Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 266) (1882 08 29)
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FOURTH EDITION, sik Vi aay mv im VrAaArv ~— Seem nee” ee ~- \ NO SAL SSS “ CIA ‘\ RW, SO -«* . NS eel : ~ . os oa! Tine a) Veal Vine! deen! eee 1 " 4), etd, ; i “a. ‘tt i Ti! nl td Ta SS a ts $2.50 a year. Entered at the Post Office at New York, N.rY,, at Second Class Mail Rates. Copyrighted tn 1882 by BrapLF AND ADAMS, August 29, 1882. 1 PUBLISHED WEEKL Y BEADLE AND ADAMS Vol. XT. se * VEEKLY BY BEADLE A ADAMS, Price, No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents. No. 266. ial _— Sa ee. Sy hey = = \ RAS ae ‘(PM THE VERY CHAP &&’S ARTER, THE GREAT B’AR AND INGIN FIGHTER.”
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‘Killbar, the Guide, Davy Crockett’s Crooked Trail. BY ENSIGN CHAS. DUDLEY WARREN, (Of the Engineer Corps.) CH/ PTER L IN A FIX, id -wHooP! Thunder and lightnin’! B’ars and catamounts!” The speaker, a stalwart fellow, wearing a bear-skin cap, fringed-hunting shirt and leather leggings, lay sprawling upon the ground in the depths of a Georgian forest. ’ He evidently had fallen from a tree, and his mouth, while screwed up at one side, as if its owner was determined to hide all show of pain, revealed a set of white teeth seem ngly stretched from ear to ear in a ludicrous grin. Half-sitting, balf-reclining, one of his legs was tbrown far up, supported by his right hand, his comical countenance being visible beneath. He was on the point of rising, when froma clump of shrubbery not far off, half a dozen Cherokee Indians, who had probably been tracking the hunter, made their appearance! Thus caught where resistance was impossible, the hunter seemed determined to make the best of bis situation. ‘* Hello, skunks! ain’t this a persition! Take my pictur’, won’t yer?” everal of the Indians raised their toma- Come from t’other side of the Rocky Mountains on a greased whirl- wind, to get rid of Suke Spoon, who are artér me though she knows I are a married man.” He rind 4 to his feet, when his rifle was taken from him, and his arms carefully secured with thongs of deer-hide, \ ‘Big fall—no hurt!” said the chief, glancing up at the tree, “T war up thar since midnight, dreaming about Suke, who had just caught me by the a’r, when down I comed, restored to con- scientiousness, I fell cl’ar.from the top o’ the tree. “Lie!” exclaimed the chief—the broken branch not being fifteen feet above their heads, ‘“*CPar from the top, I tell yer! I broke t’other branch on the way, an’ all from dream- in’ of Suke Spoon. That gal are arter me to marry her, because I paid her some little con- tentions in the way of helpin’ her bile somne maple sugar while her daddy war off. «Arter th ape sweetened up to me, and when I said I didn’t want to marry her, she caught up a grid- iron when I cl’ared the way. She swore she’d foller m@, and she’ll keep her word, as.she are a screamer, I’ve see’d her cl’ar a fifty-foot tree- top, and heerd her scream ten mile off, because oon buy her a caliker gown.” lie. Here, hes pi fale-face. talk pleat t id and round like clouds change a time,” the chief, personifying a -. : of fals cman as they struck his mind. “ Burn ay p in fire and smoke. How like that? Yer may burn my carcass but not my speerit, which are innumerable, I don’t keer a fig fur you, nor fur any other red skunk.” The Indians had now started. All round them as they proceeded, sung the sweet birds, The red light of the rising sun wove lines of beauty among the leaves of the pinnated calabash, the chestnut and the melan- choly cypress; the fragrance of golden lily, sumac and thorn-apple filled the air. In less than an bour the party reached the camp. Among the assembled warriors stood Omoski, the handsomest, bravest, and most expert of his tribe, the son of the old chief Comigo, who had just come in with the prisoner. ot far from the young Indian warrior, watching him askance, was pretty Minniho, the belle of her tribe. She was attired in white deer-skin, which, trimmed with red, became her, well- matching the blushing cheek, the shining masses of dark hair, and the soft, black eyes. ‘* This are a charmin’ little gal,” remarked Killb’ar.. “ Thar’s a hull hushel of stars in her eyes, and enny amount of luvlight. Ef my heart war as susceptible as it war once, I should sartinly get entangled like a bull-fish in a net, Thar’s Suke Spoon, which thinks herself some, bux she kin make no comparative to this ’ere, whose feet. to use a poultry (poetiq compres- Killb’ar, the Guide. sion, is no bigger than white by ow while Suke’s is big as frying-pans, and shakes the ’arth like an oliphant’s.’ While the other maidens were gathered round the new arrivals, Minniho, unseen by. them pped into Omoski’s hand a string of beautiful —— beads, which she had worked for him as a gift, he young man bowed, and rather carelessly thrust the present into a pouch at his side, then joined those of his people who had gathered round the prisoner. ‘*Burn soon,” said Comigo; “ first see Indian throw tomahawk and knife.” “Ef l’m to be burned, I wish you’d hurry up! The pleasures of anticipation ain’t very temptin’ under present sarcumstances,” cried Killb’ar. The old chief’s remark was greeted with ap- plause. There was, on this day, to be a trial of skill with the weapons mentioned. ‘* Omoski will throw, too,” said the old chief to his son. ‘‘Omoski would rather seek the Rep Bran,” was the answer. Killb’ar, while perpen 4 indifferent, pricked up his ears at mention of the Red Bear. From boyhood having had intercourse with Indians he could understand almost every word uttered by his captors. This was not the first time he had heard the name of the RED BEAR pro- nounced ws savages. It wasan appellation they occasionally bestowed upon DAVID CROCKETT, who, at this period, was celebrated far and near for his wonderful deeds. From what the prisoner could gather, Omoski —than whom none of the Cherokee, or in fact of any other tribe, was more distinguished in chase or battle—had from youth panted to seek for mortal combat the formidable white hunter of the West. On this day he had won the long-wished-for consent of his father and the other chiefs, to go in search of the great Red Bear. But conditionally: If in seven days, by which time there was to be a battle with the whites, Omoski should not bave met the Bear, or if, without having fought the same, he should re- turn too late to take part in the battle, he was to die by his father’s own hand! Overjoyed, the young Indian now was the most active among his companions preparing for the game. The preparations soon were completed, The tomahawk was first to be thrown. An Indian youth stood with his back to a tree, the weapon to be hurled within an inch of him without touching a hair. In a few minutes all but Omoski had made the trial, their tomahawks striking an inch or so wide of the mark. Easily without apparent effort, the chief’s son pulle forth his weapon and hurled it, There was alow murmur of applause as the edge buried itself in the very line marked for the target, ‘* What think of that, pale-face?” ‘* Well enough for an Injun,” answered Kill- b’ar, ‘‘ but not a sarcumstance to what I’ve did, T once throwed a knife cl’ar over the top of a hundred-foot tree, so that it comed down, p’int foremost, and stuck in the head of a red-skin, beneath, on t’other side,” A contemptuous shrug was the only response. The game proceeded, the knife being brought into requisition. Many of the Indians hurled it well, but none of them to equal the skill of Omoski, who threw bis so that the point ie through the scal in pe the youth at the tree, pinning it to t runk, Stil: nillb’ar looked quite indifferent. ‘*Wagh!” shrugging his shoulders; “ this chap are smart, but.he ain’t a sarcumstance to me !” The speaker's bonds were severed, a knife was placed in his hand. * ‘Let pale-face try,” was the sneering remark, “Ker-whoop, yer skunks, now ye’ll see the fire fly?” Refusing the knife, he picked up a rotten we and hurled it straight at the Indian ous , striking him with the missile on the ead. “Thar, kin yer beat that!’ he exclaimed, nning as the pieces of wood fell all round the ndian’s face. The old chief looked angry, and shrugged his shoulders. ‘*The pale-face can do nothing. His words are as thunder from a little cloud!” *Jist give me a knife and te see. Let a gal stand by the tree instead of that ’are mas- culine!”’ Not one of the maidens would come, u abe old chief proclaimed that Omoski would, Grow, when forth stepped pretty Minniho, thus Show- pcs “se a SSS sss SS SSS ing her unbounded confidence {mn her lover's skil. The word was given, the blade was hurled with a quivering motion. Catching a lock of the girl’s hair round the handle, the knife struck the tr within a quarter of an inch of the bright head. ‘That sart’nly war a powerful throw!” em- claimed Kilib’ar, ‘‘ but [ kin beat it.” Several strong arms arrested bim as he lifted the knife he held. ‘*Wagh! you're afraid! yer haven’t narve enough! Ker-whoop!” vegas wd the taunt, the Indians released his arm. veral, however, stood ready to brain the hunter, if he should harm the tribe’s fa- vorite. ‘Now jist look hyar!” home | aim,.he hurled the knife, when those who "bad expected to see it pierce the flesh of pretty Minniho, beheld it flying ten yards to the left of her, the handle striking on the nose the tribe’s prophet, a little stumpy old Indian, sup rting himself on a stick. Phat war a mistake! Let me try ag’in!” Jeeringly an Indian gave him the knife, which, being thrown a second time, went turn- ing over and over up among the branches of the tree. ‘Whar is it? whar are it?’ inquired the hunter, turning round and round, while pines upward, Hooraw! none of yer kin beat tha ane I tossed the knife c’lar up into the sky!’ As he spoke, down came the weapon, falling into an iron pot behind the tree. The Indians, having had enough of the cap- tive’s skill, now made him sit down, while pre- parations were being made for his torture and death. Minniho, passing him, he touched the skirt of her robe. “ Jist tell yer lovyer that ef he wants to find the Red B’ar, I kin guide him to the quarters of that ’are, as I happen to belong to the same pare I kin do it in seven days easy, if nothin’ appens.” . On being informed of this, Omoski eyed the speaker keenly, A good judge of character, be was convinced that the hunter did not deceive him,. There was also a something, a peculiar magnetism about the captive which pleased Omoski. He liked the man, and used his influ- ence with his father to take him as bis guide. Strong objections were urged, but Omoski’s impulsive eloquence was successful. Deprived of all weapons, the bunter should bea the Indian’s guide, the old chief advising bis son, when the two halted for sleep, to bind the arms and feet of his prisoner to prevent his es- cape, and always, when on the trail, to keep the white man in front, and to be ready to shoot him down at any proper provocation. CHAPTER II. A BIG LIFT. At sunrise next morning Omoski stood a ped for his journey. He wore a buffalo cloak, rettily trimmed by Minniho, and carried besides is bow and arrows a handsome rifle, tropby of a victory won in fight with a celebrated chief. Minniho turned aside her head to hide the tears of mingled pride and grief when the young warrior came to bid her adieu. é ““Kerr-whoop!” exclaimed Killb’ar, “his buz gum ain’t stirred by the divine inflatus. Why, gin er and merlasses! WhenI war Dig oat a {ttle critter once comed along and begun a- weepin’ out her sorrers on my sboulder. My feelin’s sart’inly war then beyond compression. My heart war Tixe a lump of meltin’ lead, an’ my hull bein’ war stirred like a wasp-nest, ie a stick are ee inter it. To get rid of my deliktt situation, I jist gave one spring which landed me cl’ar down to the bottom of a well, thirty feet deep, when I war soon cooled off, arter blowin’ a few bubbles to the top,” Striking into a path leading welbyrard into the forest, Omoski followed his ide, who moved with a celerity which taxed to its ut- most the strength and activity of the young Indian. ‘Come on, red-skin, come on!” Killb’ar would at intervals exclaim. ‘Til bet yer my legs is the longest.” “ Tongue plenty long. Stop speak. Move on!” They journeyed swiftly on, until sundosvm, when finding themselves in the country of Crees, with whom the Cherokees were then war, they proceeded with more eaution. At night they halted in the heart of a thick orest! ‘Stop; sleep! When sun burn sky, keep on”
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“Pm parfectly willin’,” answered Killb’ar, equatting down, and proceeding to help himself to provisions out of the provision-sack, which he was made to bear, slung at his side. ** Wouldn’t yer like some duck flesh, Injun?”’ he inquired, pointing about thirty feet above their heads, whero a large wood-duck sat perched on a branch. ‘*Not cook now; not make fire.” “Sart’inly not, but we mought some other time.” So saying, he suddenly snatched Omoski’s kni’e from his belt, and, by a-peculiar whirl of the hand, sent it speeding upward, glittering like a lightning- flash in the rays of the moon. To the Indian’s unbounded surprise, the knife ae through the bird, -which fell dead to earth. “Funny man,” said Omoski; ‘‘ thought not know how to throw knife!” “My fingers must hey been cramped in your infarnal camp,” was the reply. The duck was placed in the sack, after which the two prepared for sleep. ‘*Must tie white-face ail fast,” said the In- dian, producing thongs of deer-hide, ‘' Deer steal away when tiger sleep. Come!” ““Beggin’ your pardon, the deer, as you tarm him, refuses to be tied. Who in thunder are ou lookin’ atin that way?’ es Omoski’s eyes ashed on him like live coals, The tomahawk was upyaised. * Kill quick if not be tied.’ Come!” “Thar’s no need of my comin’, seein’ as I’m already hyar,” the hunter coolly replied. ‘‘I won’t be tied, but I give ye my word I won't try to escape.” ‘Tie! “Thar, that are the third time I’ve been con- sulted by you and yer brother skunks!” cried the hunter, looking straight over the speaker’s shoulder. Then suddenly moire mg | forward, he pushed the Indian back with a force which brought him to the ground like a sledge-hammer. Left untouched where he had fallen, the In- dian, while burning with indignation, was sur- prised at Killb’ar’s singular forbearance. He could account for this only by supposing the hunter to be a coward, wholly bent on making his escape. As the thoughp passed swiftly through his mind, he hea mething whiz through the air, making a strange, hollow sound. Jumping up, he perceived that Killb’ar was gone. Sy rm About ten feet from where he stood, however, the thick underbrush was violently tated, and a succession of strange noises issued from it. . These noises consisted of heavy breathing, frequent grunting, and now and then a pro- longed, half-suppressed snarl like a panther’s! The noises increased as the Indian hurried to the spot; the voice of his guide now being dis- tinctly audible: ‘You infarnal skunk!—thar’s a taste of my nails! Take that, will yer! B’ars and cata- mounts! Thunder and lightnin’! What yer doin’? Squarm! squarm! squarm and kick, will yer! Thar’s “yee in the eye fur yer! Squir- r-r! squir-r-r! bur-r-r! Hooraw! hooraw! ° Ill make yer fur fly! Yer may kick—yer may jump, and yer may twist! © Hyar’s a hoosier hat’ll blow yer up like @ bar’l of gunpowder!” So rapidly were these words uttered, that they were finished by the time Omoski reached the underbrush whence the voice of the hunter r 7 Pushing aside the bushes, he then discovered Killb’ar engaged in a desperate struggle with a powerful Indiap of the Cree tribe; the motions of both being so swift and ow (oe that their legs and arms seemed to go round and round like a windmill, : Omoski was about firing upon the Indian, when Killb’ar’s voice was again heard: “Hold, thar! don’t yer fire! And now cl’ar the track! Hyar’s the trick of a hoosier cata- mount!” _ So saying, the hunter—who by a skillful movement, had contrived to get between the legs of his antagonist—suddenly lifting himself, sent the Cree spinning head-foremost over Omoski, into the thick shrubbery beyond. The Cherokee sprung toward the spot, toma- hawk in hand, but the other had by this time vanished, not, however, until Omoski had cauchta glimpse of his face,and recognized him as Erigo, a chief who had vainly endeavored to induce Minniho to forsake ber tribe and go to his wigwam. : “Thar!” said Killb’ar, new stepping forth, “that ‘are skunk did fight powe !” “He is a dog!” answered the other. ‘‘He Killb’ar, the Guide. sneaks away when he should fight. His tribe are all dogs. They have bitten some of our men to death. Ten Crees fight two Cherokee— ugh! “T respect yer feelin’s, Injun, and kin under- stand ’em; fer I too have lost them as war dear- er to me than the fattest b’ar or bufferler! Killed by red skunks, the poor critters is a-sleepin’ thar last sleep, not in a horizontal sition like Christ’ins, but with thar or nes scattered hyar and thar like drumsticks!” He then explained why he had thrown the Indian in such an unceremonious. manner. He had seen the Cree, just as his tomahawk was about to leave his hand, and but for his hurling his companion down, the weapon must have cloven his skull. The Indian was armed with a rifle, which he had probably intended to dis- charge at Killb’ar after braining the other. When the hunter sprung upon him, he was in the art of cocking his piece, which the other prev» ‘ed by knocking the weapon from his ey ‘ gi i Gwar a powerful toss I gave the red- skin,” continued the speaker, ‘“‘ but not a sar- cumstance to what I did once, which war to toss one cl’ar up to the top of a tree, a hundred feet high. Although the skunk war dead, he clung to the branch for two hours arterwards!” Heo talk! Pale-face brave, but too much talk!” ‘** Not too fast, Moscow, not too fast. Thun- der and lightnin’! I’ve met with greater adven- tur’s than that! I’ve follered Injuns like a streak! Once I straddled my rifle when I war arter some, and firin’ it off it carried me jist forty miles in a minute, which war too fast, as I war shot cl’ar over tue heads of them I war arter! That V’arned me caution, which are the better part of value |” Returning to the brushwood where the con- test had taken place, Killb’ar reappeared, grin- ning from ear to ear, with the Cree’s rifle and knife, which had been left there. “This is a purty good piece,” remarked the hunter, ‘‘and though I are yer pris’ner, Mos- cow, I'd like to keep thisasa trophy!” ‘* Yes, good! Omoski’s prisoner no more. You save Omoski’s life! Omoski’s hand shall never be lifted against his white—” “ Hist!” interrupted Killb’ar. ‘‘Make no rash promises, Moscow! The best of friends sometimes has scrimmages. Thunder! I war once engaged in a mortal combat with one which war my buzzum companion! I jist fired my rifle in a’r, and give the feller I war en- ‘gaged with a bug, which war so powerful it re- minded us that we war both friends, and war doin’ wrong!” As he spoke, Killb’ar drew forth the ramrod of his piece, and thrusting it into the ground, applied his ear to the upper end. ‘ **T hear a buzzin’ in the arth! Thar’s Injuns around! We'd better make our quarters in some other part.” > “Tt is well,” “00 They traveled several miles further before they again halted. “That Minnie-hello, or hello-Minnie, what- ever you call her, are a purty critter. She are a very different bein’ from Suke Spoon, and I s’pose you intend marryin’ her,” said Killb’ar, stretching himself on the ground, “Don’t know. Perhaps she love somebody else.” “How kin ye know that? Once I thought Suke Spoon war arter a Puritan minister. But I changed my mind when one day he put his foot on her pumpkin-patch! It war an acci- dent, but what a yell she gived! You mought have heard it c’lar hyar. She jist rushed into the garden, and throwed a hot skillet arter him, which showed me that her heart wasn’t pierced by Cupid’s arrer!” ‘*Right! Love like stars, flowers, and sun- shine. No storm—ugh!” “Yer right, Moscow, a-leavin’ out yer stars, which are a little too fur-fetched. The devo- tion of t?other sex sometimes makes ’em desprit. Thar’s Suke Spoon would take my h’ar for not lovin’ her.” “Talk enough! Moon high! Better go sleep!” “That are parfectly sensible, Moscow,” re- jlied Killb’ar. And throwing bimself down, e was asleep in five minutes, thus compelling the Indian to stand guard! CHAPTER III. THE HORRIBLE HAND. A DESIRE to escape the persecutions of Suke Spoon was not the only motive which had led illb’ar to ‘‘ this side of the Rocky rrngiongt # A sort of knight-errant of the woods, be had Co eet ree er eee nega meena ns ow. 2 comer ee ER ate meee neee Saens aentem SC SI thus acquired a strong distaste for settling in one place. Having lost several relatives by tomahawk and scalping-knife, he bad learned to look upon. most red-men as his mortal foes, and had made a solemn vow to assist any white rson whom, in his wanderings, he might meet in a situation requiring his aid. Of tough, sinewy frame, he seemed capable of endu , any amount of hardship—could sleep as soun in a hollow tree or upon its topmost branch as upon the bear skin which he always carried slung upon his shoulders, and could walk thirty miles without fatigue. It was natdral that such a mar, hearing it reported that troops under General Jackson were on their way to fight Seminoles and Cherokees, should set out with the intention of joining the marching army. He had, however, still another purpose in traveling to the East, that of being present at the warriage of a friend of his—a young man named Mark Winters, who, by a trapper, had sent him word of and an invitation #3 ap- proaching wedding, which was to take place in a little settlement near to and on the west of the Savannah river. : This settlement Killb’ar had visited in his boyhood, but could not now recall its exact situation. As a consequence, he had passed i8 many miles before a negro, whom he chanced to meet and question, informed him of the fact. He had, just before beisg captured by the Cherokees, intended to retrace his way; but now being guide to Omoski, he must pass eon- siderably to the nor h of it. The girl whom Mark Winters intended to marry was Lucy Ward, eighteen years old, and the acknowledged belle of the settlement. Her eyes, while full of spirit, were of a soft brown, her skin of a healthy clearness, her features delicate. In fact, there was an expression al- most ethereal about the white brow and in tho intelligent eyes, owing, perbaps, to her superior culture; her uncle, with whom she had lived since an orphaned childhood, baving encouraged in her a taste for books, not often evinced by the frontier damsels of that period. On the day after the advemture met with by Killb’ar and Omoski, Lucy Ward sat in her un- cle’s home, expecting her intended husband, the ‘marriage being fixed for the following night. Hours passed, and still the bridegroom came not, The re rt that Jackson’s troops were on the way ha rendered the settlers more careless than their wont, although there was a rumer | that the settlement might at any time be at- tacked. Mark Winters, wholly unsuspicious of peril, had ridden forth without arms, in the morning, to bring to the settlement the minister who was to perform the ceremony, and who resided in another little village, several miles further to the south. v His protracted absence excited in the girl feelings of great anxiety. Unable at last to bear the suspense, she left the room unseen, and mounting ber horse, dashed off into the woods, boning to meet Mark before proceeding far. Riding ten miles, her horse sudden oie tata branch, which fell crashing in her path, and dashed off at a tremendous pace, ear- rying her miles further, before she could check its course, : Tying the horse to a tree, she then sat down upon a rock, feeling very miserable. She was roused from her troubled reverie by some singu- lar outward influence. She turned and her eyes, to behold those of an Indian fixed keen and glittering upon her face. It was the magnetism of that glance whieh had’waked her. © Indian was Omoski. , . There he stood, mingled admiration and re- spect in his glance; but she, not the lees startled, sprung to her feet with a slight seream. Glancing down, at the same moment, she be- held at ber feet a legge rattlesnake whose eyes seemed turned up to berown! | A half-smile lighted the Indian’s face. ‘** Been kill!” he said, eo bis tomahawk; ‘*cannot harm the white dove!” ‘*Oh, I see! you are a friendly Indian! § [ have you met a white man on horseback in woods?” A cloud passed over the Indian’s face. ** The dove’s heart is in her eyes! She loves white man!” ‘*'Yes, oh, yes!” “‘Omoski has not seen him!” said the young Te er daodpt tatiot\ Regen astiote er-whoo ello r’s a disco t What is it, Maeetier od And Killb’ar, who had halted near a stream been brought up a thorough hunter, and had ! to get some water, now appeared
