Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 288) (1883 01 30)
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* er" : , —_— = . Ke ( N a SH lanl lon en Il in a hi a | UE | é ==> RS x WW elaine) Pe ‘ K } \¢ « \ A el AS \ NK \ — \ \ \ Fan \ \ iy A a . . = > NCQ NCR //( ed (| I.WWS\\ CRY . Ww Le = a al ol a et tu et Tl aS. $2.50 a year, Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Class Mail Rates. Copyrighted in 1883 by BEADLE AND ADAM V ] _ Single PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, Price, Ol. ’ Num fips FH Wale) LET, aod U iP a7 LP as hia ¢ “Mian ‘ it. By ip v 4 >Y VL A B y UMS, ff, Vie 7 Mas eae BWINGING ALOFT THE BLOOD DRIPPING SCALPS OF THE INDIAN GIRL AND HER LOVER, SE DASHED AT HEADLONG SPEED THROUGH THE VILLAGE.
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The Human Thunderbolt. A Tale of Border Vengeance, BY CAPT. J. F. C. ADAMS, AUTHOR OF “THE LOST HUNTERS,” ‘‘ LIGHT- HOUSE LIGE,” “‘ LIGHTNING JOE,” ETO. CHAPTER I. THE OATH OF VENGEANCE, ‘As long as heaven spares my life, an so long shall my hand be raised in deadly hate against the red-man. ‘Here, on my bended knees, I swear to spare none within whose veins runs the least drop of Indian blood, man, wo- man or child—the gray-headed sire or helpless infancy. As they scalped those who were my all; as they—oh, mercy keep me from going mad—tore the silken hair from their heads even while pleading for mercy, so’shall my heart be- come stone and never know anything of pity; so will I follow them by day and night, beneath the summer’s sun and the winter’s snow, in daylight and. in darkness, in storm and calm— seeking all, sparing none, until for every hair. that has fallen a scalp shal] be torn and a red- blooded wretch sent howling into the arms of death. As I keep this oath, even so may God judge me when my own last hour shall come. ut may it not be until I have been avenged as never yet man was—until rivers of blood and mouatains of graves have partially satisfied my revenge against the wolves of the prairie.” Rarely, if ever, was a more beautiful home on the borders than that Roger Bennett had carved out of the wilderness for himself, just beyond the borders of civilization. A poor man, but gifted with extreme energy, he bad removed at a very early day from one of the sterile States that lie along the north- eastern shores of our country, to the fruitful- ness of the West, and invested his little all in the newly-surveyed Government lands, looking forward with perfect confidence to the time when the great wave of emigration should flow a beyond him and make his possessions valu- able. He was of the class of hardy pioneers whom no danger can daunt—to hom the usual stories of Indian massacre were but idle words. With him to resolve was to accomplish, and he had never failed to carry out the end he had in view. The means he employed were those most convenient—the impulses those of the mo- ment, and he very seldom stopped to calculate chances, Iu the choice of a location he had displayed rare judgment. The land he bad pre-empted was a mixture of prairie and timber, well wa- tered and lying upon the direct line where iron bands would at no distant day connect the east- ern and western shores—where the telegraphic nerve would thrill from ocean to ocean, busy hands erect cities and the sound of the church- last—that tomahawk,‘and knife, and flame would some day be d against bim, and in a single dark hour loved ones be murdered and all his property swept away. But as well might they have attempted to whistle down a tempest as to stir him in his firm resolutions. He had well calculated the ebances before he made the venture, and that done he became as iron. So he toiled with the | most. commendable industry, raised a house that was indeed a wonder in thats ly set- tled region, cleared up the forést, cultivated the prairie and coolly defied even the thought of calamity. ; But as it is upon the ocean so also has it ever roved to be in an Indian country—thbat calm is ut the rest that precedes the storm—and when he returned u a sweet summer evening from | an unusually lengthened journey, he found his beautiful home in ashes, his stock driven off, and a thousand-fold more than these, his wife and three little ones lying cold in death—wan- tonly, cruelly butchered—and scalped! : For a brief time hs stood leaning against the tree to which he had reeled for support, motion- less and dumb with the accumulated horrors. Then he drew his hand heavily over his eyes, walked nearer and looked upon the scene of utter desolation, gathered the brutally mangled The Scalp King; The Scalp King. go around him, and kneeling down called to witness the terrible oath of vengeance that escaped his lips—an oath that would be kept with the very last drop of his blood— ea the very last blow of his death-stiffening and! : A man of the most violent passions, he was yet not one to faint beneath the swift and fear- ful calamity that had overtaken him. The in- tense love that bad been as life to him for so many years instantly curdled in his heart to all, and every other feeling was swallowed up y and merged in a desire for revenge that was as boundless as the sea, Nothing else woul ys the ay ge of his nature—nothing élse cool the white heat of his temper. So absorbed was he in this that he forgot, or at least mpected, for a time, the sad rites due to the dead—forgot that the forms of those he had idolized were lying unburied near—the sor- rowing stars shining down upon four mangled corpses, k ‘ All through the long, bitter night he remained scarcely regarding and yet unconsciously keep- ing watch over them, with the wolves (that had scented the blood from afar) howling in the vicinity—sat brooding and pasning revenge, and almost cursing the morning for long delay- ng coming. : ut the very first of dawn aroused him from his. semi-stupor, and he stared wildly from one dear face to another, lifted each by turn,,kissed » the cold clay lips, and called upon them to wit- ness (as he had done Heaven) the dedication of heart, brain and strength to a matchless ven- geance. Then, with a face wherein sorrow and stern purpose struggled for the mastery, he arose, sought and found the proper implements, and began digging a grave sufficiently large to en- tomb all. To one of so muscular a frame it was not a difficult task, and yet the light had grown dis- tinct before it was accomplished, and he com- menced preparing the corpses (in the best man- ner his limited means permitted) for burial. But even as he was doing so, the step of a horse caused him to pause, and glancing up hastily he saw a Mbt gua who had re- cently settled in a neighboring town, and with whom he had formed an unusual intimacy, rid- ing toward him, ' “Hello!” shouted the visitor, as he was issuing from the woods, ‘“Hel!o, Benvett, ’m most mighty glad I struck your clearing; have been wandering in the infernal woods all night and— Great God! what does this mean?” . . He sprung from his tired horse, and stood aghast at the scene that was resented to hin. “Not a word, Guy Oliver!” was the stern an- swer. “I have fought i, a my heart for weary hours for fear of unnerved, and now your tears will undo.all. I must be a man!” : ‘‘Man? This is enough to cause one to forget all of humanity and become a fiend,” and the young physician, familiar as he was with scenes of blood in hospitals and even upon a few battile- fields, trembled like one of the maple-leaves in the fresh breeze of morning: — - sf “And 1f I become one, who but God shall judge me?” was the pitiful question, __ ‘Not I, my friend; and by my — hand, you shall not go alone upon the trail of ven- geance. I have neither kith nor kin in the wide world, at least that I know of, and I wife and—” see ‘For the Jove of Heaven, silence!” r. The sufferings of the wifeless husband and childless father were terrible to even look upon, and with a wildly-beating beart mal Oliver assisted him to arrange the corpses in their last resting- to cover.with branches, and sar and bark, to replace the’earth and soil—to buil loved your | a huge fire over them to keep the wolves from digging up the remains, feeling that if they were not soot hidden from sight Roger Bennett would become a maniac. ; Not a single word was spoken until all was finished and they had turned away and were about to enter the woods. Then the bereaved man paused, as if for a last look, and said, in a husky voice: : “‘Guy, would you know the place again, even if years were to pass before coming hither?” Why?” “IT may want to come, and die and be buried there, for that grave contains my all upon this earth—ob, Heaven, my all!” “Stay. I will prepare myself so that I can find it at any time.” He drew out a small compass from bis saddle- bags, stepped back to the new-made grave, took observations and measurements to a couple of trees, marked them carefully, entered the result in a memorandum-book, copied it, tore out the leaf and handed it to his mourning friend, and continued: ‘“Now.any one can find the sacred spot that has the slightest knowledge of surveying. Come home with me, Bennett. You need rest, The fearful night through which you have passed ao , produce sickness, if you are not very care- ul. : ‘Me rest? Man, man! what are you talking about! I have sworn to know nothing about rest or sleep—have a life work to do, and woe to him who attempts to stay me from it.” “Far be that from me.