little girl hen just so high,” illustrating with her hand, “and she looked like a wild flower just bursting from its bud.” “ That was long ago, sure enough,” said Piney Paul. ‘‘ We don’t want anything to do with Patagan. If he finds that Cicely is missing— that she has run off with that hot-headed young Red Eagle—he will leave his island and we wi have a newenemy. The girl is somewhere in the woods. I know now that she still lives; my trail is drawing to an end.” “Yes,” the red witch said, pointing to the knife: “ butit is getting bloody.” “Only one life taken thus far,” was the re- Mnarothree Y” said Pelosee. - ee?” ‘‘The Red Loon, the bear, and the dog!” “T don’t count the animals,” Piney Paul said, with a smile, but when he recollected the cir- cumstances that surrounded Death’s taking off a shudder went to his heart. “Tt will. soon be light, and the trail of Red Eagle and the girl will be plain. Does the boy want to follow?’ - “Certainly I do! Witches and serpents! I : : want no grass to grow under my feet from this time to the end. Where can we strike the trail?’ ‘* Where the bear lies.” The twain, united again, left the t, and found the bear lying on the field of battle quite dead, The evidences of a protracted struggle between Pelosee and the brute were plentiful and terribly suggestive. The island witch had sought rather than avoided a combat with bru-: in. Proud of her strength she had called him a coward, and taunted him after the usual Indian manner. Hungry and ferocious, the king of the Adirondack woods did not flv, but advanc- ed boldly to meet his antagonist. In vain he tried to inclose Pelosse in the fatal embrace; but the knife came into play, and, after a hard struggle, bruin yielded, and Pelo- see staggered fainting from the fight. At the halt made at the carcass the girl de- scribed in graphic language the battle to Piney Paul, and picked up the discarded rifle with the remark that, after the blow that rendered it useless, she had cast it aside. The boy took the weapon and eyed it for a moment. The long barre} clung feebly to the stock, but he saw that it was not unfit for fu- ture service. Several good sirews could re- store the weapon, and render it useful on the new trail. “See!” he cried, as his face lit up with hope. “ A good sinew, girl, and your rifle may yet ring out upon the trail. There’s life in the gun yet, aeepesr ef this is luck!” Pelosee produced a strong cord made from twisted sinews, and, seating himself upon the carcass of the bear, Piney Paul mended the weapon. “There!” he said at last, holding the gun up to the girl. ‘Who shall carry it—you or I?” “The Mountain Cat mended it and he shall carry it,” was the reply. Leaving the huge animal on the field of his last: battle, Piney Paul resumed the trail with a light heart. It was quite plain to his practiced eye, and Pelosee followed it-with the flash of vengeance in her eyes. The day broke over the rim of the hidden horizon, and the long arrows of light penetrated the forest. They revealed the trailers and their surroundings; the rough ground over which the track of Red Eagle and his protegee led; the sky-seeking pines and the furzy undergrowth. lt was a prospect decidedly uninviting and gloomy. ; It soon became evident that the young Mo- hican was not going to return Little Arrow to the island. Piney Paul could tear her from Patagan with comparative ease; but as it was, loose in the forest and with a determination to keep the girl for himself, the arts of the Indian would be used for that purpose. - The long day—long in many respects to Piney Paul—drew to a close with the trail still before them, and stretching on into the seemingly in. terminable forest. Red Eagle seemed to be flying to some place beyond the Adirondacks. “Stop!” said Paul, pausing, and laying his hand on the arm of the eager Pelosee. ‘‘“We must stop till morning here. The shadows are long and the forest will be dark. Pelosee, Red Eagle is running as if all the imps on earth were reaching for his scalp-lock.” The girl turned upon Piney Paul a displeased countenance. : “ Pelosee will not rest her feet here!” she said, pointing toward the gloom that gathered ahead. “Why, it’s nonsense! I'll be hanged if it isn’t. You can’t see anything out there, 1f your eyes are extra good. They must rest sometimes; thev will not run always.” ‘““While we trail, they rest, and while we rest they fly.” ‘There’s something in that, I admit,” the boy said. ‘Do you hear the river?” Pelosee nodded. ‘(Tt is the crazy water,” she said. ‘‘ The Red Eagle and his girl cannot cross.” ‘But they can follow the stream. We stop here.” * : Piney Paul saw the futility of attempting to trail in the dark forests of the Adirondacks. He determined +o wait till day, Rest was needed by nature; it would refresh him. But Pelosee would not listen. She turned a deaf ear to the boy’s judgment, and started stub- bornly forward. “You will leave me?” he said. ““Pelosee’s eyes are like the owl’s. trails are hers.” “Tt’s no use to reason with you, I guess,” Piney Paul answered. The forest “You can go! But, stay onemoment, What if you find his ( iene tae a Siar See
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| ; ss Pelosee will tell the Mountain Cat; but not sow. “You mean mischief.“ The very old Harry has got into you. Youare mad at Cicely, What will you do? Tell me.” He laid his hand menacingly on the rifle, which stood against a tree. There was no reply, for Pelosee sprung away, and fled like a startled fawn through the forest. Her figure disappeared in the twinkling of an eye, and the boy found himself alone in a por- tion of the Adirondack region which he had never before visited. His search for Cicely had never extended so far to the north. The ground about him was truly a terra incognita, and it might prove a land of death. He knew of but one man familiar with the trails of the northern mountains, and that man was Nokomis. ‘To thelast Upas the fastnesses of the Adirondacks were what a well studied map is to the school- boy. tiated everywhere by the ancient enemies of his race, Nokomis had familiarized himself with the forest trails. He knew the various caves; the hiding-places that offered themselves under the cataracts, the dens of the wolves, and the jairs of the panthers. But he had allied himself to Cecil Crane’s party, though, as we have seen, he saved the eave-boy from that villain’s uplifted rifle. He undoubtedly acted as their guide, and Piney Paul must expect no assistance from that quarter. The mountain boy did not despair when he found himself deserted by that strange admix- ture of love, jealousy, and revenge, Pelosse! **T’m alone now, and in a strange land; but | there’s no turning back!” he cried. ‘Cicely is somewhere ahead, and everybody in these woods lifts hands against me. Stars and pan- thers! it’s a bad condition of affairs; but Pll make it look better. I will, sure as shooting!” He did not follow the deserting witch. The shadows had already hidden her form; he ceased to hear her feet crushing the pine cones. “To the river, better perhaps,” he said. “ T’ll o on to the stream, It isn’t far away, and I'll ie that far advanced when daylight comes.” He thus abandoned his intention of halting at the chosen spot, but started forward again, and soon stood upon the bank of a river whose wa- ters, unseen in the night, filled his ears with the sound of their dashing. : “Til take the old bed to-night,” he said, with a smile, as he drew himself up into the re- cesses of a pine. ‘ By and by, I'll get out o’ this country—that is if I get Cicely—and quit sleeping in the trees.” : A moment served to ensconce the youth in the friendly pine, and he was adjusting his head to the uncomfortable fork that offered its ser- vices as a pillow, when a voice came up from low. ; **What’s that?” ejaculated Piney Paul, leav- ing his perch and dropping to the ground. a Rcawundy is ahead of me. It wasn’t Pelo- see’s voice. Was it Red Eagle's?” Far below him the river flowed through the bottom of a gorge, at the top of which he knelt, listening for a repetition of the sound. Below, the blackness of starry night hid ev- erything from his sight. He could not see the _ rocks upon which he knelt. Rifle in hand, he listened until the ad voice came up through the mist and the gloom. ‘Tm hanging to the rocks! For! the love of God, T. imon—save me! You will not let me die here. Where is Nokomis? Help! villains! friends! Where, in the name of Tar- are you?” “Thunder and guns! it is Cecil Crane!” cried Piney Paul. “ they answer him?” But no reply came to the appeal of the un- seen man. , ‘‘Tarsus, have you left me?” came the agon- izing voice again. “I can’t hold out much longer. My hands are slipping éven now. my gold for life and al God curse the ~ fiends—the traitors—who will leave me to perish here!” Pine? ned over the precipice. ** Ho. Pak eateipet™ he ced to the unseen man—his inveterateenemy. “T can, perhaps,” was the mse. “ But you must not save me, You are Piney Paul.” “That’s so, Cecil Crane; but I never went back on any man when I found him crying for life. Hold to the rocks. I’m coming down!” With the es wong ¢ that seemed foolhardiness, Piney Paul swung himself over the edge of the ru precipice and begsn to let himself down to the man who had pleaaed so earnestly for life 2 ‘s and safety. He was upon unknown ground. The earth, ——$— 1 “s en i oi | . loosened by his adventuresome feet, went rat- tling down into the abyss, and lost itself in the rushing river, “You're coming, sure enough,” gasped the im- | periled man. ‘ But, oh, God, 2 eg speed doesn’t match the snail’s. Do you think I can hold here, with the water trying to pull me away, till morning?” “ And do you think I’m going to let all hold go and come down to you like a cannon ball?’ was the tart response. ‘ You wouldn’t find me so accommodating if I caught you up in a pine, Cecil Crane.” The descent continued, and the boy found him- self at the foot of the cliff, and not-far from the spot from whence the voice had proceeded, But he did not call to Cecil Crane for his exact position. : He heard another voice. ** Ye’ll rouse the very wildcats by yer holler- in’,” said the rough and unseen spéaker, ‘ ’m comin’ as fast as I kin. One shin is knocked forty ways for Sunday, now. Whar are yer, Crane? an’ warn’t ye speakin’ to somebody awhile back?’ “Right here Iam!” came the response, ‘Take my arm and pull me out. There! God! another minute and [ would have been gone. Speakin to somebody, Tarsus? Yes! Call Nokomis an Simon down here. That infernal boy is here- abouts. He was coming down to finish me. No! don’t call Nokomis; but find the little devil yourself, Tarsus, and we’ll finish him. He’s very close!” > ‘* But it is dark and dangerous!” was the re- sponse. ‘He couldn’t have been ten feet away when you came. Look! what is that against that rock?” Cecil Crane pointed toward the only rock visible by its white surface in the gorge. Tarsus Nightwell, with a cry of ‘the brat, by hokey!” started forward. But a wildshout share «Nae his ears, and the dark figure naeine the rock sprung past him and pushed Cecil Crane over the slippery stones. With a loud cry the ungrateful wretch dis- appeared ‘beneath the dashing waters! ‘That’s what a fellow gets for repudiating a ey turn?” cried Piney Paul’s voice. ‘ Fish out, Tarsus Nightwell, for his time hasn’t come yet!” CHAPTER XIV. THE HUNTERS OF NOKOMIS. Wirn a hurried glance at the form struggling in the whitened water, that dashed over the rocks, Tarsus Nightwel) sprung forward and flung himself apn Piney Paul. The boy, unable to fly, for the shore behind him seemed literally cut off. by the waves, met the giant with great bravery. The rifle, which had in many places assisted him in his descent, was quickly uplifted, and with all his might he struck at his antagonist. But the giant’s arm warded off the stroke, and the next moment the enemies had clenched. Physically, Tarsus Nightwell was the master, but his size made his movements slow and un- wieldy, while the boy, used to mountain life, had acquired the agility of the cougar. e wrestled with the giant over the alitpery. rocks; now, by his tactics, forcing him k, and irritating him tono little degree, It was in vain that Nightwell tried to use his knife, with which he would have speedily ended the strug- gle; but he was kept busy attending to the han that tugged at his throat. : : The lion had found no mean foe in the wily panther, and at last he slipped and fell back- ward upon the rocks, Stunned by the fall, Nightwell’s gripe loosened and Piney Paul slid away, not a little bruised by the great hands of the man who lay so still at the edge of the leaping water. “‘Creeks and crashes! I believe he’s dead!” the boy exclaimed, looking at the giant. ‘‘ Well, the world is better off, perhaps, and I have one enemy less. Now, out o’ this, Piney Paul, or there'll be two more to grapple with.’ The last words had scarcely fallen from the youth’s lips, when a plash in the water that shut off the shore along the cliff, made him turn quickly, and he saw half a dozen dark figures at side. “Tndians, by crickets!” he cried, starting from = new foe and lifting his.rifle. ‘‘ Out of the ryin gpan into the fire!” ‘Stay!” cried a stern, strong voice, and the bow-string sent an arrow past his head, to be broken against the wall of rock, “ The trail of Nokomis is here. The pale-faces are with him, Piney Paul’s reply was freighted with death, The Hidden Lodge. _ 11 for the flash of his rifle lit up the gorge fora moment, and a loud announced that the ball had performed its fatal mission, Then the spot resounded with loud cries, and a shower of arrows fell around the flying boy. He hastened down the stream as fast as the r permitted. The hunters of Nokomis were close upon him, now and then sending a shaft forward with the hope of arresting the flight of the foe. . ‘Where's the place that brought me down?” muttered Piney Paul. ‘If I could find that, there’d be a chance to get above these red-skins, Ha! here it is, by my life!” He stopped, and throwing the gun upon his back, like an Alpine hunter, drew himself above the rocks by means of heavy vines, ea es which a short time before he had toilsomely de- scended to rescue his enemy, Cecil Crane, The ascent was extrahazardous, for the vines, loosened in their rocky soil by his descent, might refuse to carry him upward to the woods above. But better the hazard than to fall into the hands of the savages. The pursuing Indians passed under him, and soon returned bootless to their brethren. He heard their cries of anger over the victim of his rifle; but no sounds announced the discovery ef either Nightwell or Cecil Crane. Piney Paul toiled upward through the vines, which, growing in profusion there, afforded him a hiding place as well as the means of escape. Up he slowly worked his way, the water sounding in his ears. The presence of the In- dians in the gorge was manifest by certain sounds that could not mislead the fugitive. ‘They're going to stay till it is light,” he. said; ‘‘ and it will be light all along these rocks before I can get to the top. These old vines will have to hide me.” He stopped and looked up at the tall pines that crowned the edge of the gorge and seemed to lose themselves among the depths of the stars; then down to the waters, becoming visible in the increasing light. Like a globe of fire the great round moon crept out of the cataracts, as it were, and sent its beams into the ravine, re- vealing rocks, vines and all, i Piney Paul parted the vines and thrust his body into their density. The hunters were al- most directly below him; they were coming down the gorge, evidently seeking him in the new light. $f vp to the woods,” said an Indian, as the band halted at the foot of the vines. ‘* Nokomis, the last Upas dog, is up among the trees; the pale- face fled no further down, for see, the water would be about him. There is no trail. Ho has crept up the vines.” The Indian’s words thrust the perils of a new danger upon Piney Paul. The band were going to ascend to the forest above them by the vines _ in which he had taken refuge. They evidently were foes of the Upas chief, out on his trail. — Never did oe hide closer or squeeze his body into smaller space than Piney Paul at that moment of terror. He felt the vines shake with the weight of the first red-skin. _ Skillfully the red-skin made his way upward over the vines and nearer and nearer tothe boy. Piney Paul noted his progress by the shakin and swaying of the vine; but the Indian ( the young red-slayer to the right, though so na that he could have been struck with a ife, ‘ Once upon the cliff, the Indian told his com- panions that the vines were safe for scaling purposes, and the ascent of the others began. © moon came up and saw the dark, cat-like figures crawling up the sides of the orge. by one they passed by Piney Paul’s place of concealment, until the last, one—the eighteenth —had left him undisturbed, ‘*Highteen,” he murmured, with a smile. ‘“‘ Nokomis must fight shy of them if he wants to keep his long hair out o’ their belts, They'll look ace me in the woods above, and they'll find me, too, I reckon.” : ; His last sentence was almost cut short by sounds that thrilled him to the marrow, and caused a hue of deathly pallor to come to his face. These sounds were the blows of a toma- hawk, oe and effective, that sent a quiver | through the network of vines. ‘‘ Witches and snakes! here’s a new go,” ejac- ulated = boy. Pace saengpen get ye nee is i e nt vine away, an it have to Se ote with ih when it falls | He did not look up to see the half-naked figure which leant over the cliff, and, hatchet in hand, er was cutting the vine in twain. Such curi would have e : the hands of his foes. As Cortez burned his ships to prevent retreat, xposed his body and placed him in
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Ra ee ee ls Se ee - Se Fes), ” pew Bin owe AALS Ae OO aig . ; ae . TTY. = Cae Bt ee a ee - i a se the hunters of Nokomis were cutting the vines away. The Indian labored manfully at his task, and the main stem was cutaway. Paul grasped the strong tendrils in his embrace, and awaited the descent, He knew that his own: weight was enough to force the living net downward. . Not long, and the mass shivered and loosened itself from the rocks; then pre wa) with a tearing noise, and pinged earrying Piney Paul with it. CHAPTER XV. THE WITCH’S KNIFE. Nor far from the scene of the thrilling inci- dents just narrated, and listening to the blows of the hatchet, stood two persons, Hand in hand they stood in the shadows of the cliffs and the trees, and the light of the rising moon fell at their feet, but did not expose their es, One of the listeners was an Indian athlete, youthful, and naked to the waist, for the frag- ments of a hunting-frock, that clung to his broad shoulders, could not be called clothing. His companion was a young white girl, beautiful but pale, and she listened, with clenched lips, to the ringing blows. Red Eagle and Little Arrow! The latter looked fatigued; the forced flight froma the little lake had told heavily upon her, but the endurance of the Indian did not seem im- paces in the least. Despite the journey, he ooked fresh and eager. F They heard the crashing of the mass of vines, as it fell down the cliff, sae S| Piney Paul in its embrace, and the sound, loud and startling, made them exchange looks of wonder. ‘The red-men cut the heavy vines away!” the Boe. savage said. ‘‘They are the hunters of Nokomis; they do not mean to go kack.” ‘* We must not meet them!” said Little Arrow. “No!” was the response. ‘Red Eagle has no friends in that tribe, though he is one of its braves. They do not trail him; but they would not turn away to save his scalp.” The white girl did not reply, and for some moments the red brave kept his lips sealed. ‘‘ Red Eagle knows not where to go,” he said, in a puzzled manner, ‘‘To the south liés the — city of the Yengees, to the north the omes of the Je, gegen In either place the whites would fall in love with Little Arrow, ~~ take her from the chief. Better back to an. entirely, ownward, The girl gave him an anxious look, : “‘ But the hunters are between us!” she said, Red Eagle drew his tomahawk. “T am not a coward!” he cried. ‘The for- est is as my lodge—I know every of it. Back to the island! if the trail swarms with hunters! Red Eagle will face the old man and tell him that he loves Little Arrow—that he fled with her, but to save her!” ; Little™Arrow, or Cicely, the lost girl, crept trustingly to the young red-skin’s side. “IT will follow!” she said, -coura y. ‘* Not to the Americans, nor to the English; but back to the island lodge!” 