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-_ a 4 vw uaa Sa Lucy explained. ‘Well, now, this are a meetin’! S80 you are the girl Mark’s goin’ to marry? I’m power- ful glad to sce yer, as Mark war a great friend o' mine! I'll jist see yer safe to the settlement, and will then help to hunt for the missin’ one!’ “Ob, what can have become of him?” ‘‘Cheer up, my poor gal! I'll hunt up your Jovyer! It isn’t my first exper’ence in that are kind of work. I kin say I’ve hunfod up a hun- dred and fifty, found ’em all, and seen ’em united to the objecks of their affeckshuns. One lovyer war so grateful to me that he made me a present of a bushel of potators, a bar’! of b’iled beef, and offered me one of his young-ones when it war born, which I declined because it looked too much like an Injun and had a belly like an empty bar’l of whisky !” Tho three—Lucy mounted on her horse—were goon on their way toward the settlement. They traveled for two hours, when Lucy, who now was much puzzled os to the proper direction, said she believed they were going the wrong way. ‘'Phar’s a smoke 'way off thar!” exclaimed Killb’ar, pointing to the southward; ‘‘ p’raps that comes from the settlement. [ve see’d it ever since noon; hope the Injuns hev not set fire to the houses, but guess not, as the smoke ain’t thick enough. The fondness of the Injun natur’ for fire are parfectly miraculous. Thar’s all kinds of ejaculations as to whar the Injuns come from, some boldin’ forth that they come from snappin’-turtles, some from Asiatic Af- riker, and t’others from terbacker, giager and molasses! Kin eany Christi’n swaller sich non- sense? Come, Moscow, own up that yer race come straight from the devil!” “Manitou knows! Indian come from war- horse! White man from sheep!” “Yer are welcome to yer opinion, Moscow, fectly welcome! Yer great Man-toe, as yer gall him, though, may yet kick yer all into the Percifick ocean!” Omoski’s eyes flashed fire. “The white-faces may drive the red-men into the setting sun! We will sse!” * Not quite so fur as that! With the help of corks yer might float on the ocean and be picked Th, but the settin’ sun won’t pick yer up!’ ‘Why would the white wan rob us? This land was made for us! The birds say this to us. The bright, laughing fish say it, too!” ‘It’s no use, Moscow. Yer can’t make me swaller that. I never heerd a fish larf but once, and that war a big cat-fish, that I made a grab at with my teeth, when I war once hard up for a dinner, and He jst to ketch the Bai eeng as it swum ° ve one ng away from me, and then stickin’ his head out o’ water burst into sich a was split him cl’ar in two. That war a triumph to me! I cooked Seek. and saved t’other for Suke Spoon, with whom I war then on friendly tarms.”. The smoke now was no longer visible. In a couple ef hours, just before sundown, the part beheld something which made them pause wi wensations of awe and surprise. po lg at looking object, it protruded eous looking object, it protru frora the shadows of the lindens, the’ resses white-leafed oaks, growing reund the bor- of a swamp. “Thunder!” exclaimed Killb’ar, cecking his rifle, ‘that area strange critter! It looks like a b’ar as ain't a b’ar, arter all!” In fact, the object at first resembled some ze animal, seated on its haunches, but a tion gave it a different aspect. the trunk of a tree, about fifteen feet tm hight, aepnd and blackened, as if by recent fire. Near the top, a ge straight out, there was something whick migit bave been mistaken for a broken braneh, but for ite pecu- Nar shape and ri ane Examining this closely, Killb’ar perceived that the projection was nothing less than a Auman arm ived of its flesh and of its five ees ! at 4 Thunder! Came hyar, Moscow. sartingly a horrible sight!” Tee Indian advanced, followed by Lucy, whe had dismounted. To whom had the arm belonged! Eulib’ar, trembling with a horrible suspieion, examined the tree closely. There was in the trumk, mear the ground, an opening large en to admit the human body, which, char- red and bleached by fire, the hunter now beheld wedged in the tree. The unfortunate, whoever he was, sad evidently crawled isto the hollow to Indians, who, discovering him, had durus there alive! this are Searehing for something to prove the identity Killb’ar, the Guide. + It’s of the deceased, Killb’ar picked up a ring. This With childlike simplicity he stood, holding soon caught the eye of Lucy Ward, who recog- | them up before her gaze. ‘tacked nized it as one she had often seen on Mark’s “Give them to some girlof your own tribes gy ren c middle finger, cy’s heart is with her lover in the grave. to 4 pi: She leaned almost fainting against a tree. ! valley “Tt is he!” ghe gasped “Oh, my God!” The Indian walked sorrowfully away, and Oyo of: Killb’ar supported her with an arm. was soon out of sight in the deep forest. Finally which g ‘* You are right, I'm afraid, my poor gal. I'll | be paused, again turning his glance toward the tho tw avenge yer lovyer; I’ make some of the red- | settlement. ur fly skins squarm for this deed.” _ ‘Time may come. The white bird may ye /j sombat “That will not bring him back!” moaned | sing for Omoski in his wigwam.” He d Lucy. ‘‘Oh, Mark! Mark!” s he spoke, the Indian fancied he heard in whi Her eyes were wild; it seemed for several b. He up, examined the shrubbery ‘aq be moments as if she must lose her reason. on both sides of him, but seeing nothing, con- oyt. an Omoski, watching her, said: cluded it was the wind he had heard. Who “The white dove must not die. She will live He was mistaken; {t was Minnibo! She had 9 joed to sing again.” indeed followed on her lover's trail, unable to “Ty yew 4 turned, shuddering, away. All Indians, | bear his absence. “Ar friendly or otherwise, must after this excite | Poor Minniho! Ef the Rape digheieiued batcse sey crt ome time elap ore Killb’ar could per- As suade the stricken girl to mouut and resume her aera a, Bia. ¢ journey. A MAD BEAUTY. ator The indian said he would await Killb’ar’s re- | UNOBSERVED by her friends, the Indian girl The turn from the settlement, the houses of which | had quitted the camp to follow her beloved. yoice were visible in the far distance, through an | Carefully tracing the crooked trail, she had poy be opening among the trees. reached the vicinity of the settlement only that. yyere Thither Killb’ar and Lucy repaired. The | morning, and, by the merest chance, had been trae news spread rapidly, and a party soon were at | a witness to Omoski’s interview with Lucy in “D the tree, burying the dead. the grove—bad seen him offer her gift to the pacoyr Omoski had vanished. white-faced girl. ed Having seen the body buried, Killb’ar fol- | Who can describe her grief? self c lowed the Indian’s trail, and came upon him Deep in the recesses of tne dark forest, she+ distar secreted in the shrubbery, his eyes fixed on the | mourned long over her disappointment. denly bouse where Lucy lived. Then hope animated her bosom. Perha with : “See hyar, Moscow! What in thunder are | after all, Omoski’s interest in the girl was noth» who , yer up to? Hope yer mean no harm to that | ing but one of those airy fancies which would wm poor stricken gal!” soon pass away. seizin ‘No; but the spirit is gone out of the Indian! Watching her lover, after he entered the riffo- The eyes of the dove have drawn it away from | woods, she saw him proceed westward. He accor him. They have lighted his heart like the sun, | walked slowly, expecting to meet Killb’ar, un- “y When they go, he sees only clouds!” til night, when he paused. The whippowil N “Thar, now, none of yer poultry. Jist tell | now sung in the tree, the wild-duck shriekedin of jt} me, in plain skunk language, what yer mean.” | the marshy pond. A strange feeling of super- unde The Indian, shrugging his shoulders, answered | stition came over the Indian. eb not, but moved on toward the settlement, Turning, he found himself in front of the A es sory ‘Whar in thunder are yer goin’? Yer’ll | in which the dead body had been discovered erc never find the Red B’ar in that direction.” Was it imagination? No, it was reality, “FT Omoski stopped. There was the arm of the body—that body to sa “Ugh! Yes, goin’ wrong way!” which had been buried—still protruding from claw “Come,” exclaimed Killb’ar, moving toward | the tree! " scrat the west, ‘‘ we ain’t no time to lose!” He was yet more startled at hearinga voice, a tre “Will the white man leave the wounded | seeming to proceed from the hollow trunk! split bird?” ‘¢On, Omoski! on toward the west! Let no 6 “Sart’inly, ef yer mean Lucy Ward. I used | whtte-face lure him from his path! Glory 7. to do a powerful sight of consolin,’ but I’ve | awaits him in his combat with the Red Bear! kyo, lost the fakilty now. Mark war dearer to that | He will conquer!” 6] gal than spi buffeler-meat.” The Indian stood as if spell-bound. : t A shadow crossed the Indian’s brow. ‘The voice of Manitou!” he exclaimed, trem- — ty “* She loved the pale-face well.” bling with awe. That voice shall be obeyed. Lue’ “Yer kin b’lieve that. The r critter are | Omoski turns to the west. The dove’s spell is beli¢ like a crushed grasshopper. ar’s no chirp | broken.” hig left to her.” He hurried on. A cloud passed over the | you Now the Indian, with bowed head, slowly | moon—tbe wind rose shrieking. in ri followed his companion. Hark! was that the murmur of a rivulet! “ ‘‘Ina few days more,” said Killb’ar, “ yer’ll Omoski Siousht so, but he was mistaken. It ‘“ be fightin’ the B’ar.” was the silver laugh of Minniho, still following = nay The young warrior’s eyes flashed; but only | her truant lover. ames for an instant. His glance went back toward Before midnight her heart sunk. g the settlement. Thither he turned his face, The beauty of the white girl again rose like a con every now and then, as the two moved on | summer-cloud in the Indian’s mind. His steps had toward the setting sun. were turned back toward the settlement. bur When night came, they halted for rest and Frenzy was now in Minniho’s heart. The T sleep. baby beauty of Minniho had done the mischief “ Killb'ar awoke at daylight, to discover that | —won her lover away from her. her his companion was gone! A dark thought through her mind. k In fact, Omoski had risen three hours before, Death to the white-face girl! vis’ and taken the back track toward the settle- Minniho carried a superb rifle; she was a iS ment. good shot. to “The white dove has made a coward of Before daylight she was close upon the little per Omoski,” muttered the Indian, as he proceeded, ove, back of the settlement, in which, as she ; ‘“ He thinks less and less of the Red Bear! fhe | had expected would be the case, she discovered t Great Manitou prevent his breaking his word!” | Lucy. — Mi Finally he came close upon the settlement. In this grove she and Mark had often met. ini Sereened by shrubbery, he beheld Lucy | What more fitting place to mourn for her lover! wh Ward, at this early hour, seated in a grove, Watching ber with blazing eyes, Minniho ‘ mourning for her lost lover. carefully cocked her rifle. _ yo He sought her side; she looked up, and shud- Just then, from the opposite shrubbery, ap- ‘ derirg, recognized him. peared Killb’ar, and stood before the white girl, ‘ ** Omoski!” leaning on his rifle. ‘* Yea, come again.” ‘‘ Don’t be startled. You kin seeit’s on’y me! iv ‘“Go, Why are you bere?” Hev yer seen Omoski lately?” thi ‘‘Omoski can not goaway. The dove’s eyes At Lucy’s reply Killb’ar’s eyes twinkled. hold his heart.” ‘* Jist what [ suspected. It’s parfectly mar- on “ Killb’ar said you were bound west, to meet | velous that Moscow, which in t/other respects wl the Red Bear.” : are a sensible skunk, should lift his eyes to such jis ‘“‘Omoski can think no more of the Bear. He | as you. Love, however, are a powerful stimu- of ean only think of the white bird. He would | lator, and works wonders. Thar’s Suke Spoon, dr give up all for ber. See!” which on ordinary occasions isn’t at all given From his pouch he pulled forth the beautiful | to larfter—when that critter used to see me th amber beads Minniho had given him. He would | comin’, she’d burst out a-larfin’, so that I could 80 bave thrown them round her neck had she not | always well when she war expectin’ me by seein’ drawn back. the shingles fly from the roof o’ the house.” ve ““Won’t take beads?” he said, sorrowfully. | Pausing a moment, he went on: M
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ree ss Se ak me ees ween ae nae olding =“ It’s my opinion this ‘ere place will be at- ‘Gacked before long. I] war trampin’ along in tribes g’urch of Omoski a few bours ago, when I come rave obery _con- > had le to she * to a place from which I could se down into a r, and inally the y ye ird in whieh the dead bod valley. Thar I saw two Injuus conversin’. One of them was a Cherokee, aud t’otber a Cree, which shows thar’s some late agreement batween i two tribes. Ef thar wasn’t I’d hey seen the ur fly, as the two would hey j’ined in mortal combat.” He did not add that be had found the grave taken from the tree had been buried, opened and the body pulled out, and pat back into the hollow trunk. Who but Indians would have performed such a deed? **T will tell my uncle, sir.” ‘“ And don’t you come to this grove any more. Ef thar’s Injuns around, yer don’t know at what moment they mought take yer ha’r.” As he spoke, Killb’ar’s eyes lighted up Strangely. ‘‘ Look out thar! Ginger and merlasses!” The words were uttered in a quick, stern voice. Seizing the girl’s hand, the hunter drew her behind a huge oak, not a moment too soon. There was a crash and a bullet whizzed past the tree, ‘*Don’t yer stir from hyar before I come back!” cried the hunter; ‘‘not fer yer life!” So saying, he quitted her, and keeping him- self concealed by the shrubbery, moved to the distance of a hundred yards, then, turning sud- denly into another line of bushes branching off, _ with swift, noiseless steps stole upon Minnihe, who was creeping away. ** Thunder and ligktnin’!” exclaimed Killb’ar, seizing her by the shoulder and snatching her rifle; “what yer mean by sich work, not at all accordin’ to Christi’n principles?” ‘White-face girl must die.” ‘* No sich thing! ou are ahead o’ time. Why, ef it isn’t Minnie-bello! [ know yer now and understand. Jealcusy regardin’ Moscow are at the bottom of this ’ere work!” “The white dove carries Omoski’s heart in | her claws!” cried the girl, gritting her teeth. ‘Bah, she aren’t got any claws. Ef yer war to see Suke Spoon, now, yer might talk about claws, seein’ as hern are like a b’ar’s; she kin scratch an’ pull powerful. I’ve seen her pull u 4 tree by the root, and when wantin’ Rrewbod. Split a board with ber nails.” ‘* Give rifle.” ‘*Ké yer'll promise not to shoot Lucy. I know I kin rely on yer word.” ‘* Rifle! rifle!” cried the girl, stamping her foot impatiently. ‘*Come, now! whar’s the use of this jealousy? Lucy cares nuthin’ for Moscow, and you jist believe me when I tel] yer he’ll soon git over his fancy. Ef you understood human natur’ you'd know that you are the one he are arter, in reality. I know it, ef you don’t,” ““ How know?” ‘*T heerd him, while asleep, pernounce the mame of Minnie-hello one hundred and forty- ve times,” She knew that he exaggerated; still she felt ‘convinced by what he had said, that Omoski had once or twice pronounced her name, or the bunter would not have thought of it. The information subdued her at once, “Give rifle; promise not to shoot,” she said, her eyes glistening, Kill var at once surrendered the weapon, ad- vising the girl to get back to her tribe. She quitted him without reply. He returned to Lucy, informed her of what had passed, and persuaded her to return to the settlement. — Back to the woods again, he met Omoski. He said nothing to him of the presence of Minniho, thinking she would rather not have it known as yet. He however informed him of what be had seen in the valley. ‘Yer people will attack the settlement. Do you intend to jine them or to foller me?” ‘“‘ Omoski must go west.” ‘Come on, then.” ‘*The white dove will singin time. She will sing for some other than Omoski,” murmured the Indian, as he proceeded, ‘You are jealous, Moscow. Suke Spoon war Onee jealous o' me because I looked at a gal while | war a-walkin’ with her. Thunder! she jist_ gave one screech, jumped cl'ar over the top of the gal’s head and went to tearin’ her caliker dress into a thousand pieces.” “Fhe voice of the white-face girl is sweeter than a bird in the mulberry-tree, Her eyes softer than the dew on its wing.” — “Thar, Moscow, that’s poultry ‘ Her Voice are sweeter than Suke Spoon’s, but thar’s Minnie-helio’s, which are as sweet. You'd bet- \ CHAPTER V. KILLB’AR ON THE RAMPAGE. THE news that Indians were hovering round the settlement had alarmed many of the inhabi- tants—among them Lucy’s uncle—who were now packing up to start at once for a stronger post further west, By ten o’clock they set out, the party consist- ing of six mounted women, all married except Lucy, and half a dozen stalwart men, well armed. Many glances of pity and admiration were directed toward Lucy Ward, whose little black riding-hat with its green feather matched well with the sad, beautiful face. The party had proceeded about thirty miles by sundown, and were hurrying on, when a man who had been riding in advance, was seen coming with hand elevated, as a signal to halt. ‘There are Injuns ahead!” Several half-suppressed cries of affright were heard among the women, some of whom turned their horses’ heads as if to seek safety in flight. ‘* We'd better halt and keep a good guard.” Several of the party pluaged into the brush on either side, to reconnoiter. Meanwhile all were aneasy, as their situation was favorable for an attack. They occupied a clearing in the woods, while ahead of them was a deep valley, into which a torrent rushing with impetuous roar, must have drowned the noise of an approaching foe. > The heavens were rapidly growing dark, fore- os a storm. A large tent was hastily erected, and not a moment too soon, for, ere long, down fell the rain in torrents, the wind howled, the thunder roared, the lightning flashed almost incessantly. Night. came, and still the scouts remained absent. The women, in one corner of the tent, were huddled together like frightened sheep, while in another the men kept their weapons dry for emergency. uddenly there was a erash, louder than any previously heard. ‘A tree struck by lightning,” said a man who had been stationed on guard, near the valley. ‘‘Do you hear that roaring noise?’ he added; “that is the torrent which bas swollen. If it don’t stop soon it will overflow the valley.” ‘* Hark! what was that!” The crack of a rifle was heard, then followed a wild scream like that of a man in mortal agony. “Ker-whoop! Thunder, what a storm! S’pose we git into this hollow tree, which are Wig enough to hold us both, ef we can squeeze D Killb’ar and his compen had penetrated deep into the recesses of the forest, where the storm broke upon them. It kept ees 80 that they were in danger from the falling branches of the trees. As Killb’ar spoke, both advanced toward the hollow tree, an oak of huge dimensions, Suddenly the hunter whispered quickly: ‘IT reckon we’d better not git into t tree.” “Why?” ‘‘Thar’s a red skunk thar!” Omoski lifted his rifle. ‘Not so fast, young hoss. Yer mind are so full of that white-face girl that yer don’t know what ye are about half the time. That are always the way with them as is love-sick.” “Ww hat going to do! Indian in tree no see us. “No, but ef I ain’t mistaken, be hev heard us, and are a-layin’ in wait to brain us. His head bein’ way up in the tree, bis eyes ain’t sharp enough to see through that trunk. Once, when I war intently excited, I see’ cl’ar through a walnut trunk six inches thick, but that war a pecoolier sarcumstance, as I wara boy at the time, a-runnin’ away from the school-teacher, of war a-goin’ to whack me with a buffeler- hide. So ing, Killb’ar moved forward, followed by his companion, walking straight past the tree. To do this certainly required nerve, as the Indian’s tomahawk might easily have brained the two while their backs were turned toward the tree. Not a breath, however, issued from the trunk. “ Now I'll show yer a trick,” said Killb’ar, as he cautiously mee tentce the tree from behind. bgt J reached it, he threw himself down, and whirling suddenly round in front of it, t are / | heard of before. | of the hollow! To his surprise, the red-man—a Cree—uttered pot a word, but lay motionless where he had allen, ‘“*Thunder! hyar’s a sarcumstance I nev An Injun non-combatant. rif must be that the Quakers has eonyarted this ‘ere skunk.” As he spoke, a be Yes Baw revealed the eyes apparently fixed, and a blue spot like paint upon the forehead. ‘Ginger and merlasses! I see inter this. The rek-skin hew been struck by lightnin’. Look at this ’ere tree.” Glancing upward, the Indian had noticed what bad so long escaped the attention of the two, he the tree was ripped and shattered in many places. Qmoski followed a short distance the plowed round into which the lightning had 4 © was still inspecting it, when he was suddenly startled by a cry behind him. ‘*Ker-whoop! Thunder!” Turning, his astonishment may be ima when, by a brief flash, he beheld the sup dead Indian upon one knee, his band_on Kill- bar’s throat, his glittering tomahawk upraised to cleave the skull of the man whom he had so adroitly taken by surprise, The young chief lifted his rifle, and, ta ood aim, fired, when, with a yell of agony, jum e the Indian several feet in the air, A ell dead. This was the noise which had beer heard by the settlers encamped in the clearing, ; ‘* Good shot!” cried Killb’ar, jumping up, “and Ithank yer forit. Thar’ll be other red-skins pouncin’ upon ys on account of the noise, though. So we'd better cl’ar the way.” As he spoke, he suddenly leaned forward, and a lightning-flash pointed out the heads of several Indians protruded above the shrubbery skirt- ing the valley, which was on the left of the two, ‘“Thunder! and thar are white men,” contin- ued the hunter, as the settlers, alarmed by the report of the rifle, rushed from the tent, making their way to the edge of the Mage OF As they stood grasping their rifles firmly, the whizzing of arrows and the crack of several rifles were heard. One of the white men fell dead, when, wit terrific yells up started the dusky warriors as by magic. **'To horse!” shouted the little y of wae ‘ 'o as they rétreated, firing upon their foes, horse—there in the tent,” The women were eitber too terrified, or from devotion were unwilling to desert their hns- bands at such a moment. All, however, rushed to the bower in which, revealed by the light of a lantern, hung where the shrubbery was thickest, were the horses. The retreating men, when they reached the tent, finding its fair occupants fone judged that they had made off as directed to do, Taking, therefore, to their heels, they plunged into the shrubbery and ran for their lives. A ‘portion of the Indians pursued, the rest found their way to the bower and threw them- selves upon the women there huddled together like so many frightened sheep. In a few moments five of the poor creatures were gasping out their lives upon the wet ground. The remaining one, Lucy Ward, had thrown herself down beside ber horse, which she bad been unable to loose from the sapling to which it was attached, and with clasped hands wae praying. bether it was owing to ber extreme beauty, or that they could not deeide whether to kill at make her a prisoner, certain it is that the red- mit as they closed rownd her, hesitated to strike. There they stood, hideously revealed in their terrible war-paint, around one defenseless girl gees tomahawks elevated high above the 6 . A few hasty words were exchanged; thenone of the Indians, catching the girl b her long hair, drew back to inflict the deadly blow. —- Bang! cr-r-ack! whi-g-2! ¥ ‘‘Ker-whoop! yer skunks! Pars and ocata- mounts! Thunder and lightnin’!” CHAPTER ¥L OMOSK!’S BRAVE Ramp. KiLxs’ar and Omoski, on bearing the of women, had hurried forward to render as ag ip Bad'c e tangled shru imped their gress, and the work of slaughter ane be -ye
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6 quickly accomplished, they had not approached within sight of the bower until the five women had fallen beneath their savage foes. At sight of the Indian about to strike Lucy Ward, Killb’ar had fired, oe a bullet through the red-man’s heart, while Omoski, with equal promptitude, perceiving that the ongner were Crees, had shot the one by his side. Spriuging inte the bower, with a determina- tion to save Lucy or die with her, both men must have fallen before being able to force the fir) away, but for a circumstance as natural as was fortunate. At sight of the Indians, the herses had neighed with affright and commenced to kick; at the crashing of the two rifles, so close to their ears, their motions had hecome still more vio- lent. Rearing and plunging. they now swerved to one side, forming a barrier between the Crees and the two intruders, who had drawn the girl toward them, “Tyar now, my poor little one!” exelaimed Kailib’ar; “‘hyar’sa chance fur yer to escape! Away yer go, like a streak, and jist make tracks back to the settlement.” So saying, ho with his knife severed the rein, and light!y tossed Lucy upon the baek of a horse, which, with one tremendous bound, cleared the bower and dashed off like the wind! Omoski and Killb’ar were each abeut spring- {og upom amsother horse, when an Indian, v7ho had crawled forward, ped the white man by the leg, while another, throwing hinaself upon Omoski, thrust him out of the bower, en- ing with him in a desperate sti le. -illb’ar drove his knife into his advervsary’s reast; then, springing out of the bower befere the ethers could overtake him, he kmeckod dewn with his clubbed rifle the savage fighting with Omoski, thus enabling the latter to re- treat. The white hunter and the chief’s son started off in different directions through the shrub- bery, just as the other Indians, apy oe clear of the horses, came rushing out of the bower with a loud yell. Favored by the imperfect light of the storm- flashes, Killb’ar hastened along; then, suddenly crawling aside, lay perfectly motionless behind a fallen tree. His enemies had started .im pursuit, and in a few moments ke saw them rush past him. He was about rising to bis knees to crawl in the direction where Onaoski had disappeared, when, by a flash, he noticed the faces of three Indians right ahead of him, not more than fifty feet distant. Ther, were pushing the bushes aside and peer- ing into them. e same flash which had shown them to him had, Killb’ar doubted not, revealed his own rson to them. There was no noise, it was rue, but that was a eircumstance to confirm his suspicions, ing, he therefore made off in a direction opposite to the one previously intended, hurry- ing along with the speed ef a snake. oon he found himself on the edge of the val- ley, which was thickly skirted with shrubbery. Heke t on until he was close to the swollen tor- rent, This had become so great that it was now filling the valley and must soon overflow it. As Killb’ar; paused, he felt the water creeping above his ankles, ry “This are a pesky bad state ef affairs!” he \ muttered; ‘can’t go back, can’t go forrad! Thunder! JIsT LOOK THAR!” The stream, rushing impetuously on, had washed away a huge mass of loose earth, and now, with the roar of an avalanche, was pour- ing into the valley at a rate which must FELL IT iN A SHORT TIME The hunter crawled up the side of the hollow a few paces, then ran along it with the speed of a deer, his body being now exposed to his tsuers. Weveral arrows whizeed past bis Cmte more grazed his temple, somiug frem ahead of him! Glancisg round him by the electric light, Killb’ar perceived thet he was being hemmed in, his enemies approaching from three sides—the torrent holding him in eheck on the other. “ Tt’s all up with me, I sart’inly think,” mut- tered Killb’ar. ‘‘Thar'll he no person left to mourn me exceptin’ Suke Spoon, who will feel she parsecuted meso, when she hears of my ontimely fate.” . : As he spoke, the hunter, shaking his head, felt it come in contact with a ree branch, Glancing up, he discovered that tbe branch which was a slender one, drooped d wnward from a huge oak. This inspired him with a happy thought. As his enemies came closing in upon him, he ca swung himself to the de of the valley; then cut the branch short off, that the savages might not avail them- Killb’ar, the Guide. the swaying branch a other selves of this convenient ‘‘ pendulum” Plunging into the recesses of the forest, he kept on until after midnight, walking in a rig- gag direction, and now and then Burying his trail in a stream, so as to baffle the Indians, who walking along the overflowed valley, would doubtless continue the pursuit, Afterward he took the back trail, moving at right angles with his former course, napa he 1 ard, or might eventually fall in with Lucy at Toast with Omoski. Finally he came to a cave, where he con- cluded to halt for the night. Spreading his bear-skin, he slept soundly until morning. When he waked the storm was over and the sun was shining brightly. The leaves, glitter- ing with rain-drops, resembled jeweled drink- ing-cups, and the birds made music all through the woods. Killb’ar rose, shook himself, and moved on. wary eye around him, he sud tling ahead. enly heard a rus- The next moment he found himself face to face with Omoski, who stepped forth from be- hind a tree. ‘‘Good-mornin’, Moscow! with whole bones!” ‘‘ Glad see again,” said Omoski. ‘‘ Seen white dove?” “Ef yer mean Lucy Ward, no, I am might- ily consarned for that poor gal.” ‘‘So I. Heard scream in night, Seem to eome from here,” ‘‘Heerd a screech? Well, that ’are must have been while J war asleep. Yer say it come from byarabouts?” “ Yes. » ‘“‘Then thar’s no mistake about poor Lucy bein’ caught by some red varmint. We must look her up, Injun, before we keep on our jour- ney west,’ The young Indian’s step was light as he fol- lowed his guide. The two had not proceeded far, however, when the Indian pointed toward a hill upon their left. There Killb’ar caught a glimpse of Lucy’s horse, dashing ricerless over the brow of the elevation. ‘¢T must find out whar the gal is,” said the hunter, ‘‘ You, Moscow, kin keep straight on toward the west, and l’ll jine yer before long, by follerin’ up yer trail.” z ‘*1 go too,” replied Omoski. till know if white bird safe.” He followed Killb’ar, who, seks turning to the left, struck into the shrubbery in that di- rection. Suddenly hearing the sound’‘of hasty foot- steps ahead of him, the hunter paused, bis rifle held ready, The next moment, bursting from the shrubbery, appeared a tall athletic Indian, making off with acy Ward in his arms. The girl was vainly endian orig to disengage her- self, when her captor drew bis tomahawk, as if concluding se put an end to her struggles at once, [ ‘What an ongallant skunk! Hyer’s a pill to Varn yer better manners!” Up went his rifle, and he was about pulling the trigger, when a hollow murmuring noise saluted his ears, and down sunk the savage, with Omoski’s tomahawk in his brain! ‘ As the stricken one fell, there was a terrific ell behind him from nearly a dozen hideous- ooking Indians, who now appeared from the thick brushwood! Killb’ar’s mind was made up in a moment, Dashing forward, he caught Lucy in bis arms, and hurried off with her as if she were a mere child. Speeding on he entered a valley, to find him- self sinking to his waist in a marsh! He clutched a log, deposited his burden thereon, and was about drawing himself out, when he heard a sort of hiss above his head! Glancing up, he beheld his pursuers glaring down at him from the summit of a rock! Three had lifted their tomahawks to hurl them, the rest had pointed their rifles. “Thunder!” cried Killb’ar, ‘it are all up with me! Ef yer see Suke Spoon, tell her that I forgive her her many parsecutions of me, as a Christ’in should. And now blaze away, only don’t hurt the gal!” Lucy, half unconscious, clung to the log right in range of rifles amd tomahawks. ilb’ar therefore, made several desperate efforts, and finally succeeded in bringing to the left of tke girl. “Can not rest ht Walking Pigin 2 while keeping a Glad to see yer ——— > _* Now, then, be keerful to just hit only me!” Bang! went the rifles—whiz! went the toma- parilib'ar th ft his arms, s illb’ar threw up one of his and fell back into the swamp! Yelling exultantly, the savages, clambering down the side of the rock, were approaching Lucy when a nimble form suddenly came swinging to her side from the branch of a tree, drooping above the log. It was Omoski! He bad climbed the tree, and ran out the-brameh with the speed of a squirrel, sliding to the middle, had dropped just after the rifles were discharged. . Catching up the girl, he made off with her like an arrow, darting along the 106 into the thieket bordering the other side of the valley. Soon he reached the foot of the hill where Lucy’s horse had been seen. The hill was steep and rocky in some places, but Omoski did not hesitate. The yells of his pursuers, close behind him, urged him swiftly up the ascent, from one roeky parapet of which, crowned by a huge blasted tree, he perceived he might, for a hie at least, keep his purswers at bay. Heedless of Luey’s struggles to release her- self, he finally gaiued the elevation. ‘* Let the white dove crouch down,” he then hag tender accents; ‘‘Omoski will die for er! He released her, when Lucy turned to flee. This, however, was rendered im ble by a steep rock in front of ber, which she could not. le, and which must be climbed beforeshe could ch the path which ber horse had descended. e shouts of the savages excited feelings of horror and aversion. Bhe crouched instinct- ively, ker head half turned over her shoulder toward Omoski, who, kneeling, held his bow ready, the barbed arrow fixed to be sent into the midst ef his foes. Soon the Indians appeared 5 aga ed the brushweed at the foot of the hill. they came, the foremost to fall pierced by ar arrow from the bow of Lucy’s defender. Quickly he set another shaft, while his voice roiled down the hill like hollow thunder. “Back! or all die! The eagle will save the white dove!” A defiant yell was the response, when whiz! ‘ese another arrow, and down went another () Four were now left. Straight toward the rocky parapet they advanced, two of them armed with rifles. By ascending the rock they migkt now reach Omoski, but there was, in the fire of his eye, a something which made them hesitate. Only for a moment, The next, grasping stunted roots growing from crevices in the side of the rock, they commenced the ascent, being now sheltered from Omoski’s arrow or bullet by the outward projecting of the rock’s ribbed sides. Now the meanizag of that strange fire in the young chief’s eyes, was explained. Grasping the broken trunk of the tree, he pushed upon it, by asingle effort of his tremendous strength, sending it thundering down the side of the rock! The result was as anticipated. The massive trunk, striking the ascending Crees, sent them tumbling headlong to the foot of the rock, where they lay bruised and unconscious with the tree upon them. ‘*Come,” said Omoski, now seizing the arm of the young girl, ‘‘ the eagle will fy away with the dove, She shall yet love him and sing for him in bis wigwam. Lucy heard him not; she was senseless. He caught her up in one arm, scaled the rugged rock in front of them with the help of his gun- sling, gained the hill-path and hurried off. Running along with the speed of a deer, be finally eame to a small cave in a moss-covered bank near the stream, where he deposited his burden. From the shrubbery near this cave—unseen— upheard by Omoski, a light form glided away with bowed head and heaving bosom. It was Minnibo! Poor child! At sight of her lover with the white maiden in his arms, she had resolved to think no more of the false man. Alas! Minniho was a simple forest-girl, whose love impulses were stronger than her ride, She had not learned the art of keeping vel feelings crushed, hidden, like flowers under stones. CHAPTER VII. ‘ THE OLD GUIDE’S RGE. AS may be imagined, Killb’ar’s falling back into the swamp when the Indians fired, was a 4
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> rr mere feint to deceive them with the idea that he had been hit. With his head hidden the marshy reed projecting on all sides of hy he drew himsel round the end of the log to the other side, hold- ing on by a half-decayed branch, projecting from the at part. He had hardly done this when a few of the Indian part hearty —she rest having, as shown, gone im pursuit 0 Omoski—clambered to the log and peered through the reeds. Not seeing anything of Killb’ar except his heels, which projeeted on this side of the log, they concluded that he had sunk, head down- ward, into the soft mire. Very willing they should think so, Killb’ar remained motionless, hardly daring to breathe and hoping that the red-men would not look on his side of the log. In fact the Indians, after a moment’s hurried consultation, seemed to con- clude to depart. They were about turning cla when an unlucky accident changed their PYThis w was the breaking of the branch by which Killb’ar supported himself, the snapping noise at once attracting the attention of the Savages, The hunter had caught a projection on the end of the log, by which he now kept himself from sinking into the soft mire, being stil] screened “oa sight by the broad reeds growing round From this ae through openings among the leaves, he could see his enemies pushing aside the grass to discover the source of the noise hea They could not see him, owing to his head being in the shadow, while he could plainly detect every movement of theirs. Suddenly one of them advanced so close to his position, that their two heads came almost into contact. The hunter nearly dislocated his neck, with the efforts he made to twist his head out of reach of the searcher’s keen eyes. A moment later the Indian turned his glances full upon Killb’ar, when the eyes of the two met. Killb’ar, apaecetving he was discovered, quietly thrust his d above the log, and in a voice somethin ng like a frog’s, thus addressed the astonished spectators: “Good-arternoon, gentlemen! This are a bad place for a Christi’n!’ ‘Ugh! quick kill!” exclaimed the Jadian, raising his tomahawk, *‘ Jist wait one minute, won’t yer, and give a- feller time to eat somethin’, Dyin g on an empty stomach are onpleasant’ fur a hoosier.” e Indian would not wait. Down came his tomahawk, striking with a dull crash—the log. Killb’ar, raising ‘himself, had knocked aside the descending arm. Then, springing upon the log, he pushed the red-man ba A into the swamp, and planting one foot upon his body leaped a distance of five feet to dry land, white te others were running toward him along the lo Tntortunately, his foot catching in some twisted grass, he fell prostrate. Before he could rise the Indians were upon him, their deadly weapons lifted. “Before you take my ha’r,” exclaimed the hunter, “Til unburden my mind to yer. Jist tell that chap Moscow, ef you ever see him—” The nearest Indian did not seem inclined to hear him finish the sentence. He was about striking when there was a scream, and a light form bounding from the thicket caught the descending arm so that the weapon just grazed the hunter’s temple. The Indians looked up with a grunt to behold standing in their midst the beautiful Minniho! “Thunder! you’ve saved my hfe, Injun beyooty. Nothin’ like this ever happened to me before, except one time, t’other side of the mountiins. Thar I fell cl’ar over a precipice one hundred feet high, and war about to hev my life destroyed by some wild hogs, when Suke Spoon cum along and druv the critters away with asaucepan.” Meanwhile the Indians cca da the girl several moments without speaking. The fame of her beayty having traveled far, all present at once receynized her. An alliance had lately been entered into be- tween Crees and Cherokees, therefore the former were inclined to hear with courteous deference the wishes of the Indian maiden. A brief conversation now ensued, and Kilib’ar knew that the girl was pleadin ne for bis life. He heard her say that he or ’ar) had once saved Omoski from death. Crees had all heard of Omoski, but many of them had never seen him, Those in pursuit of him had mistaken him for a Seminole on account of his beautiful garn. = on Killb’ar, the Guide, ‘‘Come,” said Minniho at length, motioning to Killb’ar, “white man free now; ‘it Cree see him afterward, he must die.” He followed the girl, who led him toward a preity, rove, There she paused and bowed her ead, sighing. “Tt is ubne Omoski is lost to his tribe. Lost to Minniho forever! He has turned again from the setting sun, 4) listen to the white bird.” ** Cheer up, thar’s time enuff yet. Ef I can find him, i iry powerful hard to lug him slog me a ’in, toward the quarters of the It ain’t sich a very long journey eee BYAR? ” added Killb’ar, as he wiped the mud from his rifle. “He will not hear you; the white girl has be- witched his heart. She spoke in a said oy her eyes fixed upon the stream rushing past. “‘Cheer up, I tell yer. Why, thar war a gal I once knowed, which war arter a chap about 4 size. She thort he war arter anothe er gal, en one day what does he do but jist comes to the gal’s house a-luggin’ the minister along by the ha’r of the head to marry him to the very gal that thort he warn’t arter her. Ker-whoop! didn’t she holler with joy? I war huntin’ forty miles off, and heerd the screechin’ the hull dis- tance, Arterwards she sent me a piece of the weddin’-cake, detached to the horn of a tame buffeler, which she had brought up as one of the family. “Omoski never come to Minniho!” murmured the girl, sadly. ‘She may sit in her lodge and sing all day, but she is only a black bird, and the eagle will not come, Go, white man, ZO. If see Omoski, tell that Minniho trouble him no more.” “What yer mean? sever yer mortal ties, I hope.” She answered not, but with asad wave of the hand and one glance of her black eyes, vanish- ed in *h~ * 3 woods. Kiliv'ar looked after her a moment, then shouldered his rifle and hurried toward the hill from which the Indian warrior had defended his charge. Discovering the trail, he followed it, and by night found himself opposite to the mossy re- treat in which the Indian had deposited Lucy. The young girl was now refusing to give any encouragement to the love of the warrior, who stood before her, asking her to fly with him to some distant retreat, far away, where neither white man nor Indian would’ be apt to molest them. He would give her the choicest deer- flesh for food, dress her in the prettiest skins, and bring her ple inty ot presents from the late ‘Hello thar? at yer doin’? Don’t feel ashamed, Moscow, to be caught a-ma in’ love to this gal, when thar’s a poor little clay- | colored critter of your own tribe a-bu’stin’ her | heart in two for yer. Ginger and merlasses!” added Killb’ar, throwing down his rifle from sheer vexation. “ Tt/s enuff to set a Christi’n to weepin’, to see how mankind is allers arter her as is the least declined to be arter him self.” “Whence came the white man? His foot is You are not goin’ to light. He stole upon us like a fallen star.” ‘“Blars and buffelers, Moscow! Now don’t yer insult me with any more of yer infarnal oultry. { ain’t a fallen star, but jist a plain fn jun and coon hunter, as can chaw his meat as well as any white or red-skin livin’. Come, will yer go now with me arter the Red B’ar?”’ The other, musing a moment, answered “cc Yes, ” “ First I must take this gal to the settlement,” said Killb’ar. ‘‘Meantime you’d better hunt up Minnie-hello, which war in the thicket be- hind dus, a moment since, and jist make up with her, tellin’ her you intend to go after the Red Bar, arter which you'll return and marry her, Then you may wait for mehyar. Il be back in good time.’ “It is well,” answered the Indian. Next morning he stood watching Killb’ar «us he led the girl away. When the two were nearly out of sight he turned and followed them at a distance. As they moved away, Lucy gave her hunter- friend an account of her adventures since the attack in the forest. She bad dashed awa upon her horse to the westward, had ridden all night, and at daylight had halted to think what she should do next, when several Indians sprung from the shrubbery near and pulled ber from the steed. The horse, frightened, dashed away, when one of the Indians, seizing her in bis arms made off with her as mentioned, probably in- pejacobii ee to conduct her to his camp and make a slave “Vou ve sltiint broel little gal!” said the hynter. 7 eS onpleasant sc s. I pity yer from the bot- tom ae cern and ope jer'll tind some one else to love,” “‘Speak not of that,” said Lucy, her tears streaming. ‘I can never, never love another!” “T war a brute tospeak so, Butl forgot that you are entirely different from the female hoosiers as I’ve seen. Many on ’em hey married six husbands. I know one who hev had four- teen, and is a-lookin’ forrard to the time when she kin gitanother! Suke Spoon, whatever her other bad qualities, is different. That critter is | faithful to only one, which one, unfortunately, are me!” Lucy was about to speak, when Killb’ar held Rs his finger to her as a signal of silence, and anced og A along the ground. He could iscover, by the ap rance of the leaves, the traces of some Indian party having reeentl passed that way. The fresh look of the tr at once convinced him that the y could not be more than a mile distant at the most, He therefore struck into anther route, which he hoped might, by a roundabout way, lead him to the settlement, without falling n with the savages. years had olaperd since his visit to the place, owever, that he anticipated no little trouble in finding it. Still he knew by the hill rocently passed that it could not be more than twenty miles distant. The bill was a good landmark, but whether the settlement lay to the south east or more to the eastward 0. it, he could not tell. Cautiously yet swift] keeping on, he finally came in sight of the so tlement, which consisted of about fort ree log. houses, a bloek-house, a school, a chure one : A ocery store, bar!” muttered Killb’ar, breathing a sigh of relief. ‘Hyar we are, your troubles all dis- my ated, my poor little gal! Thar’s a church ar yer can go and offer up thanksgivin’ ef yer like,” Lucy smiled =o “TI thank you much, sir,” she answered, “for “bisect kindness; but I am very sad, and would ave cared little had E lost my life on the way.” “You must not give way to sich feelin’s, my poor gal. Them’s called the blues, and thar war a time when I war troubled with the same. I jist. cured myself by takin’ a run to the top o’ the mount’ins, then jumpin’ c’lar down from a rock thirty foot high into a lake of cold water, after which I eat three pounds of buf- feler-meat, which cured me in a powerful short time. Thar’s nothin’ like exercise to take away bad feelin’s of all kinds. Thar war a peddler chap which cheated me once. | started arter him, trampin’ forty miles in as many minutes, When I got up to the peddler chap, the exercise had taken ibn all my bad feelin’s, so that arter jist knockin’ the feller down three or four times, I war ready to shake hands with him ef he hadn’t scooted!” By noon they had struck into a path leading straight toward a settlement. ‘To get there the two must first descend into a hollow, fringed with thick shrubbery. Killb’ar having reached this line of shrubbery, was about pushing it aside that Lucy might pass it first, when he suddenly paused, motioning the girl back. In the ollow, crouching down upon hands and knees, he beheld more than a hundred and fifty savages, all armed to the teeth! CHAPTER VIII. AN INSECURE ROOST. As Killb’ar gazed upon this unwelcome spec: tacle, he concluded to strike to the left with the girl, and endeavor, by making his way through the brush wood, to get round to the settlement. Knowing, however, that the Indians must have scouts stationed in that direction, he resolved to wait until night before making the attem jightly step Dak Sea the hunter thrust his ramrod in the grcund and listened intently with his ear Spies to the up »per end, ‘* Do you hear anything?” inquired Lucy. “Yes; thar are other Indians approaching: They will be upon us in a short time ef we keep on as we are a-going.” e struck to the eastward to give the valley and the pL abies savages a wide berth, but he had not proceeded far before haagain paused, once more using the ramrod, ‘*Bars and buffelers! thar’s skunks comin’ this way, too! We're surrounded |” “What shall we do?’ ‘We kin do nothin’,” answered the hunter, as he proceeded to strew a few leaves, so as to conceal the prints of Lucy’s and his tect upon the soft ground, “except to climb one of these po ic ” pointing at a stupendous, white-leafed the trunk of which was almost concealed oomed to get yourself into a good many | by enwreathing vines, while the branches above
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8 Killb’ar, the Guide, were osely interwoven as to form a screen Hke BigP ser dle “Kin yer climb?” Lucy blushed at this question, answering that she was not used to scmoig: | trees. “T mought hey known it. You eastern gals ain’t like our western_hoosier women, which kin climb bootifully! Now, fer instance, thar’s Suke Spoon, which kin go upa tree like a winged elephant.” o saying, the hunter proceeded to pull down some of the vines clinging to the tree. Having obtained several, ho soon constructed a rude ladder, by twisting and tying the twigs to- gether, He then climbed into a lofty branch, holding to the trailing ladder with his teéth, and fasten- edit to the limb. Then he descended, and keeping the ladder steady, requested the girl to aionaet, Lucy obeyed, and finally reached the branch in safety. illb’ar soon joined her, when, pulling up the ladder, he coiled it and se- cured it to a branch far up above his head. “This ere consarn,” he said, as he assisted the girl higher 4 into the midst of the natural screen- work, ‘‘ this are somethin’ like the ark of bulrushes spoken of in the Bible. You'll pass for the baby, Miss Lucy, and ef I war only of the female sect, the likeness would be almost parfect.” Lucy was unable to trace the resemblance, but she said nothing. Meanwhile Killb’ar, keeping a sharp look-out through the screen-work, soon beheld the fore- most of the Indian party approaching. They evidently were scouts from the larger party in the hollow. All, with the exception of five Cherokees, were Crees, looking hideous in their paint and fierce attire. As they moved along in single file t the tree, the hunter watched them keenly, see if they would discover the traces of him- self and Lucy, through the leaves on the ground. The Indians did not, however, perceive any thing to excite their suspicions, and moved str pant on toward the hollow. Suddenly, when they had all passed, Lucy be- held her companion turn pale and craw a long breath, What was the matter? What could happen to thus affect a man whom no danger hitherto had seemed capable of intimidating. ‘She watched in surprise the hunter who, taking out his handkerchief, wi big drops of perspir- ation from his forehea , while now and then ejaculating, almost under his breath: “ Thunder! ef it ain’t/ Yesitare! Ginger ,» and merlasses!—kin it be posserble! I mought hev knowed it! Phew! ker-whoop!” ‘*Hark!” said Lucy. “I think I hear a step approaching!” ‘You do/ yes, yerdo! I kin hear that ste thar forty miles off, and recornize it too! O thunder! Ob lightnin’! Thar’s mischief brewin’!” Soon after he spoke, another party of Indians appeared, having between them two prisoners, One was a tall man, so muffled up in a blanket that his face could not be seen; the other a woman, nearly five feet nine inches in hight. She wore a ffamin calico short-waisted robe, a head-dress something like an elevated night- cap, a pair of thick, heavy cowhide shoes, and carried, strapped to her back on a small knap- sack, a tin cup, a coffee-pot, and an iron tea- kettle. Her face wasrather of the masculine order, being broad in the region of destructive- ness, while cheeks were of a rough and ready crimson brown, betokening a bigh state of health. Although her arms were tied, and there was a flerce-looking savage on each side of her, yet she carried her head upright, with a fearless air, and marched as straight as a soldier. Killb’ar now trembled in every limb, watch- ing the female keenly until she had passed, when he whispered to Lucy: “Tt are her, sure enough! I’m sar’tin of that now. Oh thunderation! Oh ginger! Kin itbe possible it are, and yet I know it are! That ‘woman you saw, my little gal, are the one arter me, the hoosier female, Sukz Spoon!” ‘* A prisoner among the Indians?” ‘““Yes. Thar’s nothin’ like a woman’s devo- tion. That ’are have tramped it all the way from t’other side of the y Mountains, jist fur the sake of follerin’ one as can’t return her affeckshun!” herself into preat a f ily rath rr f ot beeen F I 3° wg ‘a 8 rom w, ‘I s’pose, as : try my best and ** Leave me and go to her,” said Lucy. “Wagh! Thunder! Ef Ido may Ibe shot! No, I’m afraid the poor critter will hev to lose her b’ar!” “Would you not be willing to die for one who loves you so? Why not leave meand attempt her rescue?” “JT kin never do that. Hello! Who hev we hyar?” A couple of half-breeds, with axes, were ap- proaching from the direction of the hollow. “They’re goin’ to fight on sign-terrific princi- ples, Miss Lucy. Goin’ to git batterin’-rams. ‘You kin jist believe that. Thar’s to be some tree-choppin’ to-day!” The half-breeds came within a few yards of the tree; then paused, glancing around them as if to determine which tocommence at. Finally chance would have it that they should chop at the one in which were seated Lucy and Killb’ar, for this, having the largest branches, was the best adapted to their purpose. “ Hyar we are in a kind of a scrape, my little gal!” whispered the hunter, I war in somethin’ sich a one by myself, years ago, when I war Injin’-huntin’ out in Kentucky. Jist as the tree war chopped down, though, thar came np a high wind, which, with the help of my buffeler- skin, sent me a-whizzin’ cl’ar over the top o’ the woods to t’other side.” The half-breeds having commenced at the tree, the ring of their axes drowned the sound of the hunter’s voice, ‘*What can we do now?’ inquired Lucy. ‘Here come more Indians, probably to help drag the tree to the hollow. “You're right. Ef ever head-work war re- quired, it are now!” eA jepor round him keenly. ‘*We will have to give ourselves up,” said Lucy. ‘There is no evil without the Rood. You will have the satisfaction of seeing Suke Spoon.” Killb’ar trembled. ‘*Phew! Thunder! Ef she once gets her claws on mé she'll hev satisfaction!” Crash! crack! bang! at the trunk of the tree. The axes were making quick work of it. Al- ready the tree began to tremble, “Tell go in two minutes,” said Killb’ar, ** We had better give ourselves up, then,” ‘‘No, Leastways, not while Suke Spoon are among the Injuns!” answered Killb’ar, again wiping his brow. Crash! crack! bang! bang! The tree tottered still more. Finally it gave evidences of going over in a few seconds. Killb’ar sprung to his feet. Two more blows must send the tree over. The blows were given. ‘Thar we go!” muttered the hunter. ‘‘Houtp ON HARD, Miss Lucy!” CHAPTER IX. A MAIDEN’S DEVOTION. OMOSKI, as mentioned, had followed behind Killb’ar and his companion. Through an opening in the trees, Minniho, after quitting Killb’ar, beheld, from a rock upon which she had seated herself, the tall form of her lover, far in the distance, speeding in the same direction as the hunter and the gir ‘* Omoski! Omoski!” The words came from her in a sad wail. Then she rose. ‘‘Once more Minniho will try. Already it is the sixth day since his departure. There is little hope,” She bounded after the Indian wanderer, and had nearly gained his side, when she bebeld, crouching in the shrubbery, a warrior of the Cree tribe, whose bow was bent, and whose arrow was pointed at Omoski. The man’s face was partly turned from her, yet she recognized him as Erigo. Bent upon vengeance, Erigo had a second time concluded to hunt for, and slay, his rival, the favored suitor of Minniho. He had searched for him long, and at last here be was, right before him. The girl, bent upon saving her lover, bounded forward like a deer, uttering a wild cry. But she was too late to arrest the sbaft, but not too late to receive it. Poor Minniho! The arrow struck her side, inflicting a severe wound. Over the blood-stained shaft she threw her mantle, so that when Omoski, hearing the noise, turned, he saw the Indian girl coming toward him, with no sign of pain upon her beautiful Ashamed to be caught thus in a covert attempt on his rival’s life, Erigo, dashing pat the girl ————— ee a ee eo eee ee confronted the young chief before she could reach him. ‘Dog, dist” he said, drawing his tomahawk. should the Cree and the Cherokee re cy Y inquired Omoski. ‘The hatchet is uried. ‘*Fight for Minniho! You have stolen her from Erigo!” : * Om does not want Minniho’s love!” ii Lie Pr’ The young warrior drew his tomahawk; a desperate fight seemed about to ensue, On ordinary occasions the Indian maiden would not have interfered. Now, however, the case was different. She was anxious that her lover should at least return to his tribe in time for the battle which was to take place, Therefore, throwing herself between the two, she, with flashing eyes, turned to the Cree, bidding him depart. ‘*Some other time the fight,” she said; “ not now. Go!” The Cree returned his tomahawk to his belt and with hate ‘rankling in his heart, turned away. Minnibo laid both bands on her lover's shoulder, and gazed sadly and reproachfully into his eyes. ** Omoski goes toward the east. The sixth day is come! ‘Yes! Omeski thinks no more of the Red Bear!” “The tribe will say he has turned coward,” said the girl, pressing her mantle closer over her wound, Fire came to Omoski’s eyes, Those of Minniho beamed gladly. She believed that she had at last roused his spirit. It was only for an instant. Again the eager glance softened. The white dove was in her lover’s mind. The girl sighed; then looked up, speaking beprectiaey,suarastann de ‘See! The sun reddens westward! Omoski might almost keep pace with it! In one day he niigee reach the Bear’s country!” gain the warrior’s eyes lighted; then his glance was turned eastward. Far away, through a vista in the woods, the forms of Lucy and Killb’ar were visible. Minniho, watching her lover’s countenance, saw it light up with the spell which the white maiden bad thrown over his heart. **Come!’’ she wailed, “come!” She caught his arm, and endeavored gently to urge him westward. He would not move, ** So, as a coward, Omoski would go back to his tribe!” she said, ‘“‘ What will Manitou do then? Will Omoski go to his fathers’ bunting- rounds when he dies? No, he will go to the dark place, where there is neither light nor oy! ’ THe cares not, so the white bird lights his wigwam and fills his heart with sweet sovnds!” ** Omoski!” said Minniho, solemnly, ‘‘ 7 had a dream! Omoski’s mother came to me from the grave! I saw her in the deep woods! She spoke twice! ‘Oh, Minniho!’ she said, ‘Omoski must go to the west! Glory and hono, on bis return! The greatest warrior of all tribes! There is a white bird with small eye which would turn him away! To follow the bird is death and dishonor! Let him not follow it, oh, Minniho!’” These words seemed to have the desired effect. Omoski had loved his mother dearly, and the dream had great influence over him, With delighted eyes, Minniho again beheld his face kindle. Suddeuly he straightened himself up. ‘*Omoski throws away the white bird’ spell. See! he is ready to seek the Bear!” The Indian girl clapped her hands—almost forgot her pain. ** Will Omoski go now?” ‘He will wait at the stream for the white hunter’s return. The hunter will guide him to the Bear before the morrow’s sun sball set,” “Tt is well! Ob, Minniho is glad!” She had so much confidence in her lover's rowess, that she doubted not he would come off he victor. They sought the stream, where, with a heavy sigh, Minnibo seated herself. Then, for the first time, Omoski perceived that she was wounded. His heart was touched by her noble fortitude, He pulled forth the arrow, washed the wound in the stream-water, and went forth b ep ag “ 4 appy Minniho! Bar heart throbbed wildly, her turned upon her lover, were full of a tenderness. and g glimp: steps \ when caugh pulle “ () more Th
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. a _ her bonnet, wit qsteps westward. He bad proceeded rete The sun had wheeled far toward the west, when Minniho sunk into a deep, refreshing shumber. Omoski sat watching her awhile, when again the bright beauty of the pale-face girl flitted athwart his vision. Obeying the impulse of his heart, he arose and glided away, resolving to get one more glimpse of Lucy Ward, before turning his foot- miles when through the shrubbery ahead of him, he caught a glimpse of female attire. is heart beat fast. “Tt is the white bird!” he muttered; “ why in the shrubbery? Is she asleep, or has she been slain?” With trembling steps he cautiously advanced. The dress of the female being in shadow, he _ could not detect the color, but his beart told him the person was Lucy Ward, Soon he gained the clump of shrubbery, and pulled it aside. ‘‘Omoski would seo the white dove once more!” he exclaimed. The moment he put aside the bushes he dis- covered that he had made a singular mistake. _Wedged between two rocks, sitting bolt up- right, her knapsack shining in the moonlight, its yellow strings, pushed de- fiantly from her tow-colored hair, a gridiron held firmly in one band and _the iron tea-pot in the other, was the female Suke Spoon, grimly em 2 watch and ward. Tbe Indians in the hollow had not maintained » 4 very close watch upon ber. She bad managed to untie her cords and make her escape while ‘heir backs were turned. Now they were in pursuit of ber. She bad run until she was too tired to go further, and then sunk down in her present position to rest, having distanced her pursuers by strides which no Indian could equal, Panting and glowing, she now turned her fierce eyes on Omoski. ‘Hoo! hoo! hoo! yer red scamp, to insult a defenseless woman! Get eout! get eout! Take | that, and don’t try to come yer cooin’ and billin’ D over Suke 8 ‘id As she spoke, she hurled the iron pot straight at the head of the Indian. He dodged it) and i eettaite her, shrugging bis shoulders with disgust. Ugh! ugh!” ae They’re ali crazy arter me!” continued Suke Spoon, jumping up and striking a defiant atti- tude; “ batT'l never be the wife of any Injun, livin’ or dead! So thar now!” “No want wife! How come here?” | “That’s none of yer bizness, Injun! You'd vetter keep yer distance,” she added, flourish- ing the gridiron, ‘‘ for I sw’ar I won’t be taken alive!” As she spoke, the footsteps of her pursuers were heard not far off. “ Hyar they come—all arter me! Well, I al- ways war a favy’rite with the male sect. Look ay - he st th Ik saying, she step upon the rock, sprung strai he arer the Indian’s head, and went crash- ing through the shrubbery. moski gazed after her a moment, and then crouched down among the bushes, waiting for the pursuing Indians to bim. “Funny woman,” he muttered, when the had gone, with every show of disgust. ‘ Thin all men in love with her. Ugh! make great thistake!” CHAPTER X. OLD SUKE’S CAVALIER. | Wuen Luey Ward felt the tree going over, she clung closely to the branch, expecting every moment to be dashed to pieces below. Down went the tree, further and further! She closed her eyes, offered up a silent prayer, and nerved herself to meet her fate! All at once she felt the tree thump against something, and then 8 he opened ber eyes, to see Killb’ar grinning from ear to ear, pressing hard against the trunk near the branch where he s ! It was the pressure of bis weight which had *aused the tree, instead of swaying toward the ground, to incline toward another, several yards distant, and against which it had struck and was now so firmly braced that many men Must be required to move it. The Indians turned away and sought the hol- low, evidently to obtain assistance. ,' That war a good trick of mine!” said Kill- bar; “but not a sarcumstance to ene which I perpetrated t’other side of the mount'ins. njuns bein’ arter me on that oceasion, I jist Jumped from one tree to another w. was Killb’ar, the Guide. fifty yards off! It war a flyin’ leap, and so amazed the Injuns that they throwed themselves right down on their bellies and began a-callin’ on their Man-toe!” ‘“‘Had we not better go down and escape from here before they come back?’ ‘“Jist wait one minute!” gasped Killb’ar, trembling and clutching his branch. As he — he ga in the direction of the hollow, whence, with a crash like an elephant’s, Suke Spoon suddenly was seen to emerge, flee- ing from the savages. he latter, not wishing to alarm the settle- ment, made no noise as they ran in pursuit; but the fugitive was not so careful. ‘* Yer pesky heathens!” she screamed ; *‘ you’re all arter me, but yer won’t hev me, seein’ as I’m leedged, buddy and soul, to Crockery, as bas rifled with my affeckshuns!” Suke Spoon’s notion that the Indians wanted her for their squaw, had been excited by the earnest glances turned on ber by more than one old savage after her capture, together with the fact that no violence bad been offered her, The Indians, as will be seen, had for this rea- a of their own, not at all founded on affec- tion. Many cases of Indians falling in love with white _— had recently occurred, and having a high idea of her own charms, Suke was pleased to rank herself among the list of persecuted maidens, Away she went, her bonnet-strings flying, making straight for the tree in which were seated tanh and Killb’ar. Just as she arrived beneath it, the foremost of her pursuers was within seven feet of her, She, however, must have easily escaped him, when her toes caught against a root, and down she went, her heels fiying up. At this, Killb’ar fairly gasped for breath. Nevertheless his gallantry was excited. ‘*She sart’inly are a woman!” he whispered to Lucy, ‘and it are my duty to do something for her!” ‘ ‘What can you do?” Killb’ar quietly pulled bis long hunting-knife from his belt, and watched the foremost Indian as a cat watches a mouse. The fellow was a hundred yards ahead of his companions, screened from their sight by the interposing brushwood betwen the hollow and the tree. Waiting until he was almost under him, Killb’ar, suddenly holding with each band his knife by the handle and the point, dex- terously sent. it spinning downward, so that it was buried to the hilt in the throat of the savage. As he had predicted, the Indian, with a wild cry, seized the knife, and pulling it out, hurled it wnoe from him before he sunk dead upon the round, ; The amazement of the other savages when they arrived upon the spot to find their com- panion with a knife-wound in his throat and no rson to be seen near him, may be imagined. fe eke the delay consequent upon this discovery that enabled Suke Spoon to get so far ahead, as shown, of her savage pursuers, Having waited until after the Indians had vanished from his sight, Killb’ar concluded to descend to regain bis knife. The maneuver was quickly performed, but just as Killb’ar was gliding into the screenwork, his quick eye de- tected the heads of several savages ae above the sides of the hollow, and he knew that he was discovered. To remain must insure the capture of Lucy as well as of himself; to flee would enable bim to draw the Indians away from the tree, and per-’ =e afterward to render her assistance. e, therefore, chose the latter alternative, thus giving his enemies the idea that he was tho only person in the tree. . aving hastily communicated his intention to Lucy, he descended and made straight for the woods, the Indians following in swift pursuit. Kil!b’ar, determined to keep as near the tree as possible, plunged into a creek in his path and swam under the intertwisted roots of a tree, rojecting over the water, and in the partial wilight forming a perfectscreen. The savages reaching the bank of the creek, an‘ there losing the trail, wandered at fault up and down the banks. Several times they passed so near the hunter that he could almost touch them. Fi- nally, as darkness began gather, the bank was deserted. Killb’ar was too experienced a hunter to venture forth yet. He waited an hour, cat-like watching the tree in which Luc sat and which as yet not been disturbed. He could see its topmost branches and part of the trunk through an opening in the woods. °Ss last be cautiously smerged from the creek. wee As he did so, a dark figure rose between him — and the moon! ‘Yer infarnal skunk!” And up went his knife. “Ugh! Don’t know?” The moon fell upon the Indian's face, reveal- ing the features of Omoski! ‘Where is the white bird?” Killb’ar instantly explained. ‘*Must try save. ere are clouds on the white girl’s spirit. Must not let more come,” ‘*T agree with yer parfectly. I must try to got that gal to the settlement. Ef you go with me I kin doit. Your tribe, some of whom I see among a lot of Injuns in the bollow, will not harm the gal ef you say so. Still we must try to avoid ’em ef we kin!” ‘* Have to go long way round.” “That iad eact ays ‘*‘ Hope not see Yellow-string. Ugh!” ‘* Who in thunder are that! “Don’t know! Red hair! big nose! fight— pot—grid-grid-grid—whbat you call!” “Gridiron! Ginger and merlasses! yer meas that woman Suke Spoon! Hev yerseen her! oe es. And Omoski briefly explained. The moon was pow hidden by clouds. **Come,” said Killb’ar, creeping caw toward the tree, ‘Come! now is yer time!” Gaining the foot of the tree, he whispered te Lucy to come down. She did so, easily making ber way down tha inclined trunk. ‘*The white bird,” murmured Omoski, ‘softly. “Come, none of yer poultry, now, Moscow!" whispered Killb’ar. ‘ Thunder! we're seen !* Crack! whiz! whiz! whiz! went a shower of arrows from the edge of the bollow. Soon, however, the hunter discovered that he had made a mistake. The arrows were not dis- charged at the three, but at a male prisoner, who had just escaped from his dusky captors, and was speeding along toward the woods, This person Killb’ar recognized by his gray blanket as the same Ne we previously seen passing the tree in which were concealed the unter and his fair companion, The eyes of the Indians being fixed the fugitive, who fled in the direction at right angles with our friends, the red-men did not notice the hunter or his two companions, who now wers in deep shadow. The latter, crouching in sbrubbery, waited until the noises of the pursuit had away, before they ventured to proceed. They had not gone far, when several Indians being dis- covered in the distance, showed that the savag had not yet given up the idea of finding Killb’ar, as the dusky guard were evidently watching for bim. The three, therefore, carefully made a wide detour, so as to get round the Indians’ unob- served, _ Meanwhile the fugitive mentioned was speed- ing on with all his strength. He was a tall, well-made fellow, clad in tattered trowsers a‘ ny besides the blanket he wore, and which e bad thrown over his shoulders so as to give freer play to bis limbs. His face, however, was singular-looking, containing, here and there, a black patch, which gave it a hideous, semi- savage appearance. That the man had broken the thongs with which his wrists were tied, was plain from the fragments dangling therefrom; that be had succeeded in doing so was not re- markable, with such tremendous breadth of shoulders and breast as he exhibited. On he went, taking great leaps as he ceeded, until be came unexpectedly to the edge of a gully, into which he stumbled, rolling down the side like a ball, He was about rising to rush up the other side and keep on, when suddenly, a hand caught him by the shoulder, “*Come in hyar, yer poor mortul! But don't yer try to make luve ter me, fur I won’t stand any sich nonsense, my affeckshuns bein’ pre-en- gaged to Crockery!” Almost by main strength, Suke 8 . for it was none other than she, hauled the fugitive into a large earth-cave, concealed by lon bunches of drooping grass. Over this a riva trickling from above, washed away all tracee of any person venturing near this retreat. A moment after entering the hollow, the fugitive could hear the Indians as they < the cave, evidently at a Joss to determine what — had become of the runaway. Having waited until she thought the saveges had quitted the gully, Suke Spoon, with a half subdued ahem, recommenced converssfion. “So yoa got away, too! I’m pelt; glud of / “
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10 Killb’ar, the Guide. it; I gived the rascals a run of it which I think will make em remember Suke Spoon to their dyin’ day. I jist runned until I war tired, when dewn I rolled in this ’ere gully, to find a snug little holler hyar, all ready fur me. I hev been hyar some hours, and war a-thinkin’ of leavin’ when I heerd you rell imto the gully and jist — through the grass, I parceived by yer white and black face that yer war my feller-pris’ner. How did yer escape?’ “The Indians were a few yards off, with their backs turned to me, when, haviug already weakened my bonds, by sawing them across a stone, I broke them and made off!” *“ Well, I do wish I war safe at the settlement, as it’s thar I’m in hopes o’ findin’ the person ’m arter,” As she spoke, Suke’s eyes gleamed fire, and she shook the gridiron, to which she had held Meg h her ieatiar most gg eet ging your pardon, madam, I should not like $0 be that person!” ‘*Hoo! hoo! No love-makin’, I tell yer!” ‘7 had no such intention, upon my word!” * Well! well! Thar seemed to be admiration in yer eyes, at any rate. Jist keep yer sheep’s glances to yerself, young hoss!” The stranger bowed acquiescence, and at once turned his eyes away. Suke, with ber gridiron held on high, her huge bonnet pushed back from her red and masculine face, certainly was not a very attractive ob- t. An hour had passed, when a step was heard near the hollow. The stranger, notwithstanding his semi-savage face, now showed gallantry. “Give me that implement, madam!” he said, attempting to take the girdiron. ‘I will de- fend you, as wellas I can! It is evident our retreat is discovered!” ‘* Hands off!” whispered Suke, sternly, ‘‘and don’t yer git up quite so close tome! I ain't to be flatte L kin tell yer. As tomy girdiron, that ‘are shall not quit Suke Spoon’s grip, while thar’s an enemy around!” Nearer came the step. ‘Tt is a female’s,” remarked the stranger. Both listening intently, heard the step draw nearer. Finally, with her back to tke cave, her soft, sad face turned upward, Minniho, the belle of the Cherokees, seated herself upon the “‘Omoski! Omoski!” she moaned, and every time she uttered that name, she would rock her- self to and fro. stranger, much impressed by her evi- dent distress, ventured forth. ‘*Ha! who this?” she inquired, starting up. The other having glanced carelessly round the moonlighted shrubbery, to assure himself that no Indians were near, answered in a low voice: “Tt ee not, my poor girl! But what ou « Gmoski one! Leave Minniho, while asleep, and much hurt,” laying her hand on her ide. ‘‘ Wake up, see moonlight and hear birds sing very glad! Minniho not glad! oh no! Omoski! Omoski!” ‘‘ He was your lover?” ‘¢ Me love much. He love, until white bird rome and sing to him!” “The white bird?” ‘Yes, white-faee girl! Me look all round for a but not find! Follow white bird all time! She shook her head sadly: then, as if not car- ing to be questioned further, rose and moved “She are sart’inly a silly little goose!” re- marked Suke Spoon. ‘‘ Why don’t she jist tar and feather the muskrat, as she called him! ~™ Don’t yer think this ‘ere a roost (ruse) to find out whar we are?” eS did not think of that; her grief seemed so As, > “T, fer one, will quit this place,” cried the fe- hoosi: er. And shouldering her knapsack, with the pot and gridiron attached, she left the hollow. “ Are yer comin’ with me, white-and-black?” “In all gallantry Iam bound todo so, mad- d yer gallantry! “I eatery go with you, certainly, if you do “Thar is impudence!” eried Suke — “wish it! Hoo! hoo! hoo! Ef it wasn’t fer hardshi pmo an the Injuns, I’'d pull your h’ar fer a - So saying she disappeared into the deep shadows of the gully, leaving the other to his own meditations. “Tt will be impossible for me to reach the settlement,” he thought; ‘‘the passes are all guarded. What then?’ Glancing up, be beheld what he had been watching at intervals ‘fer several minutes; a red glare upon the sky over the top of the a in the distance. This could not be from an Indian camp-fire—the reflection being too broad and brilliant. The red-man uses more caution in war-time. “‘T have it,” ejaculated the watcber; ‘ that fire must come from some of General Jackson’s cavalry, encamped in the woods. The settle- ment will be attacked at daylight. Ah! if I can only reach the troops in time to bring them to assist those in the little garrison!” The speaker was worn and weary with the he bad undergone. Nevertheless he nerved himself for bis task.. “‘Now, then: I wILu bring the troops or die in the attempt!” So saying, he dove into the shrubbery, and hurried swiftly and cautiously ater toward the distant light. Soon his pace slackened; a wound, received in the hip when he was first captured by the Indians, now gave him con- siderable trouble. He could hardly drag him- self along. Finally, down he went upon one knee. With resolute effort he rose and stag- gered on—then down again! Thus, alternately rising and falling, this man urged his way determinedly, through the dark woods! CHAPTER XI. THE GARRISON STRUGGLE. ‘‘ Hist!” muttered Killb’ar, ‘thar be skunks right ahead!” As he spoke an arrow whizzed past his tem- ple, followed by four Indians, who rushed upon he little party with tomahawks uplifted. “Ib may be all up with us!” exclaimed the hunter, ‘‘and then ag’in it may not!” So saying, he pointed his rifle at the fore- most Indian, waiting, however, the result of Omoski’s interference, for the Indian had risen and confronted the others, his eagle eye flash- ing on them through the darkness. They were, however, of the Cree tribe, and Erigo unfortu- nately was among them, having joined them after the ineffectual attempt upon Omoski's life. This fellow, recognizing the young chief, at once flung bis tomahawk at his head. The weapon just missed the young warrior, who, dodging it, threw himself upon the Cree. While the two were struggling, Killb’ar was not idle. Crash! went his piece, and one of the Indians springing straight up in the air, with a hollow — fell upon his back, shot through the eart, Placing himself in front of Lucy, the hunter — is rifle and stood ready to fight to the ast. “Yer infarnal skunks! Kin yer have the heart to attack two unfortunates like this ’ere girl and me, which has had sich a hard time of it? Thar’s no use in preachin’ to sich on- christ’in rascals!” The Indians, of course, were not at all af- fected by this appeal to their benevolence. The three rushed upon Killb’ar, who, how- ever, nimbly leaping to one side, drawing the girl after him, with his other hand dexterously wheeling his rifle round his head in a circle, brought the stock down upon the head of one of the natives with a force which knocked him senseless to the earth. The other two now sprung with savage grunts upon the white man. One caught bim by the throat, and while he was engaged ina desperate struggle with this fellow, the other, drawing his knife, would have driven it between his shoulders if a rifle, fired at this instant from an unexpected source, had not stretched the red-man lifeless upon the ground with a bullet through his brain! At the same moment Omoski, having driven his knife to the heart of the Cree, rose to his eet. , Killb’ar, by a peculiar movement, had sent the native with whom he was contending, head-foremost across his hip, when from the shrubbery burst forth Lucy’s uncle, with others of the party who had set out from the settle- ment. ’ “This meetin’,” said Killb’ar, as he shook hands with Lucy’s uncle, ‘‘are sart’inly onex- pected. It puts me in‘mind of when I war out ee sapesepesnsijinn <aicipeen ee ee en ea ante or the piste. ik Tet jist wo ad y In en, gettin’ despr con- cluded to holler. I raised my veice cl’ar up te the sky, and hollered like a brass cannon. I war beard thirty miles off, and war rescued by twenty hoosiers, which comed that distance to my assistance!” i eanwhile, before he could be captured, the Indian, thrown by Killb’ar, bad risen to his feet, and was now speeding away like the wind. ‘\'We had better make for the settlement at ouce,” oe Lucy’s uncle. ‘‘ We will fight our way thither, if necessary.” Cautiously but swiftly proceeding, the party, meeting with no further resistance, arrived in the settlement a little after midnight, and at once informed the little garrison in cbarge of the block-house, of the meditated attack. As soon as possible, every available man was in the block-house, armed with such weapons as be could procure, while women and children were all huddled together behind those who were to do the fighting. Meanwhile, many glances were turned to- ward Omoski, who stood apart from the others, watching with indifference the preparations for the combat. ‘‘Whom have we heref’ inquired Captain Bloomfield, of the garrison. ‘An Injun friend of mine, Cap,” remarked Killb’ar. “Ts he going to help us?” * Omoski not help white man fight,” answered. the young warrlor, with quiet dignity. ‘* Why are you here, then?” ‘¢Omoski has his reasons,” was the re Iv. ‘* He are in love!” exclaimed Killb’ar, bluntly. “It are parfectly astonishin’, the effects of love on them as has tender hearts, When I war more youtbful, I tramped it a hundred and fifty miles, jist ter see a little half-breed critter, ter which [had taken a ape & drink a gallon of whisky, on a wager with a big Indiana hoosier! Let me see, Moscow, it are too late, now, fer yer to find the Red B’arand get his scalp?” ‘¢-Yes; Omoski soon go back to die!” A whispered consultation now was held among the settlers, when it was resolved to arrest the young Indian and keep fare. over him, that he might do no harm. illb’ar re- see. the measure, but was overruled by the others, Just at break of wed the sentry of the garri- son discovered, by the swaying of the bushes several hundred yards in front of the building, the approach of the enemy, and gave the m. The men in the garrison, numbering about sixty stalwart fellows, were instantly stationed at the loopholes, with their weapons ready. ‘“‘Hyar they come!” cried Killb’ar, as the savages, numbering at least two hundred, and composed of Crees and Cherokees, sprung up, yelling like demons, and rushed tow the gate of the garrison. Above this gate, to a jutting beam of wood, spanng Killb’ar, half a dozen of the men following him, after obtain- ing consent of Captain Bloomfield. On came the savages, until within fifty yards of the block-house, when the word fire was given. There was a crash, and twenty red- men tumbled to the ground. 3 Over the fallen ones, however, rushed the others, making straight for the gate, ‘Now, then!” exclaimed Killb’ar, ‘‘ we are at the post of honor, and let us see what we kin do with them skunks, Ef yer take good aim,” continued the hunter, heedless of the showers of arrows and bullets whistling around him and his little band, ‘‘ we kin each drop our man.” The rifles were lifted and discharged with good effect. Half a dozen of the foremost In- dians tumbled toearth. One gigantic savage had succeeded in reaching the gate, with a small battering-ram, evidently made from a part of the tree chopped down in the woods, and com- menced pounding away at it with great force, while his comrades hurried to assist him. They paused, however, as another volley was poured from the garrison. At the same moment Killb’ar sprung from the top of the gate to the earth, a distance of fifteen feet, and closed with the savage batter- ing at the gate. ‘You infarnal skunk, yer days are number- ed!” he exclaimed, as, dodging a blow from the tomahawk, he drove his knife to the hilt in the red-man’s breast. Killb’ar’s situation now was perilous in the extreme. There seemed no way for him to clamber back. With the exception of a spike in the gate, about ten feet above the ground, the wood-work was perfectly. smooth. » ‘Keep yer places 1” exclaimed the hunter, coolly, to some men who were about jumping