- On the contrary I have said I would with you—and I will. But, both of us ni preparation—arms, am- munition, food. We cannot go thus empty- handed into the wilderness—to fight an entire race. , ‘You are right—right,” was the sad reply. ‘‘1t must be as you say—and I will go with you. But, once upon the trail, nothing, so help me Heaven, shall stop me—nothing but death!” “¢ Amen.” Two days given to rest and preparation, and without any notice to his friend, Roger Bennett slipped away upon the trail of vengeance that was soon to make his name a wonder and a ter- ror to the red-man, from the Mississippi to the rock-ribbed sierras! CHAPTER II. THE FIRST BLOW. THE morning of the third day after the mur- dered family had been buried, and just as the light was beginning to streak the eastern sky, @ man was kneeling amid the ashes that covered the newly-mase grave. He had been there, bad remained motionless from midnight, save as now and then heraised his hands in supplication or shook his clinched fists in menace at an un- seen enemy. In stature he was above six feet; with lorg black hair, a face that once might have been pleasant to look upon, but was now the very in- carnation of fierceness; restless eyes that sbot forth fire at the slightest noise; a form molded for exertion and endurance; broad shoulders, deep, round chest, and remarkably sinewy and well-finished limbs, and bearded lips that ap- peared to have lost the power of smiling. It was Roger Bennett, but so strangely alter ed within the last few days, that those who knew him best would bave been_very likely to have him asa stranger. But something of this was without doubt owing to his dress. He had discarded everything that told of civili- zation save only the high y wrought, five} finished and latest improved weapons. His rments now consisted of the customary hunt- ing-shirt and leggins adopted by trappers, made from the toughest deer skin, and in place ofa bat he had bound ascarlet sasb around his head, with the ends hanging behind, which added an additional fierceness to his at all times strik- ing eppeqrance. ; ‘ : “May God help me to ever keep my oath in mind,” he muttered, with strange, wild savage- ness, as he at length arose from the ground; ‘never permit me to forget it, for even a single instant—let nothing tempt me from it, and help me to Cmny it out tothe uttermost limit. Oh, for the first scalp to tell that the hour of my re- og <i commenced !” ‘ ollow-cheeked, and with eyes that burned with the baleful light of at least partial insanity, the man started’to his feet and looked around upon every side. He was a skillful woodsman, | the ground, he crept as § shelter of the timber, some unusual sound had attracted his atten- ion. He had always been noted as a most suc- cessful hunter, and now that he bad become a hunter of men, his motions were ten-fold as crafty and noiseless, and without rising from wiftly as a disturbed might have done, to the d al oe ee eo and crouehed amid the underbrush. oer A very short time convinced him that it was not an Indian as he had ‘suspected. A deer wandered from the cover, looked around with its proud head erect, and then dashed away un- harmed. He bad no bullets for-such game. That which be hunted was of a far differ- ent nature, and he an searching for their trail, almost cursing himself that he had been so long delayed by listening to the advice of bis friend. The swooping of the Indians had evidently been long premeditated and carefully carried out. The trail was well hidden, and where cir- cumstances had forbidden that to be done, was so confused that the most skillful and trained eye would have been at fault, both as to num- \
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bers and the direction they intended to travel. Not long, however, did the sternly-determined man pause to consider. Thought would’ bave resulted in insanity—action was his only safety. “The red wolves burrow in the ground in all parts of the prairie, and hide in the rocks in every portion of. the mountains,” he muttered, and marking the course of the sun, he struck and followed a western trail, not to be turned aside by any obstacle. His impatience had led him to believe that he would not be very long in finding food for his vengeance, but in thet he was very much disappointed. All day long he tracked the wil- derness of prairie, threaded the tangled sloughs, crept through the fastnesses of the wild woods, without finding any thing that in the least tended to gratify his malice, and as the night was slowly gathering around again, he began to give way to despair, and uncommon fatigue claimed its due reward of rest. He flung himself upon the hard ground; ate of the food he had brought with him; drank from a little thread of a stream that stole its silvery way amid the mossy banks, and for a time was unconscious to all that was passing around. But man with such a volcanic fire burning in his heart and brain can never know long-continued repose, and before the first watch of the stars was over, he was again upon his feet, and with his face turned westward, still plodding on. ~ ; Out from the timber, where his brief halt bad been made, into the prairie; through its long, tangled grass to a enone stream; plung- ing amid the cold waters to the opposite side; up a steep bank; into another belt of woodland, he continued, aad then he suddenly paused and became as rigid as if bis frame had been molded of iron. The sharp, shrill neighing of a horse rung clearly out upon the night air, sounding strange- ly familiar to him, and his movements were quickened until he could plainly see the form of the noble animal standing out in bold relief against the dark background. Then he paused, reflected, and very soon came to a conclusion. The first glance satisfied him that the horse was one of his own—the very one he had fancied and depended upon the most—a swift and tire- less runner, whom he had en os trained. That he was separated from and calling to bis mates he was also convinced, but was puzzled to find him in s» lonely a place, and evidently away from any camping-ground. ‘Yet pleasure at finding him was for the time more powerful than any other emotion, and he was about to step forward, release him and mount, when a stirring in a neighboring thicket recalled him toa sense of his own danger, and drawing back, he prepared his weapons for immediate use. In an instant after, a young warrior stepped out into the moonlight, and the white man saw that he was ignorant of bis presence, and ehoking down his revenge, he waited to ascertain what he was doing there, and learn something, if possible, of the location of the rest of the tribe. With the strange habit of his race, even at his years, and they could scarcely have been twenty, the Indian looked cautiously upon mae tf side and listened long and eagerly. Evi- dently he was upon the watch—waiting for the coming of some one, and yet fearful the meet- ing would be discovered. But at length he ap- ared satisfied, and placing his fingers to his ips imitated to perfection the quavering cry of the wild turkey when summoning ‘the flock around him. rice it was repeated—then an- swered at a distance, and soon a young squaw came cautiously from the denser part of the woods and stood by his side, “The Fawn comes when its mate calls,” she said, taking the hand of the warrior and look- ing up into his fac> with affection and trust. » “It igs well,” he replied, though without the slightest return of her caresses. ‘‘ Where are the people of the red-man?” ‘In the valley where tke great waters run to the south.” : ‘*Has the Manitou of slumber closed their eyes?” No. stolen from the pale-fuce and dividing his goods.” ‘* But the elder braves did not get all,” he an- swered, with acunning smile. ‘* When the great wigwam ofthe pale-face was blazing and roar- ing like a prairie fire, and the knife and hatchet were dripping with blood—when every soul was intent upon plunder—I fcund these and brought them to her who is to fill my lodge, be my wife, dress my venison and make my moccasins,” Tbrowing aside his blanket, he showed, glit- prabos Fone = his dark, broad breast, a chain and some littie trinkets of gold, that the watching / They ere feasting upon the cattle |’ heart. he Scalp King. man recognized as having been his wedding gift to his wife. Instantly bis rifle wasraised. But he knew that he must restrain his flery rage yet for a time if he boped to obtain information that would inure to his future success. Yet he trembled violently—so distinctly could he hear the beating of his own heart, that he feared the others would do the same, and pressed his hand heavily upon it to still its beatings. With a cry of exceeding joy the girl transfer- red the shining baubles to her own neck. To her eyes there was more of wealth in them than all the mines of India could contain, and her happiness was’ greatly augmented when her lover drew from his pouch some rings, say- ing: “These Black Wolf tore from the fingers of the little ones as they lay gasping in death. The blood of the pale-face pappooses that is yet clinging to them will make them doubly dear.” She took them—examined them ¢ itically, at- tempted to place them A her fingers, laughed at their petiteness, and, having alsostrung them upon the chain, asked: “Ts this all?” ** What more could Black Wolf bring her?” ‘© What! no scalp!” she almost sighed. ‘No scalp! The young brave comes back from his first war-path and brings noscalp to hang in his wigwam, and no long silken hair to fringe his leggings.” ‘There were elder and—” “ Better warriors! For shame.” ‘But the chiefs.” ‘* What shall I say when the girls of the tribe taunt me and say that my brave has a coward heart—that his knife is dull and he is afraid of blood?” ‘Say that—” “*My ears are deaf,” She was about to turn reproachfully away from him when she saw that he had been deceiv- ing her—that the dearest gift of all had been kept to the last. ; rom beneath the blanket, where he had safe- ly carried it, the young savage drew a fresh scalp. The blood apon it was yet scarcely dried, and as he held it up before her dancing eyes the soft hair streamed down in a nut-brown shower, almost reaching the ground, and the white man shrunk back shuddering — was almost blinded with tears—as the terrible fate of his eldest daughter was again thrust upon him. But be set his teeth likethe jaws of a vise— choked down his br ath and yet waited. The black-hearted fiend towhom murder was but a pastime, notwithstanding bis few years, and the equally savage girl, were both in his power, and with something of the passions of the feline race, be took pleasure in toying with them, be- fore crushing. And yet the strain upon his nerves was terrible, almost more than his iron will could bear—bis face as blanched and rigid as that of acorpse, and nothing but the fearful ordeal of the past few days enabled him to do so—nothing but the mighty determination to carry out his oath! It was not very long; however, that he could thus restrain himself—would have been con- trary to human nature had he done s0,and every moment that was consumed in the examination and discussion of the scalp appeared to him as days of the most bitter torture. * When the brave,” returned the squaw, ‘“has titen five more like this he can claim a place in the council-lodge, and his name will be sung by the great Medicine of the tribe. ‘‘Yes,” he replied moodily, as if the time of honor was yet very far distant. ‘*And may yet become a chief?” ‘Yes. But the Fawn will not wait until that time to become his wife?” ‘*Why not?” she questioned with the charac- teristic coyness of her sex, even though at the same time looking up proudly to him. ** Because it may yet be a. winters away. She