2 Q “To Patagan!” said Red Eagle, closing his lips firmly upon the last word. The flight of the twain from Pelosee had end- ed; they resolved to return to the island and there—where they believed they would be safe —live out the love of their lives. But there were fogs between them and the hid- den lodge; there were to be bloody leaves before Cicely’s feet could press the island soil again. Tramp! tramp! pete the forest came the sounds of feet, that startled the lovers, and Red ee drew the girl further back into the sha- ows, “The hunters of Nokomis!” he whispered. “The Brown Ptarmigan leads them; he limps.” Like specters the eighteen hunters moved through the wide belt of moonlight, watched in silence by the twain. Gradually they ps from sight, and the sound of eo feat died away. é Cicely looked up to her red lover with beam- ing thankfulness in her eyes. ¢ the danger had not passed. There suddenly a in the wake of the hunters a figure which at first resembled the ther’s, though it was larger than that beast’s. Te stooped over the fresh trail ve unter; but rose erect a few feet from the ves. They go down the river!” said the voice of the tender: “Do they follow the white girl and her red lover, or are they the Indians the Upas? Cicely. heard the voice and started from its Wand. At the same time she recognized the ‘brave and chivalrous white hunter now, il like the experi-. who hunt: Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. speaker, and a glance at Red Eagle told her that he, too, had made the same discovery. Standing in the edge of the moonlight, erect and statue-like, appeared the person whose dark eyes the girl dreaded to encounter—Pelosee! The red witch was still on her trail, and the countenance revealed by the moon, together with the long blade that glistened in her hand, caused the white irl to hone fervently that thev might never meet again. oiselessly the young Red Eaglo dropped his companion’s arm She looked up surprised at the action and saw the Indian ready to throw himself upon the huntress. He held a knife in his hand and his eyes flashed the mad passions of his heart upon the witch. Cicely did not restrain him. He darted for- ward with a cougar-like spring before she could have lifted a hand for that purpose. ‘ The distance had not been miscalculated, for, with a startling cry, Pelosee fell back beneath the force of the plunge. She staggered toward the water shimmering in the weird moonlight, with the hand of the young Red Eagle at her throat, But she strug- poe while being forced back, and at last brought er prodigious strength into full play. But the Mohican was no mean antagonist. A belief that Pelosee sought the life of Cicely nerved him to d ration, and he resolved that her trail should end on the banks of the Crazy river. An anxious spectator of the combat, the white girl stood in the shadows with her eyes fastened oe the figures that struggled in the moon- shine, She started forward when Pelosee forced Red Eagle back by a& momentary advantage; but when the youth dextrously turned the tables, she would stop and pray for his final success. Tn one of her spells of eagerness she exposed her person to the quick eyes of Pelosee, and a wild cry fell from the witch’s lips. The sight of her victim seemed to lend her ad- ditional strength, and she turned to Red Eagle, iting for breath, with the fury of the tigress. stout as the young brave was, he could not re- sist the new simoom’ of successfully. He wrenched himself from Pelosee and flung his body between her rage and Cicely. He planted himself firmly there with drawn ife and waited the attack, Tt was not delayed. With an exclamation of rage the savage prin- cess sprung forward; but the Mohican met the shock with the old bravery of his famous tribe. He struck for the heart that beat beneath Pe- losee’s vest, and blood stained his blade, but it was the blood of her right arm. The next instant he was flung aside, and the Island Witch cleared the distance between him and Cicely with a single bound. Cicely starting back with a shrick of terror essayed to fly, for she saw that Red Eagle did not ee from the ground, but the huntress was upon her, “The white girl fled from Pelosee, but she could not escape!” was the exulting cry. . “‘ She shall go now to the Mountain Cat, and before his eyes Pelosee will take her life.” Cicely heard all with a white face, and her glance wandered to the young Mohican. “The knife was in Pelosee’s hand when she struck!” the witch said, noticing the inquiring glance. ‘‘ The white girl shall see him.” She carried rather than led Cicely to the spot where in .the ores lay the Mohican—the ted Eagle—with his scalp- lock on the ground, and his face paler than the natural hue. “He has gone to Watchemenetoc!” said Pe- losee, savagely. ‘No! no!” cried the girl in anguish, as -she was permitted to kneel over the Indian, whose da rolling wildly, became fixed, and regard- her with a soft expression. “ is not dead! He not die because Pelosee struck him!” “The young Red Eagle will soon be on the never-ending trail,” came the reply from the rostrate Indian, in tones that startled the lis- mers. ‘‘The knife of the witch found his life lodge. Little Arrow will live for the young _He hunts her to take her to the home from whith Patagan stole her long ago. Cicely started. mi have always been Patagan’s child!” she cried. - The dying Indian slowly shook his head. “No! The lost lodge is to the south. The Red os have kept Little Arrow here 2 love him. But bis tongue is not forked now. e knows why the white men are in the forest. See wet ye “against the foot o e Red Eagle’ The boy would take her back to the lodge; the man would drive the knife to her heart!’ The death rattle followed hard and ominously upon the last words, and astream of blood gush- ed from the wound in the side. There was amoment of silence, which Pelosee in her madness did not attempt to break. All at once Red Eagle tried to rise, but his ex- hansted strength prevented, and he fell back a pine, and died there with his eyes fixed on Cicely! 3, The long trail!” said Pelosee, glancing signi- ficantly at the young chief. ‘‘Come, we must 0.” “Go? Whither?’ Cicely rose and faced the scarlet witch. “ Whither are we going?” she demanded. ‘*To the mountain boy!” was the reply. “T am ready now. He wants to take me back to the long-lost home. Red Eagle said so before he died.’ For a moment Pelosee did not reply. She held Cicely at arm’s length, and gazed strangely into her white face, ‘S Yes! yes!” she said, fiendishly. ‘ The little Mountain Cat would take the white girl to the lost wigwam, and would make Jove to her there. But the knife shines bet+veen her and that wig- wam. It is Pelosee who talks thus to the pe flower !” Cicely could not misinterpret the light that gleamed in the red girl]’s eyes. It was jealousy tinctured with its almost in- separable companion—revenge. **’You would not kill me, Pelosee?”’ she said, es. her hand on the jealous one’s arm, ‘‘We should be sisters--not enemies!” The ay 2 care Serie and full of bitterness. ‘The Mountain Cat belongs te Pelosee! She saved him from the wolves.” Cicely did. not reply; but wished herself far from the presence of the forest vixen. ““Pelosee knows where the boy is!” the red girl said. suddenly. ‘‘The vines went down with him when the Brown Ptarmigan cut them away. The captive looked up into the speaker's face, at a loss to understand her. A moment later the twain were hastening from the spot. CHAPTER XVI. OUT FROM THE VINES. THE loosened vines, gathering into a mass al- most spherical in form, dashed down the pre- cipice and struck the rocks far below. ere it lay like a great ball partly unraveled and out of shape, washed by the water as it poured over the rocky bed of the gorge. For several minutes there were no signs of life about the mass, but at last a singular figure emerged therefrom, and looked up. “There was too much stuff around me!” said Piney Paul, smiling at his ludicrous situation. “Big fishes! I thought I would never stop. Over and over it went, until plump! splash! right into the water. Now I’m for getting out o’ this. Nobody about, I guess.” ‘ With no little difficulty the Adirondack boy left the mass and found himself on shore. Above him towered the cliff down whose sheer sides he had descended with the speed of a falling bomb. The top was deserted save by the stately pines whose overhanging branches he could see. He did not desert the a directly, but exam- ined his surroundings with much care. Thanks to the profusion of vines he had es- caped without bodily injury, and, with rifleand knife, he felt tolerably safe, _ ‘‘ There’s no use in stopping here when I’ve no business in the place. No more vines hereabouts to takeme up to the trees, and there isn’t a man in these parts who can scale the rocks, T wonder if this gorge doesn’t end somewheret Tl try it at any rate.” He started down the ravine for the purpose of finding a Stairway to the pines overhead. The place where he had encountered Cecil Crane and Nightwell was left behind, and, like a specter, he hurried on, hugging the cliffs and avoiding the water as much as possible, At no place pate age river might have been called a pretentious stream. Its bound- | aries were confined by the walls of the chasm, and above in numerous places trees bridged the opening. ; Piney Paul at last discovered that the stream grew wider as he advanced, and he emerged un- expectedly from the gorge upon a comparative- ly level shore. _ : “Nature got tired of making rocks and here,” he said, concerning the change, ‘“ Now