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a | 6 Ps $3 .e a down to his assistance from above, ‘ Yer'll all be needed thar whar you are, before long. Yer kin helieve that /” So saying, not seeming to mind bullets or arrows any more than if they were so many peas, Killb’ar drove his knife firmly into the wood-work about the hight of his knee. Then, with a nimble spring, he placed his right foot upon, it, thus being enabled to reach with his hand the spike above his head. Grasping this firmly, he drew himself near enough to the top of the gate to be drawn up by several men, who caught him under the shoulder. ‘“‘ A narrow escape!” cried several. “Not a sarcumstance to a narrerer which I met with once t’other side of the mount’ins. I war thar fightin’ with an Injun, when anuther gt behind me, and war about to plunge his nife in my buddy, when, my steam bein’ up to the b’ilin’ p’int, my own knife jist jumped out of my belt and walked rightinto thestomach | of t/other skunk! That war the last of him, arter which I licked the other Injun so bad that he run away asif his Man-toe war arter him!” By this time Captain Bloomfield had suc- ceeded in getting a couple of old nine-pounders, well loaded with slugs, to the top of the inclosure, seeing which, the savages came to a sudden halt. : Bloomfield was about giving orders to fire, when an object which did not fail of arousing much interest and excitement, suddenly came upon the scene, It was none other than SuKE Spoon! u Yes, she had been recaptured by the Indians, and was now to be used as a go-between, to prevent the white men’s firing on their enemies. Notwithstanding the peril of her situation, there was no sign of fear in the face of daunt- less Suke! There she stood, gazing balf-de- fiantly toward the Gerriens, her bonnet thrown back, her gray, catlike eyes flashing lightning, her long gown rustling in the wind. “See hyar!’-she shrieked, ‘‘ you in the garri- son! Fire away! This are a female hoosier, whieb aven’t afraid of gunpowder, nor nothing a" Never mind ef yer bullets do riddle me; ae” She suddenly paused, catching a glimpse of the familiar form of Killb’ar upon the top of the gate, Previously cool and. self-possessed, this man now showed signs of trepidation, and half- turned as if to rush back into the garrison. ‘Hoo! hoo! hoo! Thar ye are, the one I’ve secked so long. You've trifled with my affeck- shuns, built upon the halter of this buzzum! How kin yer hev the face to stand thar right before me arter all that?” . As she spoke, she rushed toward the gate, but was caught and forced back by the Indians before she had taken ten steps. “Thar, thar! I’m a pars’cuted feminine, sar- tinly! Ob! what kin equivalent the, female heart when torn by divarsity and falsehood! lll hev satisfaction! I must hey satisfaction! Pll pull his ba’r all out of his head!” She, with a powerful effort, broke from those who held her, and flourished her gridiron. Soon, however, she was agai: seized. Captain Bloomfield was troubled and per- plexed. The Indians now began pouring showers of arrows and discharges of riflery upon the block-house, So well aimed were the missiles, that three of | his best men were badly wounded, and one man killed outright, an arrow having passed through the loop-hole by which he was stationed and penetrated his eye, passing into bis brain. Wita a wild scream he fell dead upon his back, his glazed eyes turned upward, bis form quivering in the agonies of death. It was a sad sight to see the mother and sister of the dying | man rush to his side and gaze upon his writbing features. They knelt by him, wound their arms : round him, showering kisses upon his pale lips, his forehead and his eyelids, and wildly calling | upon his name, as if they thought that could retin the fading spark of life « few moments longer. e poor fellow breathed but three words be- fore be lay eold before the loviug twain. Evan then, bis mother, with her gray hair streaming all round his faee, wildly called upon his name. It seemed as if she could not realize that he was really dead—lost to ber forever! The poor feilow, a fiee healthy young man when he entered the bleck-house, had, a few days previously, proposed to a young girl, who had promised to become bis wife in a week. This gir! was in the rear of the block-house, where several of her sex were gathered, tending. the wounded, when the sad news of ber lover’s fate was brought to her. Killb’ar, the Guide. She was a tall, queenly lass, whose upright carriage and flashing black eyes betokened a high spirit, which was evinced the moment she received the dreaded tidings. Up she sprung, her whole frame quivering with excitement, her cheeks flushed, = nostrils dilating, her eyes | gleaming fire! ‘* Dead! dead!” she shrieked; ‘‘ ah, no! surely ; you do not mean this! Oh, my God! if it be | true—if it be true, the red-men shall pay dearly for the deed!” So saying, she clinched her white teeth, and with a few bounds cleared the space between | the rear of the block-house and her lover’s body, Over that dead form she kneeled, bestowed several kisses upon the cold lips, then, grasping oP vee her lover had dropped, proceeded to | oad it, “*T will pay the red-men for this!” she cried, in a low, hoarse voice—* yes, I will pay them for it!” Having loaded the piece, she took careful aim, and firing, sent an Indian sprawling dead upon his face. She was about loading again, when Captain Bloomfield, with several men, led her away. Unfortunately the cunning Indians had now formed in double file, so that no shot could be fired from the garrison without a chance of hit- ting Suke Spoon. Yelling,exulting at the ces- sation of the settlers’ fire, the red-men came on, still keeping the te!l female prisoner in advance, rushing toward the gate. ‘ Meanwhile, not a settler dared to. discharge a piece, from fear of his bullet’s striking Suke oon. In this dilemma, Killb’ar suddenly recovered his usual coolness, Having reloaded his rifle, he commenced firing in such a dextrous man- = as to hit the Sadéans over the head of C. ‘**Ob! Crockery, yer deceiver!” screamed the excited female, shaking her gridiron at the hunter; ‘‘suppose one of yer shots should t’ar | this lacerated speerit! Hoo! hoo! Ef lonce git my bands on yer, I'll make every ha’r stick straight up!” The sweat came out on the hunter’s brow. It was plain that he was not indifferent to Suke’s remarks. “She are sartinly a Tartar,” he remarked; “thar are somethin’ about her which to me are terrific and perkooliarly mortifyin’. Her voice are not the sweetest, bein’ somethin’ like an ; owl’s, while her eyes are like soap-bubbles, I always war afraid of sich when in the heads of the female sect, and I don’t like to git in front of ’em, when it’s possible to help it.” “Oh, ef I git hold of yer, I'll make yer squarm, Thar’ll be no cure for the baldness which I shall Jeave upon yer head. To think that I tramped it.all the way from t’other side of the mountains to see yer, goin’ through sich dangers as mought have appalled any delikit female of my natur’, and yet that yer don’t de- | preciate me in the least! Thar’s no hope for vale women in this mundun sphere, and it’s fer my wrongs that I intend to conflict chastise- ment upon yer!” ‘“What have you done to this woman?” in- quired one of the men, turning to the guide,’ “Nuthing except what any honest fellow mought have dove. I hev a wife of my own, you see, but durin’ my huntin’ and trappin’ ex- cursions, before I married the one I speak of, I met Suke Spoon one mornin’ a-hoein’ pertaties in her garden, As she looked up, I bid her | good-day, and jist asked fur a drink of water, Arter that I sat down and she began a-chattin’ to me. Then her dad come out and began a-chattin’, too. He talked a long time, then invited me in, which I didn’t refuse. ; “That was the way our acquaintance com- menced, Suke’s dad invited me to call often, and I promised I would. Arter that, on one occasion, I saved the life of Suke from an Injun, which war about to take her ba’r. The Injun had bis tomahawk up to strike her, when I jist | druv my fist down his throat, and at the same time gave him a powerful knock with the other fist, which war a settler. He lay still a minnit until jist as I war a-pullin’ out my knife, when he jumped up and scampered off, makin’ big licks. From that moment Suke seemed to think I was serious in my intentions upon her, and thar, you see, war the cause of the many parse- cutions to which I hev been subject, since I married another.” As Killb’ar spoke he lifted bis rifle and took good aim at a tall savage who had laid bis hand on Suke’s shoulder, probably with the intention of silencing her tongue, which was still sending which she gived me. volley after volley at the hunter. il Oe eee ee cee ee nee The report of the hunter’s piece now rung out sharply upon the air, but the Indian had seen the weapon as it was pointed at hina, and, dodg- ing just as the guide pulled the trigger, he avoided tke bullet, which, however, struck his scalp-lock, carrying it clean from his head as if it had been shaved off. “Ugh!” grunted Omoski, who, from the in- terior of the block-house, was a spectator of this shot, ‘* white man good fire; never saw fire be- fore like that!” “Tf it had beem his head that went off, it would have been better—eh, Injun?” remarked one of the settlers, Omoski’s eyes flashed fire, but he said not a word, It was evident, however, that had his hands been free, he would have braimed the speaker, ‘*‘T never war afraid of mortal man, exceptin’ Sue, that she.devil thar!” muttered Kilib’ar, as he aimed his rifle for another shot. Ban~! went the piece, and with a scream that pierced all ears, ringing clearly above the yells of the savages, down went Suke Spoon, her hand upon her heart! ‘You've done it now!” said one of the settlers. ““She’s a gone case! I knowed you couldn’t Beeb. p such firing as that long without hitting er Killb’ar, however, coolly firing another shot, seemed perfectly indifferent as to the catas- trophe which had happened. The only remark he was heard to make was this: “Well, Suke had her good parts, although she war different from most wimmen in re- specks!” Over the body of the fallen one natives, making a simultaneous das the block-house, Captain Bloomfield now ordered the gunners to meg the two pieces of artillery, All were confident that these would at least hold the savages in check, if they did not scatter them, The gunners applied their torches at the command to fire. There was a hissing sound; a cloud of smoke rose from the vent-holes, but — the pieces would not go off! The powder was damaged! The screams of the rege grew louder, A large body of them, rushing at the gate, now forced it open, in spite of all efforts to dislodge em. oN The women in the garrison screamed. Their defenders plied their muskets vigorously, but it was evident that the savages pouring yen So the gate, would soon be upon them, and 8 all victims to a merciless slaughter. Foremost among those who defended the block-house was Killb’ar. One moment firing, the next using his knife to great advantage, the hunter, beedless alike of bullets, arrows, and tomabawks, conducted himself in a manner which, in spite of their great peril, excited the wonder and admiration of all present. At one time the brave fellow found himself attacked at once by four Indians. He retreated a couple of paces, and as the foremost two of his adversaries made a dash at him, he threw out a leg, tripping one over, while, with his clubbed rifle, he laid another dead at his feet. To run his knife through the throat of the other, as he was rising, was the work of a moment, after which he again wielded his piece, knock- ing senseless another savage, ow the others pressed him close, One burled his tomahawk, which, however, the hunter dodged with marvelous celerity, and then dashing suddenly forward, drove the stock o his rifle against the stomach of the fellow, thus knocking him down upon his back, Meanwhile, one of the savages had come up behind him, and in a second it would have been all over with him, but for the stout-bearted settler git who had lost her lover, and who now, taking Ss aim, sent a bullet through the brain of the Indian. Now Killb’ar, dashing at { ie other, gr him by the throat, and dova went the two, rolling over and over in a desperate struggle. The Indian was a stalwart fellow, greatly ex- ceeding his adversary in size, but the guide made he for this by superior agility and skili. Trained to Indian fighting, he knew evary wile and stratagem connected with this sort of com. bat, and was not slow to take advastage of it. By this time the twe were a little apart from the others, so that the hunter had the red-man all to himself. He waited until the Indian had é ee bio ie = getting i of his (Kill- ar’s) clutch, when, having pur rmitted this, he raised his knee mort to bletc dealt the savage a kick tn the breast, which sent him rolling over and over, bewildered and alt rung the toward
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ie LE a with the de, the work of a single instant. The next he was upon the prostrate man with his knife lbunled tc the hilt in the fellow’s bosom! A moment after he was among the settlers, Sabting with might and mein. * Welt done! well done!” sounded on all sides, as the brave yw ge placing himself at the head of a party of the stoutest settlers, dashed at the Indians with an impetuesity which caused them to retreat Leceeard, Soon, however, the little band of whites was forced back, and with yells of exultation the Indians, like a dark mass of fiends, were about pouring into the block-house, when a crash as ef thunder was heard without. The air was filled with flying bullets, the tramp of horses’ hoofs, the clanging of sabers, the shouts of offi- cers and cheers of men were heard. “Thunder!” exclaimed Killb’ar, springing ver the body of a savage whom he had dashed wn with the butt of his rifle, ‘“‘ef it ain’t Jackson’s cavalry !” CHAPTER XII. A TRIPLE REUNION. He was right. The wounded messenger had with much difficulty contrived to reach the cavalry camp in the woods and bring troops to the assistance of the settlers at a very crifical moment. Dashing upon the savages, the !}o~ «4». full three hundred in number, soon sent .co iudians scamperiag off in al! directions. As they retreated, such of the cavalrymen as were not pursuing sprung from their horses and were shaking hands with those whom they had #0 opportunely rescued. ** Well done, lads!” exclaimed Captain Bloom- _ fleld; ‘‘a thousand thanks to you and your gal- lant commander.” No sooner had the Indians quitted the field than the gigantic form of Suke Spoon was sud- denly seen tc rise up and confront one or two astonished cavalrymen, who were in thie rear. She rose, and folding her arms over her chest, stood quietly surveying the astonished horse- . men, one of whom at once reined in his steed, “T could have sworn I saw you lying on the field when we first made our charge upon the Indians!” exclaimed the man. “So you did—so I war; but I’ve risen like Lazerum, to take revenge on Crockery, the oe the introducer of woman’s kind affeck- uns! - ‘Ho! hol he! My dear girl, what are you talking about?” * Don’t dear me, yer lynx-eyed young hoss! LT ain’t to be geared by your sect with impor- tunity! So jist git out of the way! I warnt dead; jist pretendin’, that’s all, so that the anes might fire!” o saying, she ran across the field into the block house, ““ Hyar yer are! Of, hoo! hoo! yer deceiver! Yl thump yer head! Tl t’ar yer ha’r out by the roots! VIl teach yer ter play upon the feelin’s of a vartuous female!” With hair and bonnet 2 ri gridiron flourished bigh in one hand, her other a ar clinched, SuKE Svoon, tall, gaunt, and as ie a state of health as ever, now came rush- ng through soldiers, settlers and women, to- ward Killb’ar. who, begrimed with smoke and powder, stood leaning upon his long rifle, grin- ning. At sight of Suke, the hunter showed no aston- ishment, although he did evince considerable trepidation. He turned as if to flee, but per- ceiving it was too late, seemed determis to make the best of his situation. ‘‘ How yer do, Suke Spoon?” he said, calmly, eer ea hand; ‘‘I knew my bullet didn’t new a ‘hit you; yer fallin’ down war alla trick! ‘You’re a noble gal, Suke,so far as fortitude, heroics and sich is consa: ‘* She looked at him fiercely, as if she thought he was merely flattering in order to turn her wrath from devoted head. - None of that ky nonsense, Croekery !” she exclaimed; ‘‘thar war a time when I mought have listened to sich honeyed words with paltertatin’ buzzum, but that time are now gone past and [ doubt ef it may ever return. The love which I once felt fer yer can only be restored by yer makin’ the sacrifis which it are yer dooty to make, considerin’ how yer en- couraged me ter believe that yer intentions war serious!” ‘“‘T never encouraged yer! Thar never war a I kin remember, that I said a word to ore ren oe I meant to hev the knot most senseless. To aprieg to his feet was then, Killb’ar, the Guide. ‘* Crockery! oh, Crockery! ef the ’arth war to open and swaller yer, this minit, I don’t think it would be any more than you mought have reason to expect after tellin’ sich lies as them! Thar war one time, I kin remember it well—when the stars were a-shinin’ in heaven, and the frogs war a-singin’ thar sweet hymns in the swamp, that yer come to me and told me that my ha’r war brighter than boop gens J waters, and my eyes lovelier than pebbles, half- buried in the sand.” ‘*That war nothin’; I said that merely out of compliment, and not that I meant anything sweet by the same!” ‘‘And I by yer side! Oh, yer varmint! What kin equal the culpable natur’ of sich men as are arter the destroyin’ of woman’s most precious jewel—the modesty which prevents her declarin’ the love which are a-burnin’ in her heart, like hot pokers a-turnin’ holes in wood!” ‘*Now then, Suke, I beg that bi remain calm. Yer kin, if yer choose, and I hope you will choose. Thar are sartin pekooliarities of yer sex which are charmin’ to behold, and modesty are one of these; modesty I hev al- ways found in you, Suke Spoon, more than in enny others of yer sect! That is a kind of shrinkin’ modesty, which are very, very precious, and which you sartinly hev to per- feckshun, along with yer good looks!” The compliment had no softening effect. Suke came’ on, caught the hunter by the hair of the head, and commenced dealing him a suc- cession of tremendous thwacks upon the back with her gridiron. “Thar! thar! thar! Oh, yer may squarm; yer may twist; I’m bound to hev satisfaction, ef tbar’s law in the land! You war a parfect rascal to trifle with a promisin’ young gal like me as would make any mana good wife! Take that, and that, and that THAR! I'll get breeches of promise ef thar’s law in the land!” Still belabored, the hunter finally made a powerful effort, and breaking away, soon dis- appeared from the block-bouse. Suke came rushing out, to just catch a glimpse of him as Le vanished in the wood. She ran, hoping to overtake bim, her bonnet- strings and hair flying in the wind. Meanwhile, Killb’ar, turning, caught sight of her coming after him, and redoubled his speed. He bounded ahead, with the swiftness of a roe, and had soon disappeared from the vision of Suke Spoon in the deep shadows of the woods. Still, however, she followed, until, ber dress catching against a twig,she was thrown flat upon the ground. “This are sartinly an ad ‘itional to my woes!” she exclaimed, seating herself, and rccking to and fro; “I hev follered that pesky deceiver, it seems, jist to git into a situation which are both pekooliar and mortifyin’!” / In fact her d was badly torn, disclosing ankles and feet of a size which were more than a match for her other stupendous proportions. While she was still giving vent to her grief and anxiety, there was a step behind her, and, turning, she beheld Minniho, the beautiful In- dian girl, who stood, as if about to beat a re- treat. ** Hello! Injun gal!” exclaimed Suke, spring- ing to her feet, ‘what hev brought you byar again? Ain’t yer found that lover of yours yet, and a-given him a good pummelin’?” ‘No find,” answered Minniho, sadly. ‘Ah! "fraid no find more—’fraid been kill by white man! ‘‘That’s whar yer are mistaken. What kind of a lookin’ chap war yer lover, and what war his name?” ‘‘Omoski! Eye like eagle, form like moun- tain pine. No Injun like him!” she added, proudly. : “He are all right!” cried Suke; “I see’d him inside the bloek-house, safe and unharmed. He war a pris’ner until the fight was over, when he war set free!” ‘*Oh, Minniho very glad!” “Ef you take my advice, Ph will pummel him fer runnin’ artersome other gal, especially one that are.not his own color. saw him a- castin’ sheep’s eyes at me, but he soon found out that it war no use, as I didn’t give him the slightest encouragement, which sartinly grieved him mighty bad!” Minniho, eying the speaker keenly, seemed to understand her character at once. She merely shrugged her shoulders with a mixture of quiet pity and contempt. “* Like to see Om again! No lay band on Omoski! Omoski no squaw; he fight with brave warrior, and Minnibo look up to iim as she look up to pine on mountain rock.” aon eet ee “Ef you look up to him that way, you are a pesky ool! You'll get no thanks for it—noth- ’? but broken bones in the end, which are the way of the male sect to them as give ’em en- couragement,” ‘*Omoski’s voice is sweet to Minniho!” ap- swered the girl; “his voice falls upon her spiri#é like the thunder rumbling with the sweet bell» on the white man’s church! If heloved her she would be content!” With these words she turned and quitted Suke, who gazed after her with an expression of comical pity. ‘“*Thar goes one of them poor deluded hea- thens, who are always a-talkin’ thar poultry about sich luv as kin never grow upon this’ enny more than radishes and turnips kin grow in red clay! Oh! when will the female sect be resuscitated from sich thralderum as torments thar buzzums!” Meanwhile Omoski, now free, stood, heedless of the hubbub of voices around him, watchiag with admiration the pale, beautiful counte- nance of Lucy Ward, seated upon a bench by the side of her uncle, who was talking to sev- eral of his friends. Suddenly through the crowd of settlers and soldiers a fine-looking young man—none other than the messenger who had brought the troops. thither, but with the black patches now washed =p his face—made his appearance in front of ucy. The latter gave one wild cry of joy, then eprung up, and fell almost fainting into the arms of t eyoune man, crying: ‘Mark! Mark! it ishe! Thank God! Thank God! Not dead after all!” CHAPTER XIII. .. HE YOUNG BRAVE’S HEART FIGHT. In a,few words the young man explained. He had set out on his journey at a good pace to bring the minister who was to marry bim to Lucy. He had not proceeded more than fifteen miles, however, when he came unon certain signs, showing that Indians had recenuly passed that way. e signs, though minute, such as the displacing, bere and there, of a twig by the movement of the body, and the faint impression of moccasins upon the grass, were sufficiently plain to the practiced eye of Mark Winters. On discovering the signs, he hesitated a few moments, thinking whether he had better ad- vance or retreat. Finally he concluded that he would go back to procure arms with which to defend himself in case of attack. Accordingly, turning his horse’s head, he was about retracing his way, when suddenly he caught sight of the keen eyes, glittering like fire- flies, of a couple of savages, otherwise screened from his sight, gleaming from a clump of alruliery upon his right. To betray his knowledge of their vicinity would, he knew, seal his fate at once. He mu:- tered all his resolution to keep’a calm face, giv- ing no sign of the discovery he had made, meanwhile permitting his horse to keep on at its .ywsual . Then carelessly thrusting his hand in his left pocket, he caught at the handle and opened the blade of a large jack-knife he carried, and which, in the event of his coming 2 close quarters, might help him defend him- self, On went the horse, and soon ep the very clump of shrubbery in which the Indians were concealed. Now was a critical moment, Mark’s whole body was covered with perspira- tion as be passed that bush, expecting every ame - agg to feel the deadly tomahawk cleave his skull. This did not ag ico passed tke bush, believed that he could now es- cape. Accordingly, he suddenly urged his horse forward at a tremendous pace, turning, as be did so, to see a couple of rifles protruding from the bush! Bang! went one of them, and down went his horse, stumbling upon its forelegs, while a stream of blood gushed down the side of its bead, which bad been perforated by a bullet. Mark sprung from the saddle just in time to save himself from being crushed to death, and took to hig heels, when, his foot catching in some vines trailing along the ground, down he stum- bled, flat upon his face. Before he could regain his feet the Indians were upon him. Oneraised his tomahawk, which he seemed on the point of using, when'the other grasped his arm, They concluded to make him prisoner; bis arms were secured with thongs of deer-hice, and he was led off to a tree, to which the I-- dians secured bim, while with their tomahev ks they proceeded to scoop, in a small, na‘urel holiow, a place large enough for the reception He kept on, and having