must remember that this is his first scalp.” ‘* AND MINE!” thundered the white man, as rifle and pistol were discharged, and he sprung like a panther leaping for its prey upon them, with his drawn knife in hand. ; With fiendish exultation that but a few days previous would have been entirely foreign to his nature, Roger Bennett watched the girl writh- ing in agony. She was stretched upon the ground beside her lover, to whom death must have come instantly, for the bullet had cleft bis Perchance there might even then some- thing of pity have crept into his soul had not ber trembling fingers still clutched the soft tresses of his murdered darling, for he was only in the novitiate of blood. But that sight made him as remorseless as the cub-robbed bear or the stary- ing wolf—and almost before the spirit of the 38 squaw had gohe upon the mysterious journey to the bappydinsthen eroente she bad been taught to believe was the heaven of ber race, her scalp was circled by the sharp knife, torn away and hung blood-dripping by that of her dark lover. They were the first victims sacrificed upon the altar of vengeance, that would yet be almost buried beneath bleaching bones and skulls, and the bein man trembled as a terrified little child would have done when he looked upon the work of his own hands. He had yet to be fearfully educated up to the standard of devilish indifference to human suf- fering, even though he gave the deed no thought as to murder and looked upon it in the light of a holy action—one that would be justified and even applauded in the courts of the other world. But the die orice cast and the first natural feelings overcome, he was once again himself and began coolly calculating what was the next best thing to be done to carry out the life to which he had devoted himself—how he could most effectually strike terror to the hearts of the Indians—make them sbudder even at his name—fiee at his coming and make bis path of gory revenge easy. e little he had heard, coupled with his knowledge of the country, satistied him where the encampment of the Indians was to be found, and that it was not distant, and having disen- tangled the long hair from the death grasp of the squaw, and buried the precious scalp, he se- cured the chain and appendages and placed them next to his heart—there to be worn until its beatings should cease. - Then he compelled the startled horse to submit to the burden of the corpses—mounted behind them—rode carefully forward until be came very near to the spot where the Indians were making merry over their plunder; then swinging aloft the blood-dripping scalps of the Indian girl and her lover, be dashed at headlong speed through the village, with yells such as they had never be- fore heard uttered by mortal lips—scattered all before him-- flung the mutilated bodies into the middle of a circle of warriors, and was away, swift as light, before any could recover from their surprise. It was a terrible alarm to the cowardly ard superstitious red-men—they magnified him into a giant, and with one voice proclaimed bim THE Scoaup Kine! _ CHAPTER III. THE WRESTLE FOR LIFE. NEVER had the red-man been more alarmed— never could they be than when the ye King swept like an avenging Manitou through their village and dashed down the dead and scalped hodies of the young warrior and the squaw. If the earth had suddenly opened and swallowed them—if the sky bad rained fire—they could not have been more so. Dumb with the shock—some of them cried with grief—they sat speechless—sat gathered in groups around their fires—trembling at every sound, and momentarily expecting the return of their Nemesis, until the rising of the sun somewhat reassured them and they could reason logically enough te determine that it was but the desperate undertaking of a single man— that their dead bad keen surprised in the forest, and that it was not the Matcha Manitou or one or his attendants, \ The horse most certainly was not a spirit one. The footprints could be plainly seen, and some of their number could even show the marks of his iron-shod hoof where he had trampled them down. And so, by degrees, as they became more possessed, many recognized the man him- self, and understood, in his actions, a plain, and to them natural revenge for the burning of bis home and the killing of bis wife and children. But the very deed he had been so successful in accomplishing proved to them that he was no common enemy—was one that would scruple at nothing, and that it behooved them to be con- stantly upon their guard against being surprised, for might he not return at any instant? The gray heads pondered over this—the youn shrunk behind the covering of the wigwams, a scouts were dispatched in every direction, and swift runners sent to search and report as to the double killing of the previous night. This the were not long in doing. Even before. the whil- ing populace were prepared for the message, they came back bearing with them the scalps, which they had found suspended to the limb of a tree, and the braves gathered and questioned as to what manner of man he could be who would thus leave the trophies of victory bebind. This, however, they found to be the rule, for runners hurried back from the direction in which he had disappeared, with like ghastly
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oe records of death, until the two had increased to half a dozen, and even the most lion-hearted of the brawny warriors began to feel anxious for the safety of their own. But rendered brave by numbers, even as are the wolves when crowding around the dying buffalo that once had been the monarch of the — they boldly talked of what they would when they met him, and how quickly they would take his trail and return with his scalp rem to their belts. “‘He is but a man!” sneered the old Medicine, who by virtue of his office, and Lis years, was exempt from war, and consequently bad no fear of being summoned to undertake any thing of danger; ‘‘and are you not the same? He is nothing but a pale-face dog! Had not the snows of nearly a hundred winters been sifted upon my hair, and stiffened my sinews until they have become stiff. and knotted as the oak the sun should not go down before his head should lie low in the dust, and his black heart be roasting in the fire.” ‘My brother speaks well,” replied the chief, though even he as yet made no movement, ‘* He must be hunted,” continued the old Med- icine, warming with the subject, ‘‘ with a tire- less vengeance—permilted no rest either by night or day. Have my brothers suddenly be- come cowards? But yesterday they were loud in their boasting that they would sweep tbe from their hunting-grounds even as the winds of winter do the dry leaves,” “He shall die!” . ‘* But how and when? Will the red man wait until bis path is marked by blood and the sealps he has en outnumber the beaver-skins of the best hunter? Will they wait until their wives and children are butchered as the wolf-driven deer —every head is bowed in grief and there is mourning in every wigwam? Are ye men? Or has the Evil Spirit changed you all into cowardly, trembling women?” “The warriors will take the trail of ven- nee,” commanded the chief, ashamed of their hesitation. ‘‘ Let them go as silently as the serpent, and their coil be as strong and their sting as Lape t” To win such a scalp would have been glory enough for a lifetime for such men, but thoy knew thé undertaking was one of uncommon danger, and prepared for it as they had never done before. nd few were emulous to go alone. They appreciated to the full the motto that in union there is str ngth, and the great majority chose rather. to hunt in couples or small bodies than alone. But the great war-chief, Wah-pe hab-a-shik, or Big Elk, bad nerved himself to the point of fight- ing the battle single-handed. He was the giant of the tribe—noted for uncommon strength—could bring a buffalo bull tumbling to its knees by a single blow of his iron fist—was more than a match for any two in wrestling—wielded as if it had been a feather, a battle-ax that could eeareny be lifted by tbe majority, and never yet had met bis equal in a hand-to hand struggle, ‘*Let the red-men hunt in packs like saan ng wolves,” he hissed, from between his huge tusk- like teeth, when questioned of bis purpose. ‘‘I go alone! When the dog of a pale-face sees me, even from afar, he will tremble and for his miserable life. When the horns of the Big Elk are bent in wrath, nothing can stand before them. He takes the trail of war, and when he comes back be will have the pale face tied as a prisoner to bis horse’s tail, or his scalp will be swinging at his saddle-bow and his body be hurled to the vultures as food.” But notwithstanding all this bravado—and no race more than the Indians is famous for it—he took exceeding care in the pen ration of his weapons and to paint his hal Piaked body in the most terrible manner—streaking bis black skin with white until it resembled a skeleton and bis head until it looked like a grinning skull, in order to strike terror into the heart of bis enemy. The scouts had tracked the white man to a lone mountuin in the vicinity. Wearied by the se- vere toil and intense excitement of the previous night, he had found it necessary to seek some place where he could rest in comparative se- curity, and the mountain offered the best possi- ble retreat. ' It arose in the center of a prairie plain, with one side cut bald and stern from the very top- most layer to the foundation-stone, and afforded a rare look-out; had a broad, open plateau upon the top—the very‘place for his own safety and his enemies’ harm. Conecealing his herse some distance in a huge gap or a sort of cave in the hill, where it would require minute search to discover him, the .