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but ‘he won’t miss. Good-by your last vine off, 1 rec m ——-—-~- a if I knew what become of Cecil Crane and Cice- ly, why Td feel better. But the scamp is clean gone this time, I guess, for I pushed him into the river, and he was weak as acat before. It was a mean trick. I was trying to save him when he told that giant to seize me and hold me stiii till he could cut my throat. If he didn’t say for that, he meant it anyhow.” ‘** Let me see,” continued the boy, after a mo- ment’s pause. ‘Nokomis is hunted; tho In- dians want him. I am hunted; so are Cicely and the young red-skin, Pelosee is a hunter, ‘oo—bless me! if we all ar’n’t hunting one an- other. Things are getting so mixed up that I can’t tell t’other from which.” He would have started forward if a dark ob- ject lying in the moonshine to his left had not attracted his attention. A quick step, accompanied by the precau- tionary click of the rifle-lock, brought him to the corpse of the Red Eagle. ‘*Here’s a gol” Piney Pau said. end here, I see, boy. ks and crashes! Id like to know who did this! If the girl was here, the person who fixed the Indian took her off. That looks plain as sunshize to a fellow. They had a tussle of -it, I see;” he was stooping over the ground where Pelosee and the brave had fought. ‘‘There’s the print of a foot bigger than Red Eagle’s, but his has tramped it. i could find that mark, alone—if—here it is!” He looked at tbhe footprint in the yielding earth for a moment, and then started up. “The witch was here!” he cried, ‘ Sho killed the boy Indian, and, what is worst of all, she’s carried Cicely away. Now the fear—the trou- ble—begins) Why did she leave me in the for- est? Her eyes looked like coals, and she means’ to kill Cicely Draeme.” Piney Paul shuddered to think of the lost girl in the clutches of the jealous Pelosee. He knew not how long the twain had been **Got your er. d Eagle was cold, and the rigidness of death was in his limbs. : “Back it is!” the boy said, discovering the trail of the witch and her captive. ‘ They’ve me back toward the gorge, t them keep in fhe moonlight, and I can track them.” But the orb of night soon set and left the forest in the shade. The night was drawing to a close and the darkness that precedes the long gray streaks of dawn lay about the ceaseless hunter. He stopped, resolved to await the child of the morning. The only sounds that oppressed his ear were the long cry of the mountain wolf, and the rush of the waters through the gorge. / Giving himself over to reflection, Piney Paul sunk at the foot of a pine, wearied but not dis- heartened. The night crept from before the advancing doy ope with the first arrows of light, the moun- boy cast his eyes across the stream. Voices had already prepared him for the sight that met his gaze; but it drove him quick- ly behind the tree against which he had rested his limbs Upon the opposite bank not a hundred feet away stood the hunters of Nokomis, the stealthy eighteen. They formed a circle about a scarlet , which, standing erect and in a defiant at- titude, was easily recognizable as Nokomis, the last of his race! The victim had been caged; the tiger was in. the power of the hunters, and they would not “ . a Caught at last!” ejaculated Piney Paul. “I know a left me Re sold yourself to Cecil Crane for his gold; but yqu did me a turn the other day, and I’m going to pay y. u back.” But the Upas was not alone amid the hunters. Near him, but not in the center of the ring, "stood Simon Sor Sa a captive also. . ‘¢T don’t care that for you!” the boy continued, snapping his fingers as he looked at the white snapping bis Sage You ain’t any better than the mah who hired you to come here, But I will get Noko- mis out o’ his fix.” | _ The Indians seemed on the point of sacrificing the man who had eluded the vengeance of their tribe so long. There was no escape while every eye was f upon him. Piney Paul rai his rifle and looked along the barrel, ) “The fellow who cut the vines down is there!” he murmured. wide ne stand on one foot; any feet if the rifle doesn’t Mr. © You’ve cut ' _ The Hidden Lodge. 13° LATS TAL A ANTS ST TAT SY TC TI 5 red went backward “with a loud cry, and fell at the feet of the hunted Upas. “Run, Nokomis! run!” shouted Piney Paul, showing himself. ‘‘Get up and dust, now or never!” Nokomis did not hear the last words of advice, but, like a startled deer, he dashed through the ranks of his hunters, and fled like an arrow. Simon Oldfoot followed the exile’s example; but with poor success. Heran with sorry judg- ment, and suddenly found himself at the edge of the cliff! “ There he stopped, and shrunk from the chasm, ‘**'You ran the wrong way, Simon!” cried Piney Paul. ‘Go back and die like a man!” Acry of rage burst from the giant’s throat, He turned and found the Mohicans upon him. With uplifted hatchets they closed about him, and then and there the career of a hireling was brought to a close. | Meanwhile Nokomis had disappeared, with six pursuers at his heels, “They might as well try to catch a streak o’ daylight!” said Piney Paul. ‘‘One good turn deserves another always, We're square now, Nokomis!” The name of the flying chief was still quiver- ing the speaker’s lips, when a shower of arrows fell around him. “Too far for good work!” he cried, smiling at the barbed shafts. ‘‘ Now it’s my turn.” a stepped boldly inte view with reloaded rifle, The Indians divined his intention, and started back; but one of their number stopped, and dropped dead across the tomahawked corpse of Simon Oldfoot! CHAPTER XVII. A SHORT-LIVED TRIUMPH. THROUGH a forest that stretched far and dark from the base of a mountain, crept, rather than walked, a white man, whose face was haggard, but cruelin its expression. His soiled garments ‘had been torn by rocks and briers, and he seem- eda fugitive flying from a posse of inveterate hunters, é That necessary weapon, the rifle, he did not possess; but in his hand he carried a long cudgel, which he trailed at his side, He was no eee rienced trailer, for every now and then the pine cones were crushed by his feet, and he started at the strange sounds thus made. It was Cecil Crane, the hunter from the great city between the two rivers. He was alone, traversing the Adirondack woods, not flying from the hunters, but himself a determine hunter still, and at that moment on the trail. Several weeks of misfortunes and thrillin vicissitudes had since he entered the wil mountainous region to ascertain how his hire- lings, the two giants, had progressed in their search for long-lost Cicely Draeme. He had found them full of fears engendered by the wildness of the country, and the adventure de- scribed in our initial chapter. He discovered fought him on the banks of the Cra and, at the same time, Nokomis and Simon Old- ared. As for himself, th him at ter- ® search for Cicely. What motive controlled Cecil Crane’s evil Cad Why did he leave a luxurious home in ew York city to lose himself to civilization among the wild grandeur of the Adirondacks, that he might unearth the hidden abode of the young, Red Eagle’s white love? _From his lips shall presently fall the story of preg thee or barataaa an en fair oe whom he unted so long and reven; ‘shall it for the first time. , nfs = The shadows lengthened about Cecil Crane as | he slowly pursued his way. They at last be- came as one great pall orongereeaing_s sur- moun- roundings, and creeping darkly up t tains. “Yonder at last!’ he said, halting suddenly. as the glimmer of a fire greeted his vision, ai thought I must be near the it w the Indian girl yesterday. If how luc i di to ha epee ve The light increased in size and intensity as the man advanced, and at last a long craw] through the dense woods brought him to a spot from whence the occupants of the littie camp were visible. Cecil Crane could scarcely believe the evi- dence of sight, Seated on a log, and in the light of the fire, was a fair young white girl, whose garments re- vealed a story of forest life, and of long absence from the homes of her race, She was very beautiful to the solitary watcher; her golden hair fell to her shoulders in long Rea Pee and she was running her white fingers through it ina manner which proclaimed her thoughts to be far away. The eyes of the man