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the dead horse, which it was evident they not wish te remain unburied, and thus afford a elew to the prisoner’s fate. The hollow ‘was soem dug, the horse was, with much diffi- eulty, relled in and buried, with leaves and twigs so artfully arranged as to resemble a natural clump of shrubbery and conceal the animal. Afterward Mark was conducted to the Indian ony in which he found a negro, voluntarily a slave, who had long before dis- —— in an unaccountable manner, from the settlement in which Mark was born. The slave, reco nizing him, resolved to help him to escape. @ came to the lodge at night, bringing him a piece of burnt wood to blacken his face, and an old blanket, such as was worn by the negro himself. Thus disguised, Mark, on a dark nigat, contrived to get past the Indian guard, who mistook him for the negro. On the previous day, the young man had made the wegro in return for his kindness a present of ring, which had been much admired by the “Well,” continued the narrator, “I did think I should escape, but I had not proceeded many miles when I was recaptured by the Indians, who then informed me that they had forced the negro to own that he had connived at my escape, and had then BURNED HIM ALIVE IN A HOLLOW TRERY’ At this glances of intelligence were exchanged between Lucy and her uncle. “It is plain now,” exclaimed Mr. Ward “how the mistake regarding that body found in the hollow tree, was made!” “Yes,” replied Lucy,” and oh! thank God! that it was not Mark, after all!” ‘“ We, indeed, have reason to be thankful!” answered her uncle. “I certainly have,” replied Mark,” although I feel very sorry for that poor negro who be- friended me! The Indians told me that he made frantic endeavors to escape them. One time he clambered far up into the branches of a lofty tree and there lay upon his belly, think- ing that his pursuers did not see him. ,The Indians agreed, however, for the sake of tor- turing their intended victim, as the cat tortures the mouse, to pretend that they did not sce him. Therefore they all sat down under the tree, and commenced to talk on various sub- jects, secretly enjoying the agony and _sus- pense of the poor fellow above them. They remained thus for several hours, when they rose and moved away as if to proceed, Thi however, was only a feint; they went out o sight of the watcher and screened themselves among some thick bushes, whence they could, unobserved by the object of their regards, watch his every movement. Soon they saw bim descend from the tree, peer cautiously around and then set out upon a run. The deception had now been carried far enough. With a wild whoop, they started after him, and were soon close upon him. Then they slackened their pace that he. might gain further headway, allowing him finally to vanish almost from their sight. At this point, they increased their speed, and in a short time were near en ‘to see him crawl into the hollow tree. They now lengthened out the poor fellow’s suf- ferings by resting themselves and quietly watching this tree. Wondering that its occu- pant did not emerge therefrom, they proceeded to the hollow trunk, when they found the negro so closely jammed that he could not extricate Nee ee ee ee eee himself! ** At this they set up an exultant shout, then proceeded to heap dry fagots round the tree and light them, The rest is well known to you,” The young man-had finished his narrative wben Suke Spoon elbowed her way to the side of Lucy Ward. “See hyar, young gal!” she exclaimed, ‘‘ yer won't be jealous ef I tell yer that I bev good reason to believe that this young man, while with mein the woods, he hev proposed to me ef I had encouraged him! I could see it in his eye, but thanks to my devotion, which are very powerful, I war love-proof! I tell you this, because I like to show up the male sect, and save affeckshuns from bein’ trifled with as mine war!” So saying, she turned away, leaving Lucy | perplexed, and Mark somewhat indignant. The young man, however, soon succeeded in con- vinzing the girl of his truth, Blushing and smiling, with joy in her soft eyes, Lucy was new a changed girl. “We will Me very happy!” cried Mark, slyly squeezing ber and. ‘ Ah, 1% bappier than words can express!” the gir. ‘‘ Kall seems to me like a Killb’ar, the Guide. dream; a little while ago mourning you as dead and now finding you alive and well! Even now,” she added, smiling, ‘‘it almost seems to me as if I am seated by the side of a ghost /” ‘*Do I look so very much like a ghost, then?’ inquired Mark. nd as he spoke he "gave proof of his being real flesh and blood by bestowing an emphatic kiss upon Lucy’s odutitie lips. ‘*Ok, Mark!” she murmured, glancing round, however, to perceive that they were not noticed. _ “Now, then, when shall we be married?’ he inquired. ** As soon as you please,” ‘Immediately, then!” “Oh, no! I did not mean so soon! not even had time to comb my hair!” While the lovers were conversing, Omoski stood watching them askance. The attitude of the Indian, at this juncture, would have formed an excellent study fora inter. There he stood, his head half bowed, is form drawn sideways, his face strangely immobile, while in his eyes was an almost death- like expression of despair! It was by the eye alone that Omoski showed his feelings, yet it would have required a good judge of character to detect the feeling uppermost in the mind of this Indian. ‘Love! love!” he muttered to himself, ‘ The white bird has found her mate, and they can sit, bathed in sunshine, while Omoski’s, spirit is as black as acioud when there is neither sun nor moon.” ‘“‘ Well, Indian, what do you say?” remarked Captain Bloomfield, advancing and slapping the red-man on tbe back, ‘‘ will you go back to your woods, or shall we Seep od here in the settle- ment? You seem to bea friendly Indian enough, and I do not care to harm you.” Omoski started as if an adder had stung bim. ‘*Omeski will go back to the woods!” ‘Very well. I hope you wil] vot join those rascally fellows of your tribe, who attacked the settlement!” “The Indiau’s soul will never join theirs in the hunting grounds!” answered the young war- rior, gloomily, and strode away. He moved only afew paces, then sat down, still lothto leave the vicinity of the ‘ white bird,” as he had called her, He sat a long time, now and then watching the two askance, while dark thoughts mingled with his sadness, Meanwhile Lucy and her lover seemed ob- livious of his presence. They were still conver- sing as if there were no persons but themselves in existence. A savage idea seemed suddenly to glide into the Indian’s mind, and his hand sought the hunting-knife in his belt. He moved carelessly toward the couple, and was soon close behind them. Then he paused a moment, as if ir- resolute, after which he turned away, and re- sumed the seat he had quitted. There he sat, musing for several minutes, when he rose. “The white bird will never again sing to the Indian. Never again speak to Omoski! Why stay? He will go to bis tribe and meet his dis- race! Not in the fight—not, seeking the Red ear! It is all over with the Indian! His sun has set! The last day is done! He will never go to the hunting-grounds! Farewell!” Thus muttered Omoski, as he turned his jeal- ous eyes resolutely away from the block-house and moved toward the forest. Suddenly he paused, and half turned, a fierce, light in his eyes, as if with some deadly purpose. His hand sought his rifle; he half lifted it with lowering brow, his dark glance turned toward Lucy and her lover, who were moving past the gate toward her uncle’s residence. Then he changed his mind. ‘“Why grieve the white bird? Her mate has ceme back to her! Let her be happy!” Moving on, the Indian again felt the spell of the white girl upon him. He half turned, leaning upon his rifle, a melancholy gleam in his dark eyes. After a few moments Lucy and her lover dis- appeared from his sight. “Gone! The sun—the light—the stars are out! Omoski’s heart is dark!” He moved on a step further—paused—again turned. “* Never sing to Omoski!—no, never!” And this time he resolutely plunged into the wocds. He had not proceeded much further, when up from the brusracod started a female form, her eyes wild—her face thin—her hair drooping all reund her shoulders. It was Minniho! “Where goes Omoski?” I have 18 = I CNN POT 1 ERTS OE at) a a A i OR NY srs dacs ene TA eaten “To his tribe!” answered the Indian, gloom- ily. Xi He will die! Go not!” “What? Minniho think Omoski fears the tomahawk?’ The Indian was dark with anger. “No. Omoski fears nothing! Bat Minniho begs him to go away off with her to some dis- tant forest! Oh, she would-then be glad. She wouki sing to bim! She would never desert him!” The dark eyes were turned up softly and humbly, the arms crossed meekly over the bosom, the voice full of melody. **No!” answered the Indian; ‘‘he loves not the dark bird’s tp. An expression of agonizing pain came over the ly face. ps to love—try to love!” she murmured, wes > ingly. ‘No Minniho will be very to Omoski! She will be like a little child! She will make a hap- py wigwam for him! She will make him better moccasins than any other girlcan make. The deer’s-meat shall always be to his taste!” “ No!” “The game shall be plenty. She will go forth with him and not let him carry the heav deer or buffalo-meat. She will carry all his burdens.” ““ No,” “She will talk to him and sing to him when he issad, She will make his rifle shine with the white powder.” ae No.”’ Vainly the girl pleaded. Omoski, with long steady strides, walked deeper into the forest. Minniho followed, with grief-stricken face. CHAPTER XIV. DAVY CROCKETT FOREVER! In about three bours, the two suddenly came upon a party of Cherokees, seated in a clearing in the woods. Among them was the old chief, Omoski’s father, and the hunter Killb’ar, who had been captured just as he was about wheeling round to return to the settlement. At sight of the young Indian, who evinced not the slightest emotion at seeing the white captive, Comigo sternly advanced and laid his hand on bis son’s shoulder. ‘Seven suns have set. Where is the Red Bear’s scalp?” “Omoski has broken his word.” ‘““Why was he not with us in the fight?” “ A white bird held his heart.” “‘Omoski is disgraced. He must die!” ex- claimed the old man, with unfaltering voice. ‘*Comigo’s, own hand must deal the death- blow!” “It is well!’ answered Omoski. As he spoke, the ttibe’s propbet was seen te make his appearance. ‘*What says Out-way-na-baf” inquired Co- migo; ‘is it well to kill the young warrior, now, or wait for another sun?” ‘Out-way-na-ha will go and talk to the Great. 5 oe answered the prophet, as he bubbled rs) ‘Bee hyar!” exclaimed Killb’ar, ‘ef you are a-goin’ to hold one of your infernal pow-wows, jist be as quick as posserble, as I hev some curi- osity to know what’ in thunder you intend a- doin’ with me. So hurry u r funeral!” ‘Stop speak!” exclaime Gomine: angrily to the prisoner; ‘if not, quick kill!” “You kin a go abead as soon as you like!” returned Killb’ar; ‘‘thar’s little comfort in bein’ in a situation like the present, which are distractin’! One thing is sart’in, I’d sooner be burned to brimstone and merlasses than fal] in with the big she elephant, Suke Spoon, which are arter me with sich powerful gumption!” The prophet entered his rude lodge, whence the most dismal sounds were heard to proceed, “With all due respect fer sich outrageous nonsense!” remarked Killb’ar, “the noises are something like that made by a lot o’ pigs, all arter a meal! I hope that Out-o’-the way, will come out of that are lodge, before long!” The noises grew louder every moment. Fi- nally they increased to the most dreadful shrieks, mingled with chants and peculiar noises, as of many guttural voices all ing to- gether. The faces of the Indians without were ex- prestive of the most solemn awe and t, ae they listened. Huddled together they all siood, exchanging glances, but not venturing to speak a word. The solemnity of the scene was broken upon by Killb’ar, who his logs impatiently.
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~ 14 “ Ker-whoop!” he exclaimed, ‘‘ them are sar- Vinly the most outrag’us noises that ever greet- ed the ear of a Christ?in. Thar war a time once when I war upgn a rock, surrounded b one thousand red-skins. Thar they war, a a-shriekin’ and howlin’ together arter my sxin, when the thought struck me that I'd jist set up a howlin’, too, and see which could howl the loudest. To do this, I stood upon my toes, and, jist puffin’ myself out, raised my voice so tre- «nendously powerful that a couple o’ trees, not far off, were torn up by the roots, and the ha’r of the Injuns begun a-droppin’ out o’ thar heads! Well, that was. a good thought o’ mine, for the varmints soon begun a-scamperin’ off with sich speed as were never see’d by any Injun before!” Just as Killb’ar concluded, the prophet came rus forth from the lodge, his eyes rolling in his b his whole face convulsed as if by a ae) spasm, “Ker-whoop, yer old skunk! Now, then, out with it!” ; The old man, leaning against the trunk of a t:ee, now poured forth a perfect volley of words in the Indian tongue, of which Killb’ar comprehended enough to know that be was ad- vising the execution of Omoski at once. ‘““You bivodthirsty old varmint!” exclaimed the hunter. : oe however, at once unslung his toma- awk, ‘The sooner Comigo strikes the better,” said Omoski, quietly. So saying, he threw down his rifle and tima- hawk, and stood awaiting bis fate. Comigo moved to one side and held a brief council with the other chiefs. Stern and unre- lenting, they decided on Omoski’s immediate execution, Comigo, tomahawk in hand, advanced to deal the fatal blow. “ Before Comigo strikes, Omoski would speak for the white hunter. Spare him—let him go free! He nas saved Omoski’s life!” Another council was held, It was decided that the young Indian’s wish should be com- plied with. “Now strike!” said the latter, facing his father. ‘‘ Omoski is ready!” Up went the tomahawk, when, with a shriek, Minnikeo sprung forward and caught the old chief’s arm. There was also another interposition, in the voice of Killb’ar: “See hyarl Jist hold on a minute, will yer? T ain’t got much pity for Injuns ginerally, but thar’s a feller-feelin’ in my buzzum for Moscow hyar, sich as I never felt before! Thunder! It’s Moscow’s last day for seekin’ the Red B’ar, you say! - Well, thar’s time for him to try to redeem himself yet, ef he wants ter, seein’ as Vm the very chap he’s arter, the great b’ar and Injun-fighter, Davip Crooxkert!’ he effect of this announcement may bo im- med. Am animated conversation took place among the old chiefs, while Omoski’s eyes light- ed up as he remembered, and now accounted for, the Wonderful skill which bis white com- ion had shown on several occasions. sbsagee 3 Comigo, advancing toward the pris- oner, said: “The white-face tell many lie! How know speak truth?’ “‘Ker-whoop! Yer old skunk! do yer pre- glances. It was evi- dent that they still doubted the truth of the hunter’s remark. “The white man’s word may be taken,” said - Omoski; ‘he has a | ig tongue, but he speaks truth now!” “Thank ye, Moscow! That tongue of your’n, like them of all Injuns, aren’t very long of a sartainty, else you’d hev tried to talk more merlasses to the white bird—the objeck of your affeckshuns!” At the mention of this Omoski’s face was shadowed by an expression of deep grief. “The white bird is lost! Omoski never see again! She has left his heart very dark!” “Come, Moscow, do try and get over that foolish passion! Thar’s one way to do it, which are to roll over and over at the bottom of a river fer about two hours! Once I was des- pritely in love with a Dutch gal, whose mother warn’t atall favorable tew me. I wassoall-fired in love with the gal, that when I swallowed a bot pertater once, which would hey burned me under ofd’nary sarcumstances, it felt as cold as a lump of ice!” The Indians now held a consultation, after which Comigo advanced toward the huuter. Killb’av, the Guido. “Why call Kilib’ar? *Fraid of own name?” ‘‘Thar’s only one thing in creation that I are afraid of, and that are Suke Spoon,” ‘Why call Killb’ar, then?’ ‘‘That war one reason, I knowed Suke war arter moe, and so took a different name, that she mought not track me. To use a classical compression, I prefar:d travelin’ corncob,” (ineog.) ‘* Why not tell Omoski, you Rep Brar?”’ ‘* Because I liked the fun o’ the thing, war one reason; and then again I war every day less and less inclined to fight with poor Moscow, and wanted ter put it off, because the young Injun somehow won upon my feelin’s! I couldn’t b’ar the thought o’ takin’ his life!” ‘*1f you Red Bear, got big scar under throat. Seminole chief once fight with you. Put knife in breast! White-faces come! Seminole run!” ‘*Thunder! thar’s a whoppin’ lie! Ef you mean the ‘ Copper Kettle,’ I kin jist tell yer that I was the only white-face round, We got into ascrimmage, and the ‘Copper Kettle’ begun a bilin’ over, and before I knowed it. stuck his knife in my breast. I jist knocked him over the head with this ’ere rifle, when he jumped upon his horse, and in forty minits war t/other side of the mountains.” Comigo, now stooping, pulled aside the hunt- er’s shirt and discovered the Seminole scar! There could no longer be a doubt upon the subject; the prisoner was the renowned Crockett! At this, the eyes of the old chief lighted up. He would not have to take his son’s life after all. Omoski had before him yet the chance of regeraype his word. ‘“‘ Omoski will fight the Red Bear now?” ‘¢-Yos,” answered the young Indian, the old spirit lighting his eyes. ‘‘But if Omoski falls, he Red Bear’s scalp must remain untouched. No other hand than Omoski’s should take it. The white hunter must be set free!” ‘¢ Well done!” exclaimed Crockett. ‘‘ You're a noble Injun, and it goes mightily ag’in’ me to take yer life! But, ef we must fight, why the sooner the better, as I arein a hurry to get back to the settlement!” The prisoner's arms were unbound, The chosen weapons were hunting-knives. The Indians formed a wide circle round the two, and at a given signal, the combat commenced. Omoski aimed his blows rapidly and skillfully, but so quick were the movements of Crockett that he avoided every thrust by nimble dodg- ing. Ons veral occasions he might have buried his knife in the young Indian’s heart, but he seemed loth to do so, Finally the two closed. Omoski’s match for wrestling had never been found among the red-men, but he now had to deal with one who could unloosen the hug of a bear and hurl the animal to the ground. With one downward sweep of his knife, Crockett severed the blade of Omoski’s close to the handle; then seizing the Indian by the throat with one hand, and by his belt with the other, whirled him over his hip to the earth! Catching the prostrate Indian by bis scalp-lock, while with both knees pressing him to the ground, the hunter held his knife suspended wee him, as if to show how easily he might it, “Strike!” hoarsely cried the Indian. ‘‘ Omos- ki rather die than live after this! Strike!” ‘No! no!” cried Minniho, ‘No strike?” Crockett thrust his knife in his belt. “Thar, Moscow, you've satisficod yer rela- tions, and I’m parfectly satisfied too. You did er best, and Pkin say, fought better than any njun that I war ever engaged with. Keor- whoop! cheer up, and don’t be down-hearted !” Tbe Indian rose as Crockett released him. Both arms being sprained by his fall, hung as if broken by his side. He glanced at Minniho, in whose soft eyes, as well asin those of the other Indians, he read reg and mortification at the result of the ght. The girl evidently guessed the thoughts which were passing through his mind. She glided to his side, she laid both hands gently upon his arms, and looked up beseechingly into his face, smiling a bright, hopeful smile. ‘‘Minniho is still proud of Omoski!’ she ex- some softly. ‘‘She will ever be proud of m The Indian half turned away. ** Come, Moscow!” exclaimed Killb’ar, ‘‘ don’t yer fret yerself over what’s happened! Ef [ say it myself, I have licked two red-skins as once in a fair, stand-up fight. Let that console er. Yorkin know one thing, which mought a comfort, and that are that you are the — oe panne egg = * = aaeerds —- bravest of yer kind, and kin thrash any of »the rest of the red-skins!” - ; Still, however, Omoski looked fully as gloom as before. He turned his glance westward, eas if he would penetrate the dark afches of the forest and fix his eyes upon the white girl once more, Comigo, with all the other warriors,. stood apart, their oe fixed sternly. upon the young man. The red prophet, meanwhile, had ‘begun a low, mournful chant, which rung strangely through the woods. Omoski listened several moments, then took a few steps for- ward, The weight of his misfortunes, his loss of the white bird, his defeat, his absence from his brothers during their. late battle with the pe ae, now came upon him with crushing orce, ‘*Farewell! farewell!” he howled.) ‘The Manitou spoke wrong! He said Omoski would win in the fight with the Red Bear!” ‘*No! no!” exclaimed Minniho, ‘it. wes not Manitou who spoke to Omoski from the holluw tree. Jt was poor Minniho !” “Tt matters little. Omoski’s spirit is broken! He has lost his heart. Farewell! He will never join his tribe again!” So saying, the Indian turned, and rushing te She depths of the dark woods, soon was out of sight. Minniho followed him, her hair streaming, her eyes strangely wild, vainly calling upon him to come baci, Before the other Indians could imitate her example, one of their scouts came in reporting that a force of the cavalry now was scouring the woods. Crockett advanced to meet them, while the Indians immediately left, making their way to- ward the Savannah. As the hunter hurried forward, he suddenly heard the cries of Min- niho on his right, asif for assistance. He has- tenedin the direction of the sound, and soon came upon a clearing in which a couple of cav- alrymen had rushed at Omoski, and were now striking at him with their sabers. The youn Indian had, when attacked, reached a smal] collection of thin trees, almost saplings, amia which be now stood motionless, calmly and scornfully awaiting his fate. ‘*‘ Ker-whoop, hold back!” exclaimed Killb’ar, rushing forth. The soldiers paused, as the hunter emerged to view. ‘*No, no, yer mustn’t kill this ’ere red-skin!” continued Killb’ar; “‘he are a different skunk from the kind you are used to, and are under my pretection!” ‘And who ars you, friend?” *“*Davip CROCKETT, at yer sarvice!” “David Crockett!” exclaimed one of the sol- diers, extending bis hand; “ are you really he?” ‘““Of course I am! Tharcan be no mistake about that, seein’ as I oughter know myself.” “Tf you are,” said the soldier, thrusting his hand in his pocket, ‘‘ here is a letter for you. It was put into my bands by a woman as I was passing a cabin on the other side of the moun- tains. She said she was your wife.” Crockett took the letter, a joyful grin extend- ing all over his face, and was soon deep in its contents. While he was reading it, Omoski made off, and so also did the two soldiers. When the hunter had finished his letter, he looked up to find himself alone. ‘‘ Well, this are sartinly an adventur’ which I won’t easily forget! I am mighty sorry for that are poor Moscow, which war a good fighter for an Injun. Now, Is’pose I better git heck to the settlement, ef I kin without attractin’ the attention of Suke Spoon.” He finally arrived at the settlement, and sought the house of Lucy’s uncle, where he was warmly received both by the young girl herself and by Mark Winters. The hunter’s surprise at seeing his friend, apparently Pa fr the dead, may be imagined. On ing Mark’s story, he burst into a roar of Jaughter. “Well, now, I kin say that almost beats the biggest adventur’ I ever had in my life. I war once caught by Injuns and harf burned. Be- fore they burned me all up, I fist conkluded to lay devil, which might ibly save my life. Vell, it did it, fur I jist sucked the smoke and flame through my skin and then blowed it out of my mouth and nose, which war a parfect sutcess, as it sent ’em all howlin’ into the woods. Then I jist cut my bonds and mado off a-larfin’ as ef I would split!” Two days later Mark Winters was married. Among the assembled guests was David Crock- ett, standing in a corner, leaning on his rifle and grinning from ear to ear, Suke Spoon had no}