| emergency, The Scalp King. wearied man had stretched himself, and had for a time slept the heavy sleep of exhaustion. Nothing came to disturb him, and when the morning dawned again all was as tranquil as if there was neither bloodshed, suffering or death in the world. And as he lay listlessly watching the ever-moving panorama of nature, the green billows of grass waving like the ocean, and the leaves of the forest breathing and fluttering a never-ceasing psalm, he suddenly became aware that the Indians had gathered in full force be- low and had discovered his hiding-place. This gave him no uneasiness. A smile of sat- isfaction almost broke the stern lines of his lips as he seized his rifle, whose deadly range they appeared to be inclined to tempt, for ever and anon one dasbed forward upon his well- broken horse, circled around out of long gun- shot, and then waving his hands tauntingly would retire again. “That may be tried once too often,” growled the watcher, as he somewhat shifted his ground —turned his back more to the sun, so that it would not dazzle his eyes—raised the sights of his weapon for a greater range and waited an- other approach. — : Soon a young chief, eager to show his bravery, his perfect horsemanship and to win a name, darted forward, paused and shouted his ery of battle and defiance. But that pause was suffi- cient for the sounding of his death-knell. With a groan of anguish he fell backward; the affrighted horse sprung from under him, and another corpse was hurled to the ground. The Indians now drew still further away; then they surrounded the chief, talked loudly and gesticulated frantically. And thus matters ned for bours, when a faint crackling of dry branches caught bis ears. He was instantly upon his feet and saw that the opportunity he had longed for was brought to his very door— that revenge worthy of his soul was open to him—if he could compass it. The great war-chief of his enemies was at but a little distance, painted in the most fan- tastic manner possible and armed to the teeth! For a few moments the two men stood re- garding each other and measuring strength. ‘‘T am Wah pe-hah-a-shik, the ig Elk,” said: the Indian, striking bis breast proudly, ‘‘And therefore your scalp will be of more value to me,” replied the white man, as if the matter was already decided, ‘“‘ Let the pale-face get it—if he can!” was the sneering retort. ‘‘I bave come alone on_his trail, to take him with my own hands, and drag him like a dog to the village.” ‘ Then the tomahawk of the Indian was whirled so suddenly, swiftly, and with such ac- curate aim that, despite the instantaneous movement of thé bead of his antagonist, a heavy lock of his black hair was shorn away and scattered in threads upon the ground. The white man, with a fierce cry, rushed upon the chief, and they became inter.ocked as with bands of iron, : For once the Herculean savage had found his equal both in strength and cunning—in mighty will and im reckless daring—one who was in vo sense his rival. Wounds were given and taken such as would have made the weak-hearted grow faint, witb- out the slightest notice being taken of them. It was a battle of giants. It was blow for blow and strength for strength; subterfuge against subterfuge and daring opposed to daring; un- flinching eye to ag eye, and every de- vice known to Indian and Indian-fighter. Suddenly the Indian dropped upon his knees, and by the exertion of his immense strength, coupled with the advantage he had gained, be threw his antagonist over his head and caused ‘bim to measure his length upon fat ae The breath was almost knocked out of his body; he was momentarily stunned. With a whoop of victory the chief instantly rushed forward. But, ready for even that dire at the moment the Indian was about to throw himself on him, the Scalp King’s feet were raised, and hesent him backward howling with pain, Upon his feet again ina moment, again they rushed together, and the hand-to-hand struggle was renewed with more ferocity than before, if such a thing was possible, Reuewed, contin- ued, until both were scant of breath; their iron museles trembled, their footing became an- steady, great streams of sweat were relling down from brew and body, and something of the fiery light began te fade from their flashing eyes, y _ Then again the wily savage resorted to strat egy—the same almost as before, but not with so definable a resuli, The white man was only thrown to a distance, and was uninjured. Pausing for a moment to recover bis breath be- fore crushing his enemy at a single knife-blow the whoop upon the savage’s lips was only half uttered, and ended in a death-wail, for as he dashed forward he was met by a brace of swift- winged bullets from Bennett’s little bosom re- volver, and the red giant fell forward upon his face, pierced through the heart. The Scalp King wiped the heavy drops ot/ moisture from his brow—drew a long, deep breath, and listened. Then came action. First, sealping the dead chief, Bennett dragged the body to the brow of the cliff, hurled it down, tossed the valued lock of hair and little circle of skin after it, and shouted his never-to-be- forgotten cry of triumph and defiance! It was answered by yells of rage as the tribe comprebended what bad been done, and a hun- dred bows were bent, a hundred arrows vainly fired at the fori that stood as a statue of stone upon the bold summit of the mountain. Then they rushed forward en masse to capture him, and terribly avenge their fallen chieftain—sur- rounded the hill, explored it at every point, and found nothing to repay them for their labor, The Scalp King had as utterly disappeared as if he had vanished in the thin air! CHAPTER IV. SURROUNDED BY FIRE. From that day forward the Scalp King be- came a living terror. Though bunted from one fastness to another, the trail was literally strewn with dead, and scalps hung from many a bush. He seemed ubiquitous, for the scouts and runners reported him as being, at the same bour, in idee different places. The death- wail in the lodges became constant. Even the oldest warriors were seized with a dread of such power as their slayer appeared to possess. To fly from that fatal region was their now serious purpose, when one day a couple of young run- ners came in, reporting that they had discovered their dread enemy encamped on the verge of the great prairie, in open sight. Instantly all was commotion. To surround and capture him seemed an easy task, if he in- deed was there. Ascending the high bill over- looking the boundless plain, the chiefs bebeld the man and borse reposing on the still luxuriant but dry grass, not more than amileaway. They could scarcely repress the exultant shout which throbbed in their throats; but their decision was instantly made. To fire the grass to the wind- ward in an encompassing line was the order, and almost before the adventurous man was aware, be was literally framed in fire. As he was lying half-dreaming, the sharp, ter- rified snorting of his horse recalled him to a sense of danger, and, starting to his feet, he saw mat the dry herbage had been fired upon every side. “By Heaven!” he mutte:'ed, instantl; eompre- hending what had been doje and its ter sible con- sequences. ‘‘ My Heaven! I am hemmed in— surrounded! The red devils have fired the prairie at every point!” F The flames that had been kindled at hundreds of places among the rank and dry herbage, were, even as he spoke, leaping madly toward him from all sides; the black clouds of smoke rolled along before the flames like the waves of a great ocean, and the horrid whoops of the In- dians filled the air, Springing to his feet he mounted bis startled horse—gave him the rein and urged him for- ward toward the east, in the direct line of the wind, and into the rolling, sweltering columns of smoke until lost to every watching eye; then he dismounted and prepared to meet the flames that surged upward as if from the boiling ocean of hell! With rapid movements he tore away and cut his blankets to pon blindfolded his trembling steed, covered the mouth and nostrils, -vailed his own face, flung himself on again, headed directly for the bastion ef fire, drove the spur deep and dashed against the seemingly im- passable barrier. toe. The burning of a eity is as mere pastime for the flame-king to that which follows when thou- sands of acres are in a glow; when the fuel is over-dry for the resistless reaper, and the wind whistles, surges, hisses, rears and claps its hands for joy. The destruction of a forest is nearer to it, and yet tame, for it is confined within bounds, while the other disregards limits and leaps with more than panther bounds to shrivel up and ut- terly destroy. The prairie fire is the monarch of all conflagrations—the fearful sublimity that can only be matched by a burning world} The surging waves of living flame struck man and horse and hurled them backward! His hair crisped, crackled, shriveled into ashes—his flesh
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appeared to be burning—his dered, but to be lifted b the iron arm of the rider, not long survive so terrible an ordeal, and hu- man intellect will wander and turn to imbecility at last. Yet on—on like doom! Then the flames grew to be less scoreching—the air more cool—the blood boils less fiercely in his veins and about his heart. But even when hope—a faint, shadowy hope, was again springing up within his heart, the poor exhausted steed reels like a drunken man—totters and falls. No! yet once more his noble spirit answers the cheering call and the deeply driven spur of the rider. e springs for- ward, unconquered to the last—the flame surges backward—the black smoke is vomited behind— he has outridden the line of fire! «Thank God!” Never were the words more reverently and gratefully spoken than when he sprung or rather fell once more to tbe ground, tore the covering from both himself and steed and breathed something of pure air again. He is safe! He has beaten the tireless demon of the flames in its whirlwind race, The roaring of the fire-flecked tempest is behind—is a perfect safeguard against any who might attempt to follow. But his peril is not yet ended. The ground is bot as the forge of a black- smith, and as he stands gasping by the side of his panting steed and both are almost vainly trying to recover the use of their parched lungs, he sees before only a waste of burning death! To rest is to perish, and, walking by the side of his almost matchless horse, tears fill his eyes as be sees how much he has suffered—bow hair and even flesh bad been burnt away—-how the al- most sightles; eyes are turned toward him as. if claiming pity. d A moment's observation satisfied him that death would be mercy—that it must come— come at last, and only to be preceded by the most intense suffering; so drawing a pistol, _ heated so hot that he wondered it had not ex- ploded, he fired, and the noblest runner of the prairies lay quivering in death, Then again the wretched, scorched, blistered wreck of a man staggers forward—for one, two, three hours of agony. A most terrible thirst had then fastened upou, him, It is water or death! Faint and dizzy he still straggles on, urged by the instinct of self-preservation and the fierce, implacable vengeance which was sylabled.in bis oath, He must not die yet for bis work is only half done! The parched and biackened earth at lastswims around him, But, sudan, something seems