flashed madly like those of the tiger, as well they might, for the end of the long trail seeined reached at last. Cicely Draeme sat before him! He knew it was she, though sixteen years had passed since he had last gazed upon her face, The stories brought mysteriously from the heart of the Adirondacks were not the idle inventions of the myth-loving Indians. The golden-haired fairy of the moun- tains was a reality. She was even now before pep ot far away, preparing a mountain grouse for the palate, sat the other tenant of the camp —a large Indian girl, whose heart was in the task to which she had assigned herself, The sole weapon visible to Cecil Crane was the rifle that lay on the ground at her side. The wood- land ‘‘ spit” also lay near by, and the tempting grouse was almost ready to satisfy the appe- tites of the twain., For several minutes the white hunter fastened his eyes on the girl who occupied the log, almost completely ignoring the presence of her red com- panion. He hunted Cicely, not Pelosee; he wanted the white girl, but if the red one inter- fered, why, he would not hesitate to drive a knife to her heart. When he left the tree behind which he had secreted himself to view the camp, it was to in- augurate a crawl which would have been credit able toa Mohican brave. His movements de- scribed a half-circle with an objective point, which was the white girl. Like the nye ie approaching the feeding bird, Cecil Crane, bringing the caution of reven, and his forest cunning into play, neared the o ject of his long hunt. Cicely was watching Pelosee roasting the use, and did not catch a sound that betrayed © spoiler’s approach, At last Cecil Crane crouched and hu the oN. He was in the girl’s shadow, thrown y the fire. She was a dark silhouette in the ruddy light, ; The slender fingers still toyed with the luxu- riant a a ag hommes ow with a my pe cry which he could not suppress, the eager crawler a forward and seized his Pea Lifted from the log by Cecil Crane, the white girl uttered a shriek, which caused Pelosee to turn from ber culinary operation and spring rect. . The island witch took in the situation of af- fairs ata een and started forward upon the impulse of the moment. But the hunter, jerk- ing the pate from between his teeth, held t 80 menacingly near Cicely’s heart that she stopped abruptly and looked on, ‘ Crane cried to the astounded Pelosee, ‘I’ve been huntir home gree a long —_ for eae child, gcse ve her, 1 am not go ve her u tamely, Go back and finish your ofr. I wit no intermeddling, Girl,” to Cicely, ‘ you don’t know me?” ** No,” was the ey “ But I knew you were hunting for me. y am I hunted like a wolf? You know, and will you not tell me?” Cecil Crane was puzzled by the look of intense curiosity that Cicely’s eyes. — he with a mind!” was Cork, sf we aie ber ae ee was no’ c a 6 W b esuedialeda:”: Gis: obbl-tov bite ott oo ¢ the estate, it should ‘a son. Hal + te see into the mat- ter, girl? or am riddles to you be tand where you are, red witch!” Ceoil
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ee Se —— 4 { > 14 ——— 7} tS hs ro Gr. * —— ms a, * 4 7 ae » - e," pee % 4 Yy ’ Pade 3 ate A < Y es ee wie’ od — pat nf eS ieee i or te- oor... SOS SEE pe Di alr ee Ons ra me 7 3 ~~ Key = =x xs eG *% iz ; SAR << se we - pete i m anxiety and interest, told Cecil Crane that his words were not enigmas to her. “Well, the girl did not appear when she be- came fifteen, and the nephew came into posses- sion of the estate which to-day is a vast one even in that rich city. Do you want to know why she never appeared? Shortly after the opening of the will, an Indian was seen prowling around her home some twenty miles frow. the city, and one night both he and the child mek 2ared, The years passed away and the little girl became lost to the memory of the few who knew her. But at last strange stories came to the cities about a white person among these mountains—a girl who lived with an old Indian, The tales sounded like myths, but I believed them. I came here to prove them, and I know now that he are the girl who was carried away by the ndian. You cannot recollect that far back?” “No!” was the answer. ‘‘I thought I had always lived with Patagan.” ‘Ts that his name?” said Cecil Crane, anxious- ly. ‘He who stole you called himself Ocotoc. Ho was an ogreish-looking fellow.” “ Patagan often talks of Ocotoc,” Cicely said. “T wish I could lay my hands on the imp! Crane said hoarsely and with rising passion.” “‘ He lied! lied basely! He said that you were dead, and yet I dare say he brought you here and sold you to Patagan.” - “But what are you going to do?” asked Cicely seriously. “That is getting at the matter!” flashed Ce- cil Crane. ‘‘ What do you think [ came here for? I am the nephew of the old man who willed you all his money. | Some day or other you would be found by that meddling boy, and turn up suddenly in New York, There was another aieune in that will that I haven’t mentioned. Well, never mind! it wouldn’t help you to know it. Don’t you see what I’m driving at? You are in my way, curse you! You can make me a beggar—so confoundedly poor that the richest pe in the =~ aptoage quarrel for the first ick at me. This is plain talking, Cicely Draeme; you can’t misunderstand me! _Misunderstand him when his eyes fairly danced in the fire that seemed to consume them. “Tt cost me many thousands to get here!” he continued; ‘‘ but the reward pays richly for the expenditure and my toils. needn’t oan Soy inteations back. I’m going to drive this kni clear through your heart. ‘That’s what I came here for!” : pasely uttered a cry of horror and strove to break from the hunter’s grasp; but he held her a 7g with his left hand. * ““ When did the red trollop leave?” he cried, suddenly, noticing that Pelosee had mysteri- ously and without noise disa : The spit, burned half in twain, was. ready to let the grouse drop into the fire, but the Indian 1 was not near to prevent the threatened ca~ he, waide ncal a fool at her et _— se again turning e. ‘*WasIso wrap up in my talk as to be so foolish? She may be ng the rifle at my breast now. Curse my more than empty-headed folly!” _ For a moment he remained undecided how to act; but he covered his breast wet 8 with his captive and retreated from the firelight. ‘Tt woud be dangerous to lift the knife here!” he said in a low tone, which reached the girl’s ears. ‘But in the woods Pll make my property secure, and then the others who want you can have you!” The forest seemed to swallow Cecil Crane and his ner in its gloom. The grouse fell into the fire, and to burn there. Deeper into the woods the hunter went with vengeance in his eyes, and his hand on his knife. Cicely, resisting no longer, did not utter a word. ° All at once there came a startling cry from the shaded depths, and then the sound of some one running deeper into the gloom. The ery was not re ; the very — taken up on every side by the tone, seem to the story of some deed of blood, and ghastly crime, ey feet of the unseen runner neared. ke an a the unknown bound- ed forward a and all once came into the Crane, and alone! There were footsteps behind him, and he ht sight of a female figure, clad in a fan- stic Indian dress, and hastening forward. this. in the moment of his halt in the fire- be ey recover strength for a resumption pa ay With a wild bound he started forward again and bis foot was crossing the line of light when the crack of a rifle echoed shrilly and clear in the forest aisles. i The last werd of his triumphant sentence ceased to quiver his lips, for a cry so often the recursor of death drove it hence, and he fell *kward to the very edge of the forest fire! “IT told him the vultures and wolves should quarrel over his carcass!” cried a voice, and the next moment Piney Paul bounded into the lighted arena. e turned csp té zreet the springing form of Pelosee, but stopped with a strange cry, and, starting back, gazed with horror at the burden that hung from the witch’s arms. “My God! is this the end of the trail?’ he cried, as Pelosee came forward. ‘‘ Tell me that Cicely is not dead. If she is, I wish Cecil Crane had a thousand lives, that I might take them every one!” «Pelosee did not reply; but laid Cicely, or Lit- tle Arrow, at Piney Paui’s feet, and then looked up with the unmistakable triumph of jealousy in her sparkling eyes! A CHAPTER XVITI. THE END OF THE TRAIL. Wuen Piney Paul darted forward, it was to lift Cicely from the ground, and to look into her expressionless face, ‘Dead it is!” he cried, glancing at Pelosee who waited impatiently for a confirmation of her hopes. ‘‘ Who did this, girl—you or Cecil Crane?” ‘*T, sir!” came the unexpected reply from the white man, who had partially raised his body from the ground, ‘ Dead, the brat is, you say, Piney Paul? Look again and tell me truly!” Cicely dropped from the boy’s embrace, and _— a revengeful cry he turned upon Cecil Jrane, But his hand was not lifted against his pale- faced foe, for the villain fell back crying— **Dead! dead! thank heaven! they can’t take it from Blanche!” The mountain boy em for Pelosee’s arm was between him and his foe. ‘‘The long trail—see!” she said. ‘‘ He lies as still as Pelosee’s bear in the forest!” Sure enough, Cecil Crane was lying motionless at the fire, and a glance served to show Piney Paul that he was dead! “Come!” he said to the witch, as_he took ~ Cciely’s body in his arms again. ‘ We will see the cave now. All my t have ended!” He turned away, followed by the scarlet girl, and the figures passed from the firelight. “ How long ago was it, Paul?” ** Did he not tell you that night?” « “Yes; but I want to hear it from your lips. Pelosee is not here now.” “ She left the cave last night, so do not let her bother your thoughts. It was fifteen years ago, or more. I do not recollect the matter; but when I grew pe they told me all about you. They said that Ceci) e was at the bottom of the trickery, and when word came from these mountains that a white girl, guarded by an old Indian, dwelt berwnt ) them, I came hither to find ou. need not tell you that Cecil Crane came, Be for he believed that se were his cousin, the person who could take his ill-gotten wealth away, and bring upon his head the obloquy which he deserved. We hunted and fought one another for you. I know now why Ocotoc knew of you, for at Cecil Crane’s instigation he car- you from home and gave you to vores. That night I thought her were dead; but how glad I was to discover that the knife had pierced your arm, and not-your heart.” ** And we will go to the city now?’ ‘““When I have seen Ocotoc and heard from his lips the story of Cecil Crane’s villainy.” “What! W. 1 you venture upon that dread- ful island = pee “Yes, ould you not like to see old Pata- _gan once more?” ‘* He was very kind to me,” was the reply. ‘He would give me up to you, and tell me ollow you back to the houses of my people.” It was in the pictured cave ence described to the reader that the foregoing conversation took Cicely reclined on a couch of skins over which the mellow light of a pine fire fell, and seated beside her was Piney Paul listening with —e joy to the words that fell from her Cecil Crane had misdirected his last blow in the shadow of the Adirondack woods. Startled by the approach of Pelosee he had aimed a blow'! at Cicely’s heart, but the blade penetrated her; arm, thus saving ker life. And he had paid for all his villainy and heart-: less scheming! For several days the white girl had lain om the couch watched unceasingly b y. Bee Paul, who resolved that he would not leave her side until he had ie, her in possession of her rights in New York Pelosee had followed him to the cave. The Indian girl noticed with nosign of joy Cicely’s return to consciousness and health. Her eyes fell evilly upon the zealous watcher by the couch, and more than onco the boy caught her casting angry glances at Cicely. He felt that the witch still required watching zen the dangers of the forest were not yet jassed. ; But let us return to the youthful twain in the cave. They were its sole occupants, and their con- *versation for a long time was not interrupted. All at once, a ery that caused the boy to leap: to his feet came into the cavern. It seemed to come from a throat not far away, and beneath the rocky roof of the corridor leading from the: water side. It wasacry of mingled pain and defiance! Bounding toward the chamber, rifle in hand, Piney Paul was suddenly confronted by a hide- ous human which he with difficulty recognized, . as Nokomis, — } The terrible aspect which the last Upas pre- sented had been created by the demon of fre. His long hair had been burned to the skull, and his body, repulsively disfigured by flames, was. enough to drive the boy back! A wild ery erga rom the Indian’s throat: when his eyes fell upon the mountain boy, and. brandishing the tomahawk which he griped in. his right hand, he turned to the opening with the desperation of a tiger brought to bay by re- lentless pursuers. The next minute Piney Paul was at his side.. “They caught Nokomis in the woods!” the hunted Indian said. ‘‘ They tied him to a pine and piled sticks around him, Then they shot: arrows into his arms and legs and burned his: long hair away. But Nokomis lifted his voice to the Great Spirit for strength, and it came; it went through his body hot and swift. He broke the sinews and kicked the fire pray: but it is in his limbs yet. He fled and the ollow- ed, Nokomis broke the arrows off in his body, and they kept him back, Mountain Cat, they are here. Hist! they can trail Nokomis by his: blood and the scent of his burned limbs. Go back and iy with the flower of the lost lodge,’”” “No!” said Piney Paul, determinedly, “TI. will defend her here!” , There were unmistakable si of the a proach of Nokomis’s hunters. ey had - ed the last Upas to the pictured cave, and were entering it, eager to finish the work begun in the forest. 3 The corridor that led to the water made & gradual slope from the spot where the defend- ers stood. It was narrow, high and dark, and! was uy. revealed by the light of the fire. The hunters were in the corridor; they were creeping cautiously forward like panthers upon their prey. To them the location of the cave — was unknown; but they Srpected to find Noko- Es soon and him. This was their ambi- ion, For several minutes the two defenders listened to the sounds that betrayed the presence of the Money e ul glided the fir iney Paul gli to t eand took there- from a flamin Pores ape “Tl open the ball!” he said to the chief. ee Saha nell at el ee sage witha ye at wo credi Re Biets wei ada aap. ‘The fellow’s mad!” cried the boy. ‘ Gim- ri and crickets! there’ll be some tough work. - The “‘ tough work” began even while he . speaking, for the wild cries of combat and thes sc a ae aa ye pa Sse _— Sas. fA: po~
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vor blows told him that Nokomis, the hunted, was fighting his last battle. reathless, but with ready rifle, the little mountain hunter stood at the mouth of the cor- ridor listening to the conflict which he could not see. He know that the Indian hunters had closed in upon the Upas like wolves upon the weakened quarry, for there were no mad blows now, only the noise of the death-grapple of giants, The struggle ceased so abruptly that Piney Paul started and sprung to the fire for a torch, With one in his hand ho returned to the spot and flung it, blazing wildly, down the passaze, It revealed no men struggling for the mastery ; - but instead an object which bore a semblance to pe human form, was creeping slowly toward im. It came on until the glitter of tho deep-set eyes told the boy that it was the Upas. With a great effort he dragzed himself from the opening and uttered a cry of triumph cs he cast something, grotesque in its hideousness, at the boy’s feet. ** Scalps! by the holy stars!” cried Piney Paul, recognizing the trophies. ‘‘ And you came out best at last, Nokomis?” There was no reply, but the smile told the boy that his words were understood. Nokomis flung his bloody knife upon the heap; then, actuated by some horrid impulse, crept forward, and picking up the blade, drove it re- vengefully through the scalps, effectually pin- ning them to the ground! It was the last act of his life, for with his hand still clutching the knife as if he would hold the scalps down, he gave one gasp and fell over on his side. Nokomis, the hunted, was dead; but be lay in triumph upon the twelve scalps of his inveterate trailers! * Nokomis, you were brave,” said Piney Pavl, “but you left me for Cecil Crane’sgold. P’raps you wouldn’t be hero if you had stuck to me. But it’s too late now. I'll leave you here to guard this place.” ; The boy turned back to Cicely, who had, with much anxiety and interest, awaited the end of » the battle. There was an eagerness in her face which in- stantly attracted the boy’s attention, ‘‘ Paul,” she said, in a whisper, “‘there is a person in yon shadow. Twice I have caught a movement there. I am not feverish now, I have been awake all the time.” eX es The boy turned toward the dark spot indicated by the girl, and instantly stepped forward. But he had not advanced far before a figure stepped from the shadows, and with flashing eyes and a knife stood before him. It was Pelosee! Piney Paul threw himself between the witch and Cicely, for the light in the eyes of.the former and the presence of the knifo betrayed her in- tention. “No!” cried Piney Paul, meeting her look with defiance. ‘‘ Your jealousy has got the up- per hand of you. I want no following now. f you offer to kill Cicely, Vl drive a bullet through you, I told you this once before. I will not tell you again! Go back to Ocotoc, and tell him that the girl whom he stole long ago is going back to her tien im, but what he knows, I guess enough!” Pelosee did not reply; but stood undecided where she bad halted. ’ _ * Took up and see the face of Watchemene- toc!” cried Piney Paul, pointing toward the ceiling of the cavern. ‘‘He wants to see you touch the white girl!” The red witch looked up and uttered a wild ery of horror and fright. The eyes of the picmed ogre seemed to scin- tillate with true fiendishness, and the bat-like wings appeared to move! panes With a cry, she started back; the knife drop- te from her hands, and, springing over the ead body of Nokomis, she disappeared! “Tt’s the last. of her!” sai “‘She’ll go back to Ocotoc, and perhaps fling herself among the wolves. Creeks and crashes! the Old Harry must have held my hand when I made his picture up there!” : onsip ge at.iast seemed breaking over the head of Cicely Draeme. She held out her hand to Piney Paul, and said: know well “T feel that the trail is leading us out of the woods. The lodge of white people does not seem ierewand tard > “It was not distant, though many millon ‘geen ween it and the cave, © ed their weary lengths bet eee There was commotion in the fashionable so- | I was going to seo Piney Paul. | Th Hidden Lodge. ciety of early New York when Piney Paul, ac- companied by Cicely, clad in her fantastic forest garb, appeared and claimed the wealth of Cecil rane. Blanche, the villain’s haughty wife, tried to laugh the twaiu’s pretensions down; but Paul, who stood’ in her luxurious drawing-room, brought his fist down upon the table and