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troubled him since his return to the settlement, but having concluded to go in search of him, had remained absent ever since. Whab was the. hunter’s consternation, how- ever, toward the conclusion of the ceremony, to see enter the room no less a personage than the formidable Suke, still carrying the knapsack containing the gridiron and pot. The former article she u- loosened, then placed herself in front of the dismayed hunter, catch- ing him by the hair of the head and drawing him toward the minister, heedless of the expos- tulations and cries of “‘ Order!” all around her. **Ker-whoop! yer deceitful hoosier. Jist yer come and marry me ter once, or I’ll hev onmar- ciful satisfaction. Come along, come along! Thar never war sich a parsecuted femalé as me in the bull country! Squarm and kick, will yer! I've found yer now, and yer got ter marry me!’ a ey ood and merlasses! ef I do may I be shot! Dm married already. Thunder and lightnin’! b’ars and catamounts! dogs and buf- felora! let go my ha’r, won’t yer!” **No, I won’t! My affeckshuns is consumed on the halter! My heart is a-bu’stin’ with mingled grief and indignashun! How kin [ let go yer ha’r under them sarcumstances?” ‘*Ker-roop! ker-roop! Look out thar! goes! Hoo-00-00! whoop!” At the same moment soniething whizaed through the air like a cannon-ball and went bounding torough the open window to the ground, a distance of twenty feet, It was David Crockett, who, by av ing a handful of hair in the hands of loving Suke, bad contrived to escape her iron grasp. For a long time after, Suke searched for him but could not discover him. Finally, learning that he had joined the army of General Jack- son, she had thoughts of enlisting as a vivan- diere. This idea was discouraged by her father, who, having built a new house, wanted Suke. She obeyed, after much opposition, as a dutiful daughter should, and endeavored to quench her sorrows in manifold household duties. Finally she married a half-breed trapper, who made ber a good husband, as he was obliged to do under the management of such a powerful wife. When the war was over, Crockett, being in Georgia, concluded to discover the fate of Omoski, He traveled many miles, as usual subsisting by his rifle, and sleeping when he halted for rest in hollow trees or upon the open plain. Finally he found himself in a deep for- est in Florida. He walked a long distance un- til near sundown, when he came to the edge of a gloomy, far-extending swamp. He was about turning back when he beheld a pair of sharp eyes peering at him from a thick mass of tan- mf sbrubvery. At first he thought they were the eyes of some Indian, but he was undeceived by a low snarl, and the next moment a panther sprung forth with a bound, crouching within a few feet of him. As the piece was discharged, however, the animal must bave moved its head, for, although Crockett’s aim was a sure one, the bullet merely grazed the top of the crea- ture’s skull. With a yell like that of a whole band of Indians, the panther now made a spring for Crockett, who, however, stepping nimbly to one side, avoided the animal’s claws, and drove his hunting-knife into its neck. The animal had soon turned and made another spring at him, This time he was not as fortun- ate as before. The creature succeeded in plant- ing its claws in his shoulder, and would pro- bably the next moment have grasped his head in its capacious jaws, if a bullet from some hid- den rifle, ringing sharp and clear through the woods, had not Taid the creature low! Crockett rose to his feet, and glancing in the direction whence the sound had seemed to come, beheld the smoke of the piece ascendin in the very center of the swamp. He lean forward, and as the smoke cleared, caught a glimpse of a tall, thin figure, in faded Indian garb, gliding like a phantom through the shadows of the thicket swamp. “Well, now!” he exclaimed, ‘this are sar- t’inly queer enough; to save a man’s life and then scamper off in sich a manner as that! Ef I war the feller, I should sart’inly be glad to shake hands with him I’d saved!” “Hello, thar!” continued Crockett, as he ung from hummock to hummock, ‘* won’t ye ist stop and let me see yer face? Come, now, Whar’s the use of runnin’ away in sich a ? ee tol on, and had nearly overtaken the strange form, when it suddeniy vanished in & tnick clump of shrubbery abead. Crockett, Hyar Killb’ar, the Guide. forward and pushed however, sprung neeolntely An * another glimpse o aside the bushes, to catc the receding figure, crawling on like a snake. ‘* Ker-whoop! hold on, thar! Whar are yer goin’? Jist hold on one minit, and let me know ef you ain’t Omoski !” here was no reply, and Crockett, hurrying on, soon arrived upon the shore of a dim lake through which he beheld a canoe containing the tall figure, vanishing amid a group of thick cypresses, growing out of the water! rockett, with darkness fast gathering round him, concluded that he had better find some spot upon which he might pass the night. This was soon gained, but it was far from being adry one. The hunter spread his buf- falo skin, nevertheless, and seated himself upon it. By and by the moon came up, its silver light strangely contrasting with the gloom of theswamp, Crockett rose, and threw a keen glance around him; he thought he heard a dis- tant voice, He listened intently—the voice came nearer, and now he distinguished the words: ** Omoski! Omoski!” He gazed in the direction of the sound, and, faintly revealed, like a distant phantom, he held, far away upon the lake, passing an instant over a long, narrow strip of moonlight, athwart the water, the form of a girl, whose garb was evidently that of an Indian. “* Ef that ain’? Minniho, who else kin it be?” muttered the hunter. ‘Hither she and Omoski are a-livin’ together, or else she are still a-s’ar- chin’ and tryin’ to win him to her. Love are sart’inly a powerful stimulator, when it plays sich pranks with a poor gal!” He watched, hoping to see the female again, bnt he was not gratified. Daylight came at last, and before sunrise Crockett had commenced searching the swamp thoroughly. Vain the search, The swamp and lake were of such vast extent, and so filled with thick clumps of shrubbery, that he could discover no sign of those he had looked for. Finally he returned to dry land, where he re- mained, before starting on the homeward route, for several days, but saw no more of the two figures, although he always would insist that they were Minniho’s and Omoski’s. Other travelers, wandering hunters and trap- pers, for years afterward, would bring to the settlements reports of hearing, while passing a certain gloomy swamp, the plaintive cries as of a girl, pronouncing an Indian name. he name was Omoski, and the girl was Minniho, still vainly calling upon her half-crazed Indian lover. THE END. —— Galitdag Jouma, Most Charming of the Weeklies.” A pure paper; good in every thing; bright, brilliant and attractive. Serials, Tales, Romanves, Sketches, Adventures, Biographies, Pungent Essays, Poetry, Notes and Answers to Correspondents. Wit and Fun— froma such All are features in every number America can celebrated writers as no paper in boast of. What is best in POPULAR READING, that tho paper always has; hence for Homx, Sxop, Lr- PRARY and GENERAL READER it is without a rival; and hence its great and steadily imcreasing circulation. The Saturpay JouRNAL is sold everywhore by newsdealers; price sia cents per number; or to subscribers, post-paid, at the following cheap rates, viz.: Four months, one dollar; one year, three dollars ; 9x, two copies, five dollars. Addfess BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York, BEADLE AND ADAMS’ STANDARD DIME PUBLICATIONS. eakers. ave now on their Hsts the fol- lowing highly desirable and attractive text-book prepared ‘expressly for schools, families, ete, Ke volume contains 100 large , printed from clear, open type, comprisin the beat collection of Dia- logues, Dramas and Recitations, (burl , comic and otherwise.) The Dime pe goes, J for the season of 1882—as far as now issued—embrace twenty-four volumes, viz.: BEADLE AND ADAMS 1. American Speaker. | 13, School Speaker. 2. 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1 Deadwood Dick, rae Prince oF Trax Road By Edward L. Wheeler, 2 Yellowstone Jack, By Jos. B. Badger, Jr. 3 Kansas King. By Buffalo Bill. 4 The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Captain Mayne Reid and Captain I’rederick Whittaker. 6 Vagabond Joe, Tx Youra Wanpenine Jew. By Oll Coomes. Double Number, 10cts. 6 Hill Biddon, Trapper. by KE. 8. Ellis, 7 The Flying Yankee. By Col. P. Ingraham. 8 Seth Jones, Edward 8. Ellis. 9 Adventures of Baron Munchausen, Nat Todd. By E, §, Ellis. The T'wo-Detectives. By A.W. Aiken. Gulliver’s Travel«. By Dean Swift. The Dumb Spy. By Oll Coomes, Aladdin; or, E WONDERFUL Lamp, The Sea*Cat. By Captain Fred. Whittaker. Robinson Crusoe, (27 Illustrations.) KRalph Roy. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyages. The Phantom Spy. By Buffalo Bill. The Double Daggers, By EK. L. Wheeler. The Frontier Angel. By Edward 8, Ellis, The Sea Serpent. By Juan Lewis. Nick o? the Night. By T. C. Harbaugh. Diamond Dirk. By Colonel P. Ingraham. The Boy Captain. By Roger Starbuck. Cloven Hoof, By Edward L. Wheeler. Antelope Abe, tHe Boy Going, Oll Coomes, Buffalo Ben. By Edward L. Wheeler. The Dumb Page. By Capt. F. Yhittaker, Roaring ‘Ralph Rockwood , far Recx- Less RANGER. By Harry St. George. Keen-Knife, Prince or THE PRainres, By Oll Coomes. Bob Woolf, By Edward L. Wheeler. The Ocean Bloodhound, §&. W. Pierce. Oregon Sol, By Capt. J. F. CO. Adams. Witd Ivan. By Edward L. Wheeler. The Boy Clown, By Frank §S. Finn. The Hidden Lodge. By T. C. Harbangh, Ned Wylde, Tae Boy Scour. By Texas Jack. Death-Face, tHe Detectivx By Wheeler. Roving Ben. By J. J. Marshall. Lasso Jack, By Oll Coomes. The Phantom Miner. By E. L. Wheeler. Dick Se 5 Ae t. Fred. Whittaker. Rattling Rabe. By Harry 8t. George. Old Avalanche. By Edward L. Wheeler. Glass Eye, THe Great SHor oy THE WazsT. By Capt. J. F.C. Adams. Nightingale Nat. By T. C. mp Ang eh Black John, THEe,Roav-AGent. By ger. Omaha Oll, By Edward L. Wheeler. Burt Bunker, Tae Trapper. C. E. The Boy Rifles. By Archie C. Irons. The White Buffalo. By C. E. Lasalle. Jim Bludsoe, Jr. ws Kdward L. Wheeler. Ned Hazel. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams, Deadly - Eye, THz Unknown Scour; or, Toe BranpDeD BroTHERHOOD. By Buffalo Bill. 6 Nick Whiflles’ Pet, t. J. F. C. Adama, Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. By Wheeler. (S The Border King. By OH Coomes. at} ROSSR BC SREB HMKNK RON Se = we ee ee Dae SOK SODIA eM SS COMI ane ON HK OCOD Iam ODORS SUS STS GUST eee ie eh de do GO GO CO Orme Wwe SOO Old enerts By are george, The White Indian. pt. J. F. C, Adama, Buckhorn Bill. Edward L. Wheeler. 62 The Shadow Ship. By Col, P. Ingraham. 63 The Red Brotherhood. W. J. Hamilton. 64 Dandy Jack. By T. C. Harbaugh. urricane Bill, ae E. Badger, Jr 66 Mingle Hand, . J. Hamilton. atent-leather Joe, el Faitp 8S. Warne. 8 Berder Kobin Hood. By Buffalo Bill 9 Gol Rifle. oy Edward L. eeler. » By Capt. J. F. C. Adams, Oll Coomes. Penre ter) a $ 5 Haw\j-eye Marry. By Oll Coomes. The Duelist. By Col. P. I am. Crow-K1.uer. ty 4 . Aiken. Tine Dik. by Captain Mayne Reid. ue ayne ‘ f Terria. By A.W. Aiken. Bosebud ! By Edward L. Wheeler. Lightning Jo. Ey Kit Haretpoet. By T.C. Rollo, the y Ranger. By 0 Coomes, the Gis\ Miner. By ; Buc —T> a Capt. J. F. C. Adama. Daudy Mock. By G. The Land Pivates. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 5 Ba kat gl a Rd. 2! ay . Wheeler. Ialand Jim. fy Brace Hemyng. The Dread HRidea. By G. Waldo Browne. 91 The Captain of the Club; or, Tux Youne Rrva preerns. * Bracebri Hemyng. a Chet. 0B. 0D 00 OH OH GO ah Hahad Fah ahad ass CHOI ANm CO MOSCDUIOR Seeee 92 Canad By ward L. eeler. 93 The Boy Miners. Kdward 8, Ellis. 04 Midmight Jaek. By T. C. Harbaugh. 05 The valRovers. Lieut. Col. Hazeltine. 96 Watch-Kye, Tax Suapey, By E. L. Wheeler. 97 The Outlaw Brotheis By J. J. Marshall. 98 Robin Hood, By Prof Sildersleeve, 99 Whe Viger of Taoa. By G. Wakio Browne. 100 Beadwood Dick in Seadville; or, A Srranes pees yor Lisunry. By Wheeler. 101 Jack arkaway in New York. By 102 Dick “Kye, By Col 103 The Lion of the Sea. By Col Deilo Sara. 04 Bos ww ks Device. yo wey 05 @ a Tas Hpwrue. Cups ‘olmes. 106 Old Fr vem GuIbE. . OC, Harbaugh. 107 One-Hyed Sina. oy Jumma Le Bowen. 108 Daring Bavy. By Harry St. George. 169 Deadwood Dick as Detective. By Edward L. Wheeles, eH SCODWIAM mA Row wHewes BO DD RD ROU OO ee a et et pe et et mew Tie NM SOPRAMNEONKSSSZHIAMh CHK OOS4On + Judge Lynch, Solid Sam. B Handsome Harry. Peay Morris. Scar-Face Saul, he Panther Paul. B OQAGSNAAA KOM AN hh bd hdd hm OO ywowe~ me ~ ! Thunderbolt Tom. By H Dandy Rock’s Rival. By G.W. Browne, Bob Rockett, ram Boy Dopgzr. By Morris. Captain Arizona. By Philip 8.Warne. The Boy Runaway. By t. Perry. Nobby Nick of Nevada, EK. L. Wheeler. Old Solitary. By Oli Coomes, BK SVSsID ASSOMHKOSVRWIAMEHWHS RS RED RSID DON eh et et it ftp fit petted ttt tf tt pt ttf ft tf fk tf lk eh SSCSSCSSSCMHOMD KCSMMMPMakadafaFaFake FFF DHHGHOOD SOM QA SPAHNWHKSOH-IDMBEHHW HOODIA 1 Sugay Coated Sam. By E. | 22 Grit, the Bravo Sport. By Ingraham. DD tt OOS SSOOOSOSOSS BBRKSKSW BH WH 0 The Black Steed of the Prairies. 4 | Thrilling Story of Texan Adventure. By Bowen. 1 The Sea-Devil. By Col. P. Ingraham. The Mad Hunter. By Burton Saxe. Jack Hoyle. By Edward L. Wheeler. The Black Schooner. Roger Starbuck. The Mad Miner. By G. Waldo Browne. The Hussar Captain. Col. P. Ingraham. Gilt-Edged Dick. By E. L. Wheeler. Will Somers, THs Boy Derzcrivs. Morris, Mustang Sam. By Jos, E. Badger, Jr. The Branded Hand, By Frank Dumont. Cinnamon Chip. By Edward L, Wheeler. Phil Hardy, tux Boss Boy, _By C. Morris. Kiowa Charley. By T. C. Harbaugh. Tippy, THe Texan. By George Gleason. Bonanza Bill, Mrver. By Ed. L. eeler. Picayune Pete. By Charles Morris. Wild-PFire, Boss or1ne Roap. By Dumont. The Young Privateer. By H. Cavendish. Deadwood Dick's Double, By Wheeler. Detective Dick, By Charles Morris, The Golden Hand. By Geo. W. Browne. The Hunted Hunter. By Ed. 8. Ellis. Boss Bob, Tur Kine or THE Boorsuacks: or, THE PawNBROKHR’s Prot. Ed. L. Wheeler. Sure Shot Seth. By Oll Coomes, Captain Paul. By C. Dunning Clark, Night-Hawk Kit. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. The Helpless Hand, Capt. Mayne Reid. Blonde ill, . | Edward L. Wheeler. r. By T. C. Harbaugh. Biue Blazes. By Frank Dumont. ward L. Wheeler. Coomes. Dainty Lance, THe Boy Sport. By Badger. Captain Ferret. By Edward L. Wheeler. Silver Star, THz Boy Knioutr. By Coomes. Will Wildfire. By Charles Morris. Sharp Sam. By J. Alexander Patten. A Game of Gold, By Ed. L. Wheeler. Lance and Lasso. by Capt. F. Whittaker. os. FE. Badger, Jr. Black Bess, Wm. Witprinr’s CER; OF, Winnino AGarmst Opps. By Charles Morris. Eagle Kit, raz Boy Demon. By Oll Coomes. The Swerd Hunters, BY . Whittaker, Gold Trigger THE Sport. T. C 6 Deadwoo D Tue Proxep Parry. By Edward L. Wheeler. 7 Mike Merry. By Charles Morris. 8 Fancy Frank ot Colorado, Buffalo Bill. 9 The Lost Captain. By Whittaker. 0 The Black Giant. 4 J, EB. Badger, Jr. . Harbaugh. ick of Deadwood; or, New York Nell. By E. L. Wheeler. 2 Will Wildfire in the Woods, Morris. 33 Little Vexas. By O!l Coomes, 4 Dandy Rock's Pledge. G.W. Browne. 5 oil Bageere. By Charlie: or arr s Morris. y y Harry St. ey 7 Asa Scott, Tae SreamBoat Boy. By W: 8 Deadly Dash. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 9 Tornado Tom. T. C. Harbaugh, A Trump Card. _By Charles Morris, Kbon an, By Frank Dumont. Bob Roekett, raz Baya Rowrner. Morris, The Sea Trailer. yl Fate H. D. Perry. Wild Frank. Wheeler, Little Hurricane. By Oll Coomes, The Hidden Hand. By Chas. Morris, The Boy Trailers. By Badger, Jr, Evil Eye, Kixe or CaTeie THIKveEs; or, Ta Dumont, Cool Desmond, By Col. Delle Sara. Fred. HMalyard. By Charies Morrin. Ned Temple, tux Borprer Boy. Harbaugh. Bob Rockett, rae Cracnsman. By Morris, Dandy Darke. By Wm. R. Eyster. Buffalo Billy. Capt. Taylor, U. 8. A. Captain Kit. By Lieut. H. D. Perry,U.8.N. Captain Mask, Se the 8. Warne, Buffale Bills Bet, By Captain Taylor. Deadwood Dick’s Dream. By Wheeler. Shadowed. By Charles Morris. Little Grit, raz Witp River. By Ingraham, Arkansaw, By T.C. Harbaugh. Featherweight. By Edward Willett. Whe Boy Bedouins, By Whittaker. The Black Hills Jezebel, By Wheeler. Prospect Pete. By Oll Coomes. The oy Pards, By Jos, E. Badger, Jr. Gold Plume, THe Boy Banpit. Ingraham. Deadwood Dick’s Doom, By Wheeler Dark Paul, Tex Tickr Kine. By C. Morris Navajo Nick, ByT. C. Harbaugh. Whe Boy Hercules. By Oll Coomes. Fritz, tae Bounn-Boy Drrecrivn. Wheeler. Faro Frank of High Pine. By Eyster. Crooked Calé. ee: E. Badger, Jr. Dashing Dave. By Charles Morris. Fritz to the Front. By E. L. Wheeler. Wolfgang, THe Rosser oF THE RuHINz, By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 223 Ozark 6 se ov tws Mourwarm. By Edward Wille Dashing Dick. Oll Coomes. Sam Charcoal, By Charlies Morris. Snoozer, THE Boy Suarp. By B, L.Wheelrr. Dusky Darrell, TRAPPER. E. Emersow. Little Wildfire. By Oli Coomes, Crimson Kate. By Col. P. ahani. The Yankee Rajah. By C. D. Clark. Plucky Phil. ByT. C, Harbaugh. Gold-Dust Dick. By KE. L. Wheeler Joe Buck, of Angels. By. A W. Aiken. Old Rocky’s ‘ Boyees,’ Buckskin Sam Shadow Sam. _ By Charles Morris. Apollo Bill. By Edward L. Wheeler, Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain; or. THs Mysrerious RancnEro. By P. Ingraham The Parson Detective. By Oll Coomes The Gold-seecker Guide; or, Tax Losr Movontain. By Captain Mayne Reid. Cyclone Kit. By Edward L. Wheeler. Bill Bravo and His Bear Pards. By T. C. Harbaugh. The Two ‘ Bloods®, By Charles Morris, The Disguised Guide. By Oll Coomesa Sierra Sam, By Edward L. Wheeler, Merle, the Wiiddy. By Col. P. Ingraham. Giant George. By Buckskin Sam. Old Grizzly and His Pets. By Captair “Bruin” Adams... Sierra Sams Secret. By E. L. Wheeler. Wiilo Komer. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. Midshipman Mutineer, By Ingraham. Light-house Lige, By J. F. 0. Adams. Dick Dashaway. By Chas. Morris. Sierra Sam/’s Pard. By E. L. Wheeler. The Half Blood. By Edward §. Ellis, Captain Apollo. By T.C. Harbaugh. Young Kentuck. By Capt. Mark Wilton. The Lost Hunters. By Capt. Adams. Sierra Sams Seven, By E, L. Wheeler. - The Golden Harpoon. By R. Starbuck. Dare-Devil Dan. By Oll Coomes. Fergus Fearnaught. By Geo. L. Aiken. The Young Sleuths. By Charles Morris. Deadwood Dick’s Divide, By Wheeler. The Floating Feather. By Ingraham. The Tiger Tamer. By Capt. Whittaker. 266 Killb’ar, the Guide. By Ensign Charles Dudley Warren, (of the Engineer's Corps.) 267 The Buckskin Detective. By T. 0. Harbaugh. 268 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail, By Edward L. Wheeler. 269 The Gold Shi or, M THe Com DEMXED. By Colonal brontiss Teatahase 270 Blizzard Ben. By Captain Mark Wilton. 271 The Huge Hunter. By Edward S. Ellia 272 Minkekin Mike. By Oll Coomes. 2723 Jumbo Joe. By Edward L. Wheeler. 274 Jolly Jim. By Charles Morris. 275 Arizona Jack. By Buckskin Sam, (Major Sam 8. Hall.) 276 Merle Mlonte*s Cruise. By Ingraham. 277 Denver Doll. By Edward L. Wheeler. e Three Troneerm) or, Tan Moowrarr onstzen. By Major L. W. Carson, 279 Old Winch, rae Rois Kma. By T. G Harbaugh. Merle Wonte’s Fate, By Col, Ingraham. Denver Dolls Victory. By Wheeler. The Typo Detective. By Edward Willett. Indian Joe}; or, Taw Warre Srinit or Tas Hrs, By Major L. W. Carson. The Sea Marauder; or, Merz Monrs’s Purper. By Colonel Pren' Ingraham. Denver Doll’s Decoy. By E. L. Wheeler. Josh, the Boy Tenderfoot; or, Tax WiLp Men or Buzzarp Ban. By Mark Wilton. Tilly Blue-Kyes, By Col. P. Ingraham. The Scalp King. By Capt. J. F.C. Adama Jolly Jim’s Job. By Charles Morris. Little Foxfire, rue Bor Spr; or, Oup CaLem ARBUCKLE, Mouxtarin Dxrecrrvz, By OD Coomes. Turk, the Ferret. By E. L. Wheeler. Sancho Pedro, tus Bor Baworr. By Maj. F. L. St. Vrain, Red Claw, tHe Onz-Eyvep Trapper. By Captain Comstock. Dynamite Dan; or, Tax Bowrm Buiaps or Cocugerora. By r. C. Harbaugh. A new dgeue every wedk. The Half-Dime Library is for “y all Newsdealers, five centq per Cony. or rat vy nocnips: of six cents i AD &a or on ers, 98 William Street, New York. .