grateful to_his numbed feet; another step forward and he falls into the bed of a little stream. ** Water, blessed heaven! water?” The cool waves momentarily cool his brain and make him forgetful of what be hus passed through, and a brief but beartful prayer of thanksgiving escaped from his now ckened and crisped and bleeding lips. When the fire had utterly ceased and the ground became cool enough to travel over with safety, the Indians scattered over the black plain in search of their late and dreaded enemy, and their keen eyes were net long in distinguish- ing the body of the borse, and at a little dis- tance portions of a blanket and buckskin bunt- ing shirt, and then charred bones that were easily recognized as once having belonged to a human bring. Then such a shout of rejoicing went up from their lips as never before had rung over the prairie. ay leaped, danced and sung with trantic delight, and in their insane malice gathered up the fragments that the fire had “ failed to consume and carried them to their camping-ground to prove that the Scalp King was no more. For several days succeeding, the Indians cele- brated the event by feast upon feist. First it was buffalo-feast; then antelope-feast: then bear-feast—all finally ending in the dog-feast, the most noted of all their revels. This con- tinued far into the morning of the fifth day after their enemy’s supposed destruction, when, sud- denly, their mirth was hushed, for from the mountain that frowned down upon them rung a strangely-familiar cry, and looking up they saw a giant form standing there, showering down curses, as it were, from uplifted CHAPTER V. THE DEAD RIDER. ‘ CunningG as the Indians fancied themselves to be, and well versed as they were in prairie and woodland life, they bad i to b. deceived. itted themselves A careful examination of the they were the bones of a man very much less in stature than him they sought. Bnt the certain identity of the horse had very much assisted to this end, and the fact that another wanderer might have been caught in the sea of fire, or that one of the victims of the white man might have been lying there, entirely escaped their minds. To this oversight the latter owed his safety, for in his helpless condition the most feeble band that could grasp a hatchet could have brained him, and the most anskilled with a knife bave eut away his scalp with impunity. Even when hidden but scantily in the willows and reeds that marked the winding path of. the little water-course, his ear had heard and com- poapanene their songs of rejoicing and nerved im to bear his sufferings without a murmur, The cries were the incentive to action. Making a pulp of the soft willow bark and the wild gentian root, he applied it to his blis- tered feet and limbs. A large snake which he found Repeats on the water’s edge he readily killed, his was skinned at once, and strips of its soft, tough hide were made to do perfect service as bandages and serviceable moccasins for his swollen feet. His weapons were safe. He had clung to them even in the last extremity, and would have been found, if at_all, with them tightly clinched in hishands, But the loss of his beauti- ful and faithful horse was a terrible calamity, and one that increased his dreams of and desire for vengeance—if there was anything upon earth that could do that. Upon himself, consequently, he must depend, at least for the present—at least until another horse could be procured that would carry him fast and far.. But before this could be accom- plished rest, relaxation from labor and excite- ment and much of care had to be resorted to— and he began reflecting upon the best place for hiding in security, This was most certainly to be found in the fastness of the mountain, and long before the feasting and rejoicing of the red man was at its hight be had lost bis trail amid the windings of the rocks. Convinced by his former explorations that a cave existed in the mountain, he now set about looking for it in earnest. If such a baunt could be found his safety was assured, and bis dread work could be consummated. At but a little distance from the spot where he had fastened his horse a small rift in the rocks caught his eye. It was easy of access, and very soon he stood within a rough passage, that soon terminated at a yawning chasm. Across that was what he readily determined must be the ante-chamber of a cavern of con- siderable dimensions, But that unfathomable pit was to be crossed before he could know any- thing of what was beyond it, It was too wide to leap, and it was hours before he had a nar- row bridge constructed that enabled him to pass in safety. Then far more than his most sanguine hopes were realized, for with the ever- lasting rocks at his back, and the wide gulf in front, he might langh at all the powers of the enemy to capture him. Satisfied of this, he crawled forth and gath- ered wood, and prepared to make himself com- fortable, and to pass the necessary hours in re- aining his strength and healing his wounds. e had only to withdraw the little bridge to insure his safety. ° Further explorations, however, attained a re- sult that astonisbed him, as it would others in the future. He found that the cave ended in a narrow, winding passage, that constantly tend- ed toward the top of the mountain, This he followed until a glimmer of light reached his eyes. Then labor became necessary to clear it sufficiently for his body to pass, and the loose rocks having been removed, he saw, to bis in- finite surprise, that it opened against the trunk of an immense tree, whose sap had been long dried up, and life lingered only in_ the out- ward husk of its thick skin and rough bark. It was a hollow, cylindrical chamber—a myste- rious door, as it were, to that gallery in tbe bill. o cut a rude pair of stairs within the trunk was not a very severe trial, and when he had reached and enlarged the opening above suf- ficiently to crawl through, he found a look-out that commanded a view for several miles—that he could see distinctly into the ordinary camp- ing-ground of the Indians. Dropping down to the ground, by means of its plentiful growth of stubby limbs, he stood npn the brow of the same precipice where be and the brawny war- chief Big Elk met. in the death-struggle. Then he rai himself to his utmost hight, shouted his cry ef vengeance, and stretching out his hands, called down curses npon those who bad wrecked him both in body and soul, Now most fully he realized that his power was unbioken, and climbing the tree he drop down, returned to the cave, and’ was about to stretch himself for the much-needed slumber when he chanced to remember that he had not withdrawn his bridge. To permit it to remain would be simply to invite the red-men to his lair. Hark! Was not that a stealthy step? And then a loosened stone dropped down in the chasm! Hastening forward to his bridge, by the faint moonlight that struggled in through the rifts, he discovered an Indian slowly traversing the one path that constituted bis only safeguard. Instantly his mind was made up, With tke leap of a panther and yell of a tiger, be sprung forward and met the intruder half-way. It was a fearful place for such an encounter—only a narrow and treacherous footing, and the sharp- popiem rocky bottom was hundreds of feet elow ! But as he bad sprung forward the intruder dropped upon his cnees, and the white man came very near being thrown over his head. And certainly it was more the result of accident than any wise calculation that saved him. One hand had fallen upon the throat «f his enem and the other upon the timber, Yet still h fate rested upon as slender a hair as ever upheld a man from doom, and a single energetic move- ment of his antagonist would have sent him as food for the wolves that had their dens below! But with the s of thought he recovered himself—obtained a firm position, and drove bis knife again and again into the breast of his appalled victim, who sunk back almost without a groan. So unresisting had the struggle been that no smile of satisfaction rested upon the face of the conqueror, and, filled with astonishment at the result, he drew the limp body after him into his retreat, removed the treacherous bridge, and taking a blazing brand from bis little fire began examining the curiously painted face o ths dead, . “Poor fool!” he muttered, as the wrinkled features of the Medicine-man were clearly re- vealed; ‘‘ poor fool! What could bave Lrought you here where it would have Leen dangerous for even the most hardy of your tribe to have ventured? But, it is all the same for vergeance, My oath was to spare neither the gray -headed nor the feeble infant, and it shall Le kept to the last extremity.” ' Without the slightest remorse he examined the dead form, and, baving satisfied himself that the Indian’s pvuch contained nothing of value, he placed the body in a sitting posture just outside of the cavern, and gave himseif up to rest. But bis dreams wandered in a very strange direction—his fancies became the very incarna- tion of all that was horrible in revenge. And so deeply were these things snenpes upon bis brain that, long before the dawn, he arcse, car- ried the corpse to the plain below—found the pony upon which tre old Medicine man hed traveled thither, my it rudely across, and started for the camp of the Indians, He paused when a little distance away; was busy for scme time; and then bis well-known cry rung in trumpet-tones, and startled alike the sleeping and the waking. From the ground where they bad lain—from the shelter of bark and skin covered wigwam, all sprung in alarm, and each, wih pale lips, questioned the other, Nothing had as yet been seen—nothing had been beard but tbe sound that ever proved a forerunner of something terrible, Then the steady tramp of a horse caught their ears. Steadily, nearer and yet nearer it came, and they drew back in awe. Was it the ghastly forms of the horse and rider that had been con- sumed in the burning prairie’ Had the great Manitou condemned him to wander thus forever over the earth? 2 Steadily the horse came toward them—came on until they could distinguish its form—could see that the rider was no other than the old Medicine, who (as they presumed) had been abroad mpen one of his midnight excursions and they began to vent their feelings of rage at being thus wantonly disturbed. But the horse kept on, and when it had reached a point where the hostily-lighted torches enabled them to notice every particu- lar. a great wail of horror rose from every lip, and they fled in amazement or flung themselves upon the ground in despair.