cried with emphasis, while his eyes flashed fire: “Laughing proves nothing! Creeks and crashes! the girl's got to have her rights, and I'm going tosee that she gets every shilling due her, I mean business! The will gives your wealth to her at thisday. Say she is not Cicely Draeme, and Pll tramp back there and bring old Ocotoc himself here. Ha! that hits the mark! Business is business! You must give up all, This house suits Cicely and me, © want to live hore by and by.” The boy was the hero in the city, as he had been in the forest. Ile carried his point, and the wealth belong- ing to Cicely was restored .o her. Ocotoe’s services were not required beyond the confines of his island, and Pelosee, by return- ing suddenly, startled his ogreship. As for Patagan, he did not seck Cicely; but made the best of her absence, and soon after- ward died. Tarsus Nightwell was never heard from after his last encounter with Piney Paul. Oldfoot, he undoubtedly perished in the wilder- ness, a victim to the love of gold. Many years afterward a party of men found a wonderful cave among the cliffs of the Au- sable; it seemed a veritable galaxy of pictures, and the roof was covered by the head and wings of a demon! But the cave was not tenanted, except by a lot of bones, which marked the last resting-place of Nokomis. I need not add that Piney Paul—Paul_Bur- leigh, as his true name was—wedded the Little Arrow of the Adironiacks. The reader has an- ticipated this happy denouement, Thus the wild mountains lost their little hun- ter, and Right, triumphing in the wilderness, thrived in the city, to the delight of honest people! THE END. Beatlle's Half-Dime Library BY HARRY HAZARD, ” 828 Arkansaw Jack; or, The Scourge of the Mines. 829 Red-Skin Tomy or, Phe Demon's Trail, $42 The Mountain Devil; or, Yellow Jack, the Outlaw. BY WILLIAM . EYSTER, 190 Dandy Darke} or, The Tigers of High Pine. 210 Faro Frank; or, Dandy Darke’s Go-Down Pards, - BY W. J. HAMILTON, 68 The Red Brotherhood; or. The Twelve Avengers, 66 Bingle Mand; or, A Life fora Life, st 72 Mad Tom Weatern, the Texan Ranger. 887 Ben Bird, the Cave King; or, Big Pete’s Scoop, BY FREDERICK DEWEY. 818 Cimarron Jack, the King-Pin of Rifle-Shots. A478 Tangemund, he Desert Vetective. 542 The Canyon Pards. : BY LIEUT,. H. D. PERRY, U. 8, N. 176 The Boy Runaway; or, The Buccaneer of the Bay. 80 The Sea Trailers or, A Vow Well Kept. ‘ 152 Captain Kit3 or, Tho Mystury of Montauk Polit. BY GEORGE C, JENKS. 485 Git Thar Owney, the Unknown. 492 Git Thar Owncy’s Pledge. 618 The Demon Doctor. BY OAPT, ALFRED B. TAYLOR, U. 8. A, 191 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker; oz, The Doomed Thirteen. 194 Buffalo Bill’s Bet; or, The Gambler Guide. BY COLONEL DELLE SARA, 108 The Lion of the Sea}; or, The Vailed Lady. 186 Cool Desmond ; or, The Gambler's Big Game, BY JOUN J. MARSHALL. AO Roving Ben, A Story of a Ye American. v7 The Outlaw Brothers; oa The’ Captive of the Harpes. BY BRACEBRIDGE HWEMYNG. 89 Ialand Jim; or, The Pet of the Family. 91 The Captain of the Club; or The Rival Athletes. 101 Jack Markaway in New York. BY FRANK DUMONT. 120 The Rrsades Me and: orate Man of Mystery. «Fire, the Boss of the Ron 4 135 Rine Blazea; or, The Break 0” Day Boys of Rozky Bar 171 Ebony Dan; or, The Rival Leagues, ~ 185 Evil Eye; or, The Vultures of the Rio Grande. Like Simon | 881 Black Nick 1 oe BY JAMES L. BOWEN 107 One-Eyed Sim; or, The Abandoned Forest Home. 110 The Black Steed of the Prairies. A Story of Texas. BY CAPT. MARK WILTON, 256 Young Kentuck; or, The Red Lasso. 270 Buzzard Ben; or, The Riot at Keno Camp, 286 Josh, the Boy Tenderfoot, BY J. W. OSBON,. 469 The Rival Glants of Nowhar’, 498 Caetus Burr, the Man from Hard Luck. 587 Old Buckeye, the Sierra Shadow. BY GEORGE WALDO BROWNE, 86 Dandy Rock the Man from Texas. 90 The Dread Rider; or, The Texan Duelist. 99 The Tiger of Tnoas or, Dandy Rock’s Angel. 115 The Mad Miner; or, Dandy Rock’s Doom, 181 Tho Golden Mandy; or, Dandy Rock to the Reacue, 164 Dandy Rock’« Pledge; or, Hunted to Death. 178 Dandy Rock’s Rival; or, The |iaunted Maid of Taos, BY ©. DUNNING OLARK, ‘ 185 Captain Paul; or, The Boy Spy of the Mountains, 280 The Yankee ajah; or, The Fate of the Black Phar les BY CHARLES E. LASALLE, 560 Burt Bunker, the Trapper. : : 562 The White Buffalo. A Tale of the Northwest. IBY CAPTAIN FRED. WHITTAKER, 15 The Sea-Cat; or, The Witch of Darien. _ 29 The Dumb Pages or, The Doge’s Davghter. 48 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. 150 Lance and Lasso; or, The Children of the Chaco, 154 The Swerd Munters; or, The Land of the Elephant Riders. 159 The Kost Cappatny or, Skipper Jabex Coffin’s Crulse to the Ypen Polar Sea. 200 The Boy Bedoutna; or, The Brothers of the Plumed Lance. 214 Wolfgang, the Robber of the Rhine. 249 Milo Romer, the Animal King; or, The Round the World Wanderer. 265 The Tiger Tamer}; or, The League of the Jungle. the Demon Rider. 895 California Joe's War Trail. BY MAJOR E, L, 87. VRAIN, 292 Sancho Pedro, the Boy Bandit, 804 L-adville Nick, the Boy Sport. 812 Redtop Rube, the Vigilante Prince, B28 Brimstone Bob, and His Lightning Horse Quartette, 852 'Torbatone ‘Tom, the Arizona Boy of Sand,” BO Wd om ® , oon ‘ nv V reatler, 871. Kingbolt. Chria, the Young Hard-Shell Detective, BRO Avalanche Alf, the Foothills Guide. 890 Jaguar Joe, vf the Mount in Mall-Line, BY J, C, COWDRIOK. 860 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery. 869 Shasta, the Ciotd Ke luur ¢ or, For Seven Years Dead, 420 The Detective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Withows Name 424 Cibuta Johny or, Red-Hot T mes at Ante Bar, 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout. 467 Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude 400 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo, 506 Redlight R Re? the Prince of the Road. 514 Broadway Billy’« Boodle, : b24 The Engineer Detective 586 Broadway Billy’s ‘ Difikiity.” MISCELLANEOUS AUTHORS, 4 The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt Mayne Reid and Frederick Whittaker. 9 Adventures of Baron Munchansen, 12 Gulliver’s Travels, By Dean > wilt, 14 Aladdin; or, The Wonderfol Lamp, 16 Robinson Crusoe. (27 Iiustrations,) 18 Sindbad the Sallor. His Seven Voyages, 22 The Sca Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe, By Juan Lewis. 88 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates of the Carribers, By S, W. Pierce. 86 The Boy Clown; or, The Queen of the Arena. By Frank * §. Finn. 88 Ned Wylde. the Boy Scout. By Texas Jack. $1 ane Bey Rifles; or, The Underground Camp. By Archie >. rons 95 The Rival Roveras or, The Freebooters of the Missisaippt- By Ltent.-Col, Hazeltine, 98 Robin Wood, the Outlawed Earl; or, The Merry Men of Green- wool, By Prof, Gildersleeve. 105 Old Rube, the Hunter; or, The Crow Captive. By Captain Hamilton Holmes. —S 112 The Mad Wuntery; or, The Cave of Death, By Burton Saxe. 124 Tippy, the Texan; or, The Young Champion. By George lemsen. 128 he J oune Privatcer; or, The Pirate’s Stronghold. By Harry Cavendish. ‘ a 148 Sharp Samy or, The Adventures of a Friendless Boy, By J. Alexander Patten. 3 : 227 Dusky Darrell, Trapper: or, The Green Ranger of the Yel- lowstone. By Edward Brmerson. ; 261 Vorams Fearnaught the New York Boy. By George L, en. w 266 Killb’ar, the Guide; or, Davy Crockett’s Crooked Trail. Ensign C.D. Warren. ‘ \ 298 Red Claw, the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid of the Cliff. By Captain Comatock, : B17 Peacock Pete. the Lively Lad from Leadville. By Ligg- tenant Alfred Thorne, BBS The Sky tvetective; or, A Boy's Fight for Lite and Honor, By Maior Mickey Free. . 850 Red Ralph. the River Rover}; or, The Brother's Re- venge. By Ned Buntline, 865 Baltimore Ben the Boothlack Detective. By A. P. Morris. 874 Gold-Dust Tom; or, Ben’s Donble Match. “By George H. > Morne, BT6 California Joe’a Firat Trall, Hover Monastery. a 418 FHily Bombshell, the Cliff Climber. By F. 8, Winthrop, _ 440 Tittle Foxfoot, the Gol Bowie Kid. By Arthur C. Griseom, 475 The Black Ship. Ry Jeho S. Worn ’ By Colone) Thomas .484 Comanche Dick and His ighree Invinetbles. By Py Arthur F. Holt, bs > Scar” wee “Ligh ohg a b2S ard. the Dandy Sport. 582 The Cowboy. uke. A nen issue enovry Tuesday. The HalfDim> Library -is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent DD run on receipt of six cents each BEAD & Punlishers, 98 William street, New York, — eee ng eee By Edwin Brooke Forrest, Ae ve
Page 16