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6 It was the old, honored Medicine, but dead— pee and carrying his scalp in his own right and! At that moment another cry rung through the wilderness af woods, and they knew it was the dovilish work of one alone—that the flames had not destroyed the Scalp King! CHAPTER VI. A HUMAN THUNDERBOLT. THE strangest-—the most burning words would be powerless to convey any adequate idea of the feelings that found utterance in shrieks, groans and exclamations when the In- dians discovered the severe blow that had been struck in the death of the old Medicine, und still more so when they gazed upon the mode that had been adopted to inform them of and give rull force to it. Indeed it was a ghastly and soul-sickening sight—would have been under any circum- stances—that of a corpse mounted, riding slowly xlong—with the hair torn from its head—the skin slipped down in great wrinkles (as it ever does after such treatment), and the corpse car- rying its own gray-haired scalp in its hand! Nothing could have struck more terror to the very souls of the Indians. It was _ outdoing them in their own vocation of bestial horrors aad the dead rider would have passed on had not some of the most familiar with such scenes, prompted perhaps as much by curiosity as ven- eration, laid their hands upon the bridle, com- elled the slow, sigs pony to come to a alt, and relieved him of his ghastly and ghost- ly burden, Then the arts employed to keep the body in an upright position were plainly to be seen, and they learned a lesson they would not be slow to remember and practice upon their enemies on the first opportunity. ‘The chiefs and scarred warriors hastened to counsel together +s to what could be done to rid their nation of the most dreadful sccurge they had ever known, The bravest and strongest among them had fallen in single combat with their enemy; who now would proclaim bis willingness to take his scalp? Not a warrior among them all dared to register his vow! The head chief, as he filled, smoked and passed the great calumet from hand to hand, at length spoke: * Brothers: the black raven of death is spread- ing its wings over the hunting-grounds of the red man, and there is no one to stay its flight. Since the Great Spirit called them into being from the dust of the earth, there has never been anything like this. The arrows, though headed with the fire flashing flint—though steeped in the poison of tbe rattlesnake, are powerless to harm—the strongest wielded battle-ax becomes as a straw, and even the fire of the prairie that is more than the breath of the evil spirit when in wrath, passes him as uninjured as the breath of June. Brothers, I have spoken.” There was no response, The most fiery na- tures among all that dusky circle were silent. Again and again the chieftain looked around the circle for some one to suggest action; but all were dumb, and he was forced to continue: “Brothers: even while we are sitting idly here, the pale-faced avenger may be casting bullets that will take our lives, and sharpening the knife that will cut away our scalps. What shall be dove? Even now I can hear the sound of his voice as the thunder breaking from the black cloud, and the stamp of his horse’s feet, as he sweeps over the prairie, blighting every thing he touches, as the sting of the adder. Even now—may the Great Spirit of whites pre- serve us!” It appeared as if his words had the power to conjure up the very things they most of all dreaded, for with them came the rushing of the scattered multitude, bursting with the intelli- gente that, even while they were debating, the alp King bad been upon the oytskirts of their camping-ground and taken away the matchless black horse sacred to the riding of the great war-chief alone. ‘“* It cannot be,” was the response of every lip, but, even as they were uttering the words, they saw him riding swiftly away, and heard his shout of triumph as he disappeared in the di- rection of the mountain! Why could they not ambush him—surround him? It was the one thing to do, and while the women and children remained at the encamp- ment and made as great a show as possible, the warriors crept in various directions, intent upon forming a living cordon around the little m n. ently as the pba or i: re shadows they crept along scarcely disturbing the tall The Scalp King. ss or making a rustle in the dry leaves. ever could night-prowling serpents have been more noiseless — never could wildcat have sneaked with less to mark its way toward the destined victim. There was notbing to tell of their progress, save it might now and then have been the sudden scampering away of some af- ae rabbit, and the screaming, circlin flight of the black vultures who snuffed bloo even from afar. But, did not be for whom all these prepara- tions were made know anything of them? Had he suddenly become both blind and deaf? Was he entirely absorbed in the horse he had cap- tured by his daring to fill the place of the one that had been swept away by the demon of the flames?’ A more noble animal it would have been very difficult to have found. Noted as a runner of the prairie, he had been captured by strategy— half trained, and stood in all his glory of wav- ing mane, sweeping tail, glossy hide of inky blackness, save only a snowy star in his fore- head; eye of fire, unbroken courage, step that seemed to scorn the dust he scattered, and, un- matched in strength, muscle and endurance, the very steed for a warrior or for one com- pelled to fly for his life. Fully impressed with these things—rejoiced that fate should have been thus kind to bim— the Scalp King stood by the side of his noble steed, caressing and making friends, when his attention was suddenly attracted by the strange flight of the birds, and, after a few moments of hesitation, correctly read the cause, ‘‘The scum of the earth!” he almost hissed, with the vindictiveness of a provoked serpent. “There is none of them—no not one—who would dare to meet me in single combat. The fate of their great war-chief and miserable Medicine has turned them into the meanest of cowards, and the best blood of their bearts into water. And they think to surround me—to rush in from every side—human wolves adopt- ing the plan of the less savage ones whose holes tunnel the prairie and whose dens are bid in the rocks—to rush in and crush me by the power of numbers! It might be so—might be so—-but, Heaven preserves me. My oath is not yet fulfilled. I must live—must live!” Yet, for all his words of caution, a very dan- gerous light flashed from his eyes ashe watched the course of his enemies. From the hight upon which he stood there was no difficulty in this, and his lips curled’ with ineffable scorn, and his nostrils expanded with pride as he thought how very sure his strong arm would mow a path through to safety. Should he do it? Would the game pay for the risk? Might not a chance shot put an end to his career? Might 1.0t his scalp be the for- feit for trying to gain numbers of others? A still more dangerous light rayed out from his eyes, and his lip curled still more with scorn as these things flasbed upon his mind. Was he who had won the terrible title of the Scalp King afraid of the very ones be sought to de- stroy? Wasit not his purpose to make them tremble even when his battle-cry was borne to their ears from afar upon the wings of the night-wind—to drive them before him even as the long-leaping panther drives the timid deer? At once his purpose became fixed, and notb- ing but death could change it—that and that alone put an end to his career! He looked to his weapons—saw that none would fail bim in the hour of need—drew from the folds of his hunting-shirt a stout thong— fastened it to the handle of the huge battle-ax he bad taken from the dead giant chief, and still retained as a trophy of victory—secured it around his waist, and boldly rode toward the circle of skulking warriors—rode as if he knew not of their presence—though with every sense upon the alert. Those who were the nearest drew back and hid themselyes—permitted him to pass. It was not their intention to make themselves known until he was entirely within their toils—until the dark circle could close around him from every portion of the circumference to the cen- ter—until they could consolidate their forces upon.a single point and utterly cut off all chance of escape. Proudly the horse pranced forward, fretting at curb and’ rein, champing the bit and tossing specks of foam backward over his glossy raven hide and mane, curling as the fringes of a mid- night cloud. And proudly sat the rider, with defiance stamped upon every feature—one hand checking the impatient steed, and the other gresping his battle-ax. P But, so still was the prairie—so hushed the wind—so silent had become the birds, that the “S ringing hoof of the courser appeared to be an almost impious sound. Silent—silent as the long-used abode of the dead—siient as that ‘“dreary desolation—a country raveyard!” Then; as if all the fiends of hell bad been sud- denly let loose upon a holiday, there arose upon every side hideously painted forms and the most terrible shrieks that ever were permitted to frighten the fair face of nature and disturb her repose, Half a thousand warriors leaped from the darkness of concealment, into tle broad blaze of open day, and with a sin ul- taneous and well-directed movement, closed upon him, leaving no single loop-hole unpro- tected by arrow, knife, tomahawk or club. Still there was no change in the attitude of the Scalp King—still he rode coolly forward, expecting that the air would be momentarily filled with feathered shafts. But it was not to be so, and in the fact he read their determina- tion to take him slive, even though it cost one- balf their tribe! Yet would he wait until there was an absolute certainty of the programme being carried out—would he not strike a single blow for liberty and revenge? To any uninterested looker-on it would have appeared so fora time. Then, and even as tbe dark line of human demons was drawing ver near to him, he raised himself, shouted his terrible battle-cry, wheeled his fiery borse and drove bim forward with the rapidity almost of lightning, while his heavy battle-ax whirled around bis bead as if it had been but a play- ba oe to any who should feel its blows? The few who were desperate enough to attempt to witbstand his progress were hurled back with skulls crushed ss if they had been but egg-shells, It was the career of a Cemon man upon a demon horse. Once through the circle that had been no more to keep him back than if it had been the slender silken thread spun by the tiny garden spider from flower to flower, he wheeled, darted hither and thitber—erushing all, sparing pone, until, tired with the blood astime, he gave bis horse the rein, and wit incredible speed regained the fastnesses of the mountain. It had been as the swoop of the vulture, and the dead and dying were ve ae every side! But not scathless had the bold, strong man come forth from the battle. More than one wound told that, even though overawed an@ trampled down, the worms had not been entirely stingless. There was an arrow-head here—the marks of knife and batchet there, and as he sat upon his lofty lookout, and watched the Indians as they removed the wounded, it was next to impossible for him to keep moans from breaking the stern lines of his lips. He had indeed conquered, but it might be that he would be the Scalp King no more. CHAPTER VIL. THE AVENGER'S ANSWER. Wirn all possible speed the Indians buried their dead, gathered their few articles of value, and fled to join’ another portion of the tribe, whose camping-ground was at a little distance —some half-a-dozen miles—and situated upon the bank of a large river. They believed, and not without good reason, that now if ever would be their best opportunity to do so without molestation—that their seem- ingly irresistible enemy could not bave escaped without wounds, and he would be in no condi- tion to follow. And yet, even while still in sight, a great flame arose from their camping- ground, and very soon all that bad hitherto sheltered them'was in ashes. Their village had been consumed! Well they realized that the flames had been started and fed and guided by the band of the Scalp King! And yet when the flames were at their fiercest, they were certain they saw him seated upon the lone rock, with bis bands up- raised as if Spreng to the Great Spirit— would have testified that they heard his voice both at the fire and upon the mountain and at the same moment! , Believing that he would not be disturbed in his stronghold, Bennett now gave himself up to rest and recruiting, and even sloth for a season. Calm must always follow storm in life as it does in nature. Still he was never entirély off his guard—never ceased to fortify the cavern, which might yet many times stand between him and death, and made every preparation to stand a siege should he be driven there and watched by numbers. By dint of extreme patience he had construct- ed another and a better bridge, and learned his horse to cross it, so that he could keep him con- stantly under biseye. He had also taught bim
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to come at his whistle, to lie down and remain almost motionless; in fact, everything that a true Western hunter would consider of the slightest use in his dangerous calling. This had been a labor of love as well as of safety, and the noble animal responded to all his care and attention, and loved and followed him with even more than brute homage and fidelity. But the rest he had fancied was not to be en- tirely unbroken. One day, as he was returning from a short expedition, he saw the figure of a man slowly climbing the rocky path that led to his retreat, and, filled with astonishment, raised his rifle to fire, when it Lag disappeared behind a wooded point, and, do what he might, he could see nothing of it again. Was he haunted by the ghost of some one he had murdered? The thought filled him with horror. If so, might not his every step be dog- ged in the same manner? Might they not stand in his path by day and crowd around his pillow by night? It was a subject that he did not like to dwell upon, and he hastened home to be out of the way of the fast-gathering twilight. He had left bis bridge down so as to recross it, and as he did so he became aware that some- body had been before him—that his cave was already occupied! It must be by an enemy, and another battle was imminent. Traversing the bridge with all possible speed, he saw that his visitor was making himself strangely at home—had kindled a fire and was cooking, and was commenting upon the situation. ‘‘T wonder what sort of a devil’s den I have got into?’ be said, as he filled and lighted a pipe. “If it is here that Bennett harbors, he must have a lonely time, even though be has everything his own way, like old Robinson Cru- soe, The voice recalled the past. It rushed upon bis memory like a spring -time flood, and rushing forward he clasped the intruder in his arms, and murmured, in a broken, choking voice: “Guy, Guy Oliver!” “Yes,” replied the young physician, as he shook himself clear and returned the warm pressure of the hand that was wringing his arm; ‘yes, it’s I. But you needn’t crush me entirely in your bear’s hug. Sit down, old fel- low, and let us talk over matters.” “Wait. My enemies are as the leaves of the forest, and I know not of their coming.” He hastened to withdraw the bridge, stopped to command his feelings by the excuse of seeing to the comfort of his horse, and then, taking a place by his unexpected friend, asked: “ How did you find me, Guy?” “Easily enough. Tbe reputation of the Scal King has penetrated to the settlements, and, putting this and that together, [ made up my mind who this Scalp King was. This done, I struck out for his haunts, and here I am!” “Tt was very kind—but—” “There is to be no ‘buts’ about it. I don’t presume I have beard a hundredth part of what you have been doing, but I have heard enough to satisfy me that you have kept your oath in a most fearful manner.” ‘“No,” was the hoarse’reply. ‘I have scarce- ly begun to keep it—can never do so until death absolves me.” “This is simply madness. Now, Bennett, my S's friend, listen to me and weigh well what say. It is true I am a oe man than you, but I believe my head is clearer on this subject. I promised to help you in this devilish work—pardon me, but I can call it by no milder name—and probably would have done so had you not stolen away and given me time for se- rious reflection. Then I saw not only the folly, but the wickedness of it, and—” “ Hush! Heaven has blessed and protected me, has smiled upon my every effort, and conse- quently there can be nothing of wickedness about it.” P “'That’s all moonshine. But, ite long do you intend to continue this bl work?” “ Until I die!” “And that will not be very long. I learned pg bd of the Indians to be convinced that they are determined to come in a great body. sur- round this place, and eiter starve you out or shoot you in case you make any attempt at es- cape ‘Let them try it!” was the stern exclama- tion. . “That they will certainly do. Now listen to ason. i ‘1 listen, but hear nothing save the pleadin for mercy of my dead wife and children,” he replied, in the wildest manner, as he started up an around the cave like a wild beast. ““T see nothing but their beloved forms lying how oody The Scalp King. stiff—oh, God!—stiff in death. It is horrible— most horrible!” ** Yes,” was the solemn and low-voiced reply. ‘*Yes, it was all you can possibly say about it— was worthy of revenge, I will not deny, and you have had sufficient to glut the most savage heart. Besides, there is nothing of discrimination in your course—nothing of punishing the guilty. . It is simply wholesale slaughter.” ‘** All that wear a red skin are alike guilty, and, as God has heard my oath, [ repeat it, none, no, not one shall escape! But,” and the voice softened, the lips trembled, and tears filled the burping eyes, ‘but tell me of—of their—their ves, ‘* That will be my care. With themoney you left I will see that a proper stone is erec soon as the state of the country will admit.” ‘* Thanks!” It was all that he could utter, and seeing the softening influence the subject had upon him whom his professional learning clearly showe was not only the prey of frenzy but would soon (unless a check came) be wandering entirely be- yond the bounds of reason—seeing this, and even with a faint hope that something might be done to stay his mad career, the young physician continued: ‘*By the memory of the dear ones who, I trust, are waiting for you in Heaven, I entreat you to give up this horrible life, to return with me to civilization, and manfully battle with and conquer this foolish grief.” “Foolish? Aha!” With the words he had sprung forward and clutched his friend by the throat with one hand, while the other had drawn his knife from his belt and was waving it wildly above his head. But the calm and unflinching look of the intend- ed victim disarmed bim, and flinging himself upon the ground, he sobbed aloud: ‘*Oh, merciful Heaven! you know not what you are talking about. Wait wntil your time yp? comes ! ‘But if it does, I hope I shall know how to command myself. Yet, once more, will you not listen to the voice of sincere friendship? “ O on.” “Can I do nothing, say nothing, to tempt you to'return home with me?” “Nothing.” ‘““Sappose you should fall from these rocks and break a limb—suppose you should be taken dangerously il], even here in this miserable den, what then?” ‘*T should die without a murmur. But Ihave no fear of that, as I have none of death. I feel, believe, that my end is vet far distant—that many, very many scalps must be gained, ay, even as many as there were hairs torn away from—from—” He could not finish the sentence. His emotion was too terrible for that, and it was some time before the conversation could be resumed, Then it fortunately was in a more calm strain. But nothing that the physician could urge made the slightest impression; every mention of those who had been so ruthlessly swept away set him raving. - Very late into the night they talked, and all that Guy Oliver could gain was a promise to cousider the subject and give him a definite an- swer in the morning. “ You will not quibble about it—will not ask another or seek to urge me further?’ was the question he received in return. *T will not.” : ‘Then, by my honor, you shall have it.” “But you have already made up your mind?” **No—at least, not fully.” . Morning came. Each bad passed such a night as no one would like to struggle through fora second time. It was simply horrible Guy Oliver had rested but little. The wild surround- ings, the nature of his visit, his companion, all were opposed to tranquillity. Fatigue, bow- ever, overpowered him, and during the few hours that remained until daylight, bis sleep | was beavy and unbroken, even though filled with the wildest dreams, The last he remembered of his host was seeing him seated by the fire, muttering and 'gesticula- ting fiercely, and he prayed that a good angel might descend a: d still the waters of that fear- fully lashed soul. But when he awoke, the cavern was empty, and for a time he believed that he would never see Roger Bennett again— that he had purposely fled from him, But in this he was mistaken. After an hour of impatient waiting, he heard the rushing of the horse up the rocks—saw him forced trem- blingly across the bridge, covered with dust and foam—saw the rider g to the ground, and started back with horror, as he flung two i 7 fresh scalps upon the floor at his feet—two upon which the blood had not yet dried—those of an aged Indian and a child, saying, hoarsely: ‘** There is my answer |” Nothing more could possibly be said. The mission of the physician had totally failed. He saw with alarm that the wildness of his friend had sensibly increased since he first came—that henceforth he could scarcely be held responsible for his deeds, and almost prayed that Heaven would kindly put an end to the life that could be nothing the red-man a terror. When the sun was well up they parted—not to meet again for years—not until the then un- meaning words of the Scalp Eing were forced upon his throbbing brain and sorrowfully beat- ing heart: *“WAIT UNTIL YOUR TIME COMES!” CHAPTER VIII. ONE AGAINST A THOUSAND. To follow the career of the Scalp King for a ear would be to recount a series of surprises, air-breadth escapes, miraculous preservations and unprecedented successes. But the wildness the physician noticed at the time of his visit, had grown upon the wifeless and childless Avenger, and with it the cunning that frequently follows lunacy. From that hour two days or nights rarely found him in the same place. He wandered about like a sin-driven zhost—flitted from spot to spot—mace a home or himself in the most remote and dangerous places—appeared when supposed to be at a great distance, and the various branches of the tribe would have sworn that a murder had been com- mitted and scalp taken from some unfortunate at precisely the same hour, hat some other of their enemies—some hunter or trapper was angry for the purloining of tLeir game or gs trang | of their traps, or some set- tler wbose horses bad been stolen, might have done these deeds, while giving bim the credit for it, never entered into their calculation, and he received both the glory and the shame cf every murder that was committed within the circle of a hundred miles. And while this added to his renown, and made him more to be fesred, 1t increased his danger and the desperation of his enemies to hunt him to the death. Plen after plan wes made—ambush after ambush formed—trail r after trailer dispatched to follow, and bands «f warriors set out, after bavirg made the mort propitiatory sacrifices to the Manitou and sworn not to return without his scalp. , Yet all bad thus far proved in vain. The leir might be found but the destined victim was far away. The cavein the mountains was watched, anda “_. laugh showed them the bunt«d man standing far above in the most mockirg attitude, but when they rushed thither, the place where he stood was vscant, and he wes to be seen speeding upon his famous horse like an avalanche over the plain. He came upon the little bands of buffalo- hunters when they had almost forgotten bis existence—swooped down into the encemp- ments when the braves were absent—was seen by the lone fisher in some far-away mountain stream—dashed rite | the trail of the warricis themselves, and ever left bebind a track of fire and blood; a wail of agony and desolated wig- wams, and mourning for some one sent to the country of souls. Like a wandering curse, he was here, there and everywhere, slaying, and sparing never. ; True, there were periods of rest to scme t least—times when they tried to fancy that bis earthly career was ended, and the warriors kept less desperate guard, and looked less to their weapons—the mother momentarily neglected to hug the little pappoose to ber heart, and the fiéet-footed hunters dared to make longer ex- cursions in pursuit of game. Then, and more than likely when the wildest of storms was rending the earth—when the thunder was shaking the most solid ground and the lightning blasting, blinding and destroying, he would be seen riding fearlessly abroad, bis horse skim- ming the sod like a swallow, or his rifle would be ringing forth doom and his scalp-knife leav- ing ghastly records. Would there, could there never be an ending to this? Was the race of the red-man to be ut- terly exterminated? Was the life of their de- stroyer, indeed, so completely charmed that nothing could do him injury? Other tribes scouted at the idea, and came to look upon those whom they had hitherto be- lieved to be brave men as the most contempti- ble cowards—little, if any, better than women. And what reply could they make? ut a curse to the possessor, and to |