} Bendwood Dick, tho Pring of the Road. By E.L, Wheeler, Veollewstone Jack. By Joyepi E. Badger, Jr. 5 esas King. By Buffalo Bill, (Hon, W. ¥. Codyy) The Wild-Harse Munters, By Captain Mayne Reid and Captain Frederick Whittaker, & Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew, By Oll Coomes, Double number, 10 cents. 6 GU) Biddon, Trapper. By Edward §, Ellis. @ Vho Flying Yankee, By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, . 8 Seth Jones; or, The Captives of the Frontier. By E. 8. Ellis, ® Adventures of Baron Munchausen. ke Nat Todd; or, The Fate of the Sioux ( Japtives, By E, 5. Ellis. a1 The ‘I'wo Detectives. By Albert W. Alken. 428 Gulliver’s Trayels. A Voynge to Liliput, and a Voyagr to Brobdingnag. By Dean Swift, The Dumb Spy. By Ol) Coomes, Aladdin 5 or, RRs Wonderful Lamp. The Sea-Cat. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 6 Rebinson Crusoe. (21 Llustrations) By Defoe. A? Kaiph Roy, the Boy Buccaneer. By Col. Prentiss IngraLam, 18 Sindbad the Sailor, From the Aribian Nights, 9 The Phantom Spy. By Buffalo Bill, ‘ 0 The Double Daggers. By Edward L. Wheeler. 1 The Frontier Angel. By Edward §, Ellis. 2 The Sea serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe, By J. Lewis, & Ni¢k o’ the Night; or, The Boy Spy of 75, By 1. C. Harbaugh, Diamond Dirk. By Colonel! Prentiss figraham, ®% The Boy Captain, By Roger Starbuck. Cloven oof, the Butfalo Damon. By Edward L. Wheeler. Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. By Ol) Coomes. Buffalo Hen, the Prince of the Pistol, By KE. L. Wheeler, TI @, By Cuptain Frederick Whittaker, ‘he Dumb I Rockwood. By Harry 8t. George. Roaring Hal Keen-k nife, Prince of the Prairies. By Oll Coomes. Bob Woolf, tho Border Ruffian. By Eaward L. Wheeler. The Ocean Bloodhound, By S. W. Pierce. 4 Oregon Sol, By Captain J. F. C. Adama, & Wild Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval. By E. L, Wheeler. 86 The Boy Clown, By Frank S. Finn, 87 The Hidden Lod e. By T. C, Harbaugh. BS Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout, By Texas Jack. 89 Death-Face, the Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler, 40 Roving Ben. By J>lin J. Marshall. 41 Lasso Jack, the Yong Muxtanger. By O]l Coomes. 42 The Phantom Miner, By Edward L, Wheeler. 45 Pick rling, the Pony Express Rider. By Capt, Whittaker. attfing Rube. By Harry St. George. 45 Old Ava anche, the Great Annihilator, By KE. L. Wheeler, 46 Glane Eye, the Great Shot of the West, By J. F.C. Adama. 47 Nightingale Naty; or, fhe Forest Captains. By Harbaugh. Black John, the Road-Agent, By Joseph E. Bagger, Jr. 49 Omaha Ol, the Masked Terror. By Edward L. Wheeler. 50 Rurt Bunke’, the Trapper, By C. EK. Lasalle. 1 THe Bo Rifles; or, The Underground Camp. By A.C,Iron, 52 The White Butfalo. By C. E. Lasalle. 58 Jim Bindsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. By E.L. Wheeler. $8 Ned Hazel, the boy Trapper, By Capt. J. F. C. Adams, & Deadly-Kye, the Unknown Scout. By Buffalo Bill. 56 Nick Whitiles’ Pet. By Captain J. F.C. Adams. ~ Deadwood Dick’s Eagles, By Edward L. Wheeler, The Border King; or, The Secret Foe. By ON Coomes. 59 Oli Hickory; or, Vandy Ellis’s Scalp. By Harry St. George. 60 The White tndian. By Captain J, F.C. Adavia. 1 Buekhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team. By E. L. Wheeler. he Shadow Ship. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, be Red Brotherhood. By W. J, Hamilton, Dandy Jack. By T. C. Harbaugh, 65 Hurricane BILL. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. Stiagle Hani; or, A Lite for a Life. W. J. Hamilton, 67 Patent-Leather Joc. By Philip S. Warne. 8 The Border Robin Hood, By Buffalo Bill. Geld Rifle the Sharpshooter. By Edward L, Wheoler. ° Oia Zip’s Cabin. 7 Captale J. F.C, Adama, Delaware Dicky the oun Ranger Spy. By Oll Coomes, 2 Mad Tom Western, the Texan Ranger. By W.J. Hamilton. 78 Deadwood Dick on Deck. By Edward L. Wheeler. 4 Huwk-eye Marre. By Ol! Coomes, 6 at. 6 24 25 26 27 28 ie 62 es 8 8 The Boy Duell By Colonel Prentiss Ingham. Abe Colt, the Crow-Kijler. By Albert W. Aiken. @ Gorduroy Churlle, the Boy Bravo. By E. L, Wheeler. $ Blue Diek, By Captain Mayne Reid, 79 Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. By Albert W, Aiken, 80 Rosebud Rob. By Edward L. Wheeler. $1 Lehtaing Jo, By Captain J. F. C. Adams. t Hagefeet the Wood-Hawk. By T.C. Harbaugh, 88 Rollo, fie Boy Ranger. By Ol! Coomes. 4 Idyl, the Girl Miner, By Edward L, Wheeler. $5 Buck Buckram. By Captain J, F. C. Adama, a6 Dandy Rock, the May from Texas. By G. Waldo Brown. 8T The Cand Pirates, cs, ay tain Mayne Reid. 88 Photograph Phil, the Boy S'euth. By E. L. Wheeler, sd > By the author of ** Jack Harkaway.” D1 The Captain ef the Club. By Bracebridge Hemyng. 92 Canada Chet, the Countorfeiter Chief. By E, L. Wheeler. 94 Midnight Jack, the Rond-Agent. By T.C. Harbaugh, The al Rovers. By Lieut. Col, Hazeltine, 4 Rebin Hood, the Outlawed Earl. By Prof. Gildersleeve, © Deadwood Dick in Leadville, By E. L. Wheeler. 01 Jack Narkaway in New York. Bracebridge Hemyng. 108 he Lion of the Seca. By Colonel Delle Sara. 108 During Davy, the Young Bear-Killer. By H. St. George. 09 Deadwood Dok na Detective, By E. L. Wheeler, The Black Steed of the Prairios, By J. L. Bowen. The Sca-Bevil, By Colone! Prentiss Ingrabam. The Mad Hunter. By Burton Saxe ack Moyle the Young Speculator. By E. L. Wheeler, he Black Schooner. By Roger Starbuck. he Mad Miner, By (corge Waldo Browne, he Musear Captain, By Col. Prentivs Ligraham, lit-Edged Dick. By Edward L. Wheeler, fil Somers, the Boy D.tective. By Charles Morris, ustang Sam} or, The King of the Plains. By J, E. Badger. he Branded Wand, By Frank Dumont. on Chip, the Girl Sport. By F, L. Wheeler. Phil fardy,.the Bess Boy. By Charles Morris, Klown @harley, the White Mustanger. By T.C. Harbaugh. tppy, the Texan. By George Gleason. anze Iill, Miner. By Edward L. Wheeler. ey une Pete. By Charles Morris intend oe=s i 22 ESSzaane i aah SERSEEEE ; Waldo Browne. Bay 8. Ellis, tblacks, By E,L, Wheeler. Bure Shot Seth, By 0)! Coomen. NITE Mark Kit: fy JoseehE. Bedger, 3 yy Joeep oe Helpless Hand. Cc Mayne Re¥ ae ade Titik By awe nl heslet age Lync rs. . C. Harbaugh, BI B z Pra Bolid 8 the Boy Roa vi Ed, L. Wheeler. Nandsome Harry By Charles Morris geer-Face Seal, By Ol! wry. iy Cooines. prtaly Ferzee, ts her Yor fective. By Wistar Knight. By Ol! Coomes. ZT Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. By Charles Morris: S Sharp Sam By J. Aléxander Patten. 9 A Game ot Gold. By Edward L. Wheeler, ® Lance and Lasso, Hy Captutn Frederick Whittaker, 1 Panther Paul, the Prairie Pirate. By Jos. KE. Badger, Jr. Biack Hess, Will Wildfire’s Racer. By Charles Mortis, Kagle Kit, the Poy Demon. By Oll Coomes, The Sword Hunters, By Capt. Frederick Whittaker, Gold Trigger, the Sport. By T. C. Harbaugh. Deadwoed Dick of Deadwood, By E. L. Wheeler, Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. By Charles Morris, Fanuey Frank of Colorado. By Builalo Bill. The ose Captain, By Captain Frederick Whittaker. The Black Glant. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr, New York Nell. By Edward L. Whe ler, Will Wildfiredn the Woods. By Charles Morris. Little Texas, the Young Mastanger. By Ol) Coomes, Dandy Rock’s Pledge. By George Waldo Browne, 165 Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy, By Charles Morris, 166 Hickory Harry. By Harry St. George. 167 Asa Scott, the Steambont Boy. By Edward Wille: 168 Deadly Dash. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 169 Tornado Tom, By T. C. Harbaugh 170 A ‘Trump Card. By Charles Morris, 171 Ebony Dan. By Frank Dumont, Thunderbolt Tom. By Harry St. George. Dandy ifock’s Rival, By Geoige Waldo Browne, Bob Reckett, the Boy Dodger, By Charles Morris, Captain Arizona, By Philip 8. Warne, The Boy Runaway. By Lieutenant H. D. Perry, U.S.N. Nobby Nick of Nevada, By Edward L. Wheeler. Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. By O}l Coomes. Reb Reckett, the Bank Runner, By Charlea Morris. The Sea Trailer. By Lieutenant H. D, Perry, U.S.N. Wild Frank of Montana. By Edward L. Wheeler. Little Hurricane, the Boy Captain, By Oll Coomes, The Hidden Nand, By Charles Morris, The Boy Trailers, By Joseph EL. Badger, Jr. Evil Eye, King of the Cattle Thieves, By Frank Dumont, Cool Deamond. By Celonel Dele Sara, 187 Fred HMalyard, the Life Boat Boy. By Charles Morris. 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy.. By 'T. C, Harbaugh. 189 Bob Rockett, the Crackiman. By Charles Morris, 190 Dandy Darke. By William R. Eyster. 191 Rutfalo Billy, the Boy Bulbwhacker. By Capt. A. B. Taylor, 1$2 Captain Kit, the Wi.!-o’-the-Wisp. By Lieut. Perry. 108 The Lady Road-Agent. By Philip S. Warne. CRAM OM AS SSAA ~ _ am mon = =o cwoKce ~ Re SSK SeENVA THK Je eh rh rk eh rh eet rh ek fr rh ft fe FEROS LMregeieicivveics +4 Buffalo Bills Bet. By Captain Taylor. 25 Dendwood Dick’s Drenm, By Edward L. Wheeler, i} Shadowed, By Charles Morris. 17 Little Grit, the Wild Rider. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 98 Arkanagw, the Man with the Knife. By T. C, Harbaugh, 199 Featherweight. By Edward Willett. 200 The Boy Bedoulna, By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 201 The Black Hilla Jezebel. By Edward L. Wheeler. 202 Prospect Pete, of tne Boy Brigade, By Ol! Coomes. 208 The Roy Pards, By Joseph K. Badger, Jr, 204 Gold Plume, the Boy Bandit. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom, By Edward L. Wheeler, 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. By Charles Morris. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. By T. C. Harbaugh, 208 The Boy HMereules, By O11 Coomes. 209 Fritz, the Boun-Boy Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler. 210 Faro Frank of High Pine, By William R. Eyster. 211 Creoked Cale. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. By Charles Morris, 218 Fritz to the Front. By Edward L. Wheoler. If ub: 1s 1 1! 4 Wolfgang, the Robber of the Rhine. By Capt. Whittaker. 5 Captain Bullet, the Raiter King. By T, é. Harbaugh. 6 Bison BALL, the Prince of er 878 Nabob Ned. By Edward L, Wheeler. 879 Larry, the Leveler, By Charles Morel, 880 Avalanche Alf, By Major E. L. St Vrain, 881 Bandera Bills or, Frio Frank to the Front, By Bushy ame 882 Cool Kit, the King of Kids. By Edward L. Wheeler 888 The Indian Plot. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 884 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero, By Oll Coomey 885 Yreka Jim's Joker. By Edward L. Wheeler. BS6 Captain Cutlass, the Ocean Spider. By T. C. Harty 887 Warpath Will, the Boy Phantom, ‘By Ool. P, Ingmeh,. | 888 Little Oh-my. By Philip 8, Warne A New Inane Every Tucsdal The Half-Dime Library 's fer sale by a!) vewsdeny eoute per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of tx cons sah. BEADLE AN® ADAMS, Publishera, 98 Willics Btrect, New Bey