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lA A ln = — 8 It was useless to plead what had been done, Useless to tell of baffled strategy, for it only showed their want of cunning. Useless to tell of shots fired and knife and hatchet thrown, for it but revealed their want of skill. Useless to recount the numberless engagements, for it was only a recital of lost warriors and ranks broken through as if they had been made of the long and brittle moss that waved as the beard of an old man from the gaunt, dry trees. No, there was no reply to be made, and in despair they cried to their brethren to come and help them—to show their powers and prowess, ane to preve that the eurse only rested upon them, That was a challenge that could not be disre- garded after so much bad been said upon the subject, and a day was appointed fer a council. Runners were dispatched to all their allies en- treating them to come, to bring their boldest warriors and most charmed weapons, their Medicine-men and the aged soothsayers, upon whose heads the mantles of wisdom for many years had fallen, Fellow-feeling made some, and pride and cu- riosity more attend, They gathered upon the banks of the river, lighted the cvuneil-fire, smoked the mighty calumet, filled with the sa- cred ken-e-ken-ick, that grows only upon the graves of prophets, laid gifts of rare value upon the altar dedicated to the worship of the great Manitou, and did all that was in their power to propitiate the gods that send success in war. The Medicines, dressed in their mystic robes of office, with jingling bells, with necklacesand ornaments of the bones and teeth of the detest- able paetancs that had been slain in battle, with batons of living, writhing serpents, whose eyes appeared to ray out lightning and tongues flame, with all the horrid regalia. that their savage fancy and long years of study could produce, walked slowly around the ring of chieftains and sung their incantations, im- plored blessings, and breathed the most furious curses upon all within whose veins ran a single drop of pale blood, Never had there been a more power gath- ering—never one with so much of unity of pur- pose—and, as if they had been but a single man, the resolution was adopted to be the death of the Scalp King. To this end the most furious, inflammatory speeches were made, and every one sought to lash himself and all who heard him into the most fiendish frenzy. Indeed, it was a strikingly wild and pic- turesque scene, The bronzed forms lined with paint, the faces balf-blackened, the gay trap- »ings of the warriors, the bright-red a ices of he fire, the dismal music of the-«<drums, and rattling of the pebble-filled gourds, the swiftly- rolling river in front, the background of tall trees and cone-shaped wigwams and savagely dancing squaws, as they waved their arms in anger and howled futile gurses, all combined to make it so,to make such{a pandemonium as could be rivaled in the bottomless pit! At least so thought the Scalp King, as he stood resting bis horse upon the opposite bank, hidden by the undergrowth, and calmly smiling at the preparations that he knew could have but one object—his own death. Still he remained an in- terested ‘tator, and never thought of flight— looked as if it was merely pleasant pastime and not in the least dangerous, and watched the aged tricksters as they plodded through the great Da-ya-da-ga-saw, or medicine dance—the war- riors as they frantically wheeled and struck the fire-blackened post in that of the On-na-sa, or scalp-dance, and all as they whirled in or kept time to the borrid movements of the Wa-sa-sa, or that of war. It would have been very easy for him to have fired ip their midst and got away without dan- ger. But he would almost bave scorned such a thing—so easy aconquest. The wild light of in- sanity that was stamped upon his face, and burned in his eyes demanded deeds of greater daring—deeds that would thrill deeper into the hearts of his enemies—would bow their coward hearts into the very dust. All his actions had been thus marked, and not a single bloody leaf sbould be lost from his cbaplet of fame, eae could he strike such a blow there and en? On the morrow they would spread as thick. as ants over the prairie, and nota gngle spot for miles around but would be searched. And then he must be o2 the alert to strike down any straggler—to dart with lightning Py ret from point to point, and teach them a lesson that would go very far against another venture of a like nature. And not very long was he lostin thought. In an instant his lips were set in a more firm pres- sure—bis hand clutched bis knife with determi- nation, and his eyes flashed as baneful fires as those of the huge, diamond-spotted rattlesnake, whose den is in the mountains—whose length can be measured by yards—whose sales clash togetber when it moves as the steel armor of a knight, and shine in the sunrays like burnisbed gold, not the miserable namesake that burrows in the ground with owl and yelping prairie-dog. And so they danced and made merry in an- ticipation of what would come on the morrow, when they swept forth like a tempest and met the dog of a white man, hewed him into a thou- sand fragments; made of him a captive, and dealt | | kind master—loved the steed more than any a thousand deaths of torture, or drove him to his cave in the rocks, and smoked him out likea bear in the months of ice and snow. And as on they danced, even so the Medicine- men circled around, wove, their mysterious in- cantations, whirled their serpents, and sung of the matchless triumph that was to come. As one would grow weary and retire for a time an- other would take bis place; as one would creep to the seclusion of the forest to rest, or to the river to cool his parched lips and overstrained throat, his position was immediately filled, and the mummeries never permitted to flag. So of theircoming and going no heed was taken. Indeed, they had for the most part been for- gotten. Each was absorbed in self, in trying to outdo the frantic actions that had preceded theirs—in weaving the dances of war, and scalps, and death, and torture. : Very little notice was consequently given to the movements of the old tricksters. They were only playing their usual part in the wild scenes, and when at last one paused from his rapid whirl and stepped into the circle of war- riors, and bent over the fire as if toobtain a light for his pipe, none gave him even more than the slightest passing notice; failed to see that he was stealthily loosening a huge battle-ax tbat had been concealed beneath his long robe; knew nothing of his purposes until the foremost chief fell back with bis skull split to the very sboul- ders; until from the thrown-aside garments of the counterfeit Medicine sprung forth the ter- rible Scalp King, whirling his battle-ax, and causing death upon every side as he resistlessly cut his way to the river, s: outing the ery of victory ! And then even as they wereslowly recovering from their surprise and terror, the central fire was hurled on high with a terrific explosion the flames flashed out blinding aad burning, an scattering living brands upon every side, adding to the fearful scene, and making them frantic for their own safety. But yet hundreds of arrows were fired at the strong swimmer and fell upon the water like drops of spring rain, Yet useless—useless! None appeared to have touched him, often div- ing as he did and coming up like an otter far away, and they crawled back as they saw his horse answer bis shrill whistle—saw him mount —dash away, and beard his shouts ringing in mocking laughter over the prairie! The chief dead—felled with even more of savageness than their butchers would have used in striking down a buffalo—a number sorely wounded the stone-headed ax and the ex- plosion of the powder—an old Medicine discov - ered ata little distance with a knife still stick- ing in his heart and scalpless, told the fearful work that had been so dauntlessly accomplished —told bow all their plans were laughed to scorn by the Scalp King. Numbers, however, made them valiant even as wolves are, and there was mounting in bot haste and reckless spurring in the direction their enemy had taken. They intended to sur- round the Jand so as to drive him to his home in the rocky cave of the mountain. And in this they succeeded, They saw him as he rode slowly up the dubivus path, and their hearts grew glad that at last they had driven the war- wolf to his den and had him utterly in their power. CHAPTER IX. THE CAUSEWAY OF DOOM. THOUGH not daring to make an open attack until the night should have passed, yet the In- dians rendered it hideous with their howling and kept so close guard around the base of the mountain that even a fox could not bave stolen through undetected. : But they need have bad little fear of the Scalp King attempting any thing of the kind. e they were passing the dark hours in watchfulness and sualety he lay stretched at ease within his stronghold, laughing at the suc- | certainly coming, | of the result. cess of his dangerous undertaking and thinking as to how be would yet deceive them and be miles away while they yet remained upon guard— how they would be watching bare rocks and empty walls even while he was swooping like an avenging vulture upon their unprotected camp—laughing that there were more ways than one from the bowels of the apparently. solid mountain. Not as yet, however, was he ready to vacate his comfortable quarters. His horse had been ridden hard and needed both rest and food. Not that he could not have journeyed many leagues further before be would bave needed the slightest urging, but the Scalp King was a thing on earth, knew bis value—that he had many atime owed his life to his fleetness, en- durance and sagacity—that be would do so again, and that when on a trail either of ven- geance or retreat the end was never certain, So having groomed and fed and tethered the horse with exceeding care and tenderness, he retired to his custcmary place of repose and re- flected upon what bed transpired and what was Not that he bad any fears He had been Jong a stranger to such. feelings—bad become accustomed to the prospect of death in every form, and literally scorned them when be gave the subject a thought, And musing thus he at length dropped asleep and knew nothing of what was passing around him until the ‘‘ gray-hooded dawn,” began once more to dispute the power of the winged night. Tben he was instantly upon his feet, ascended by his secret path, climbed the bollow tree, looked around and calculated the number of his enemies, “They are as the locusts,” be said, “in the seventeenth year—like the needles of the pines —a). ost as thick as the pigecns around a roost. But, of what avail will it be? The greater the number the greater the opportunity to fulfill my oath—the greater the stream of blood that shall flow—the greater the number of scaip- less wretches that shail go down to the dark grave,” So numerous were the chances to shoot down his enemies, that he could scarcely keep from getting his rifle and sending a Lullet crashing among them—would have done so bad he mt feared that it might lead tothe discovery of the manner in which be gained the summit of the mountain unseen. That would never do—would be worth his life; so, curbing his resentment, he descended, and with the.resolve to wait for yet another day before he made the least «ffort to escape, which he was confident he could do at aby time. On reaching the cavern be was about to begin the preparation of his morning meal, when be was attracted by the unessy motions of his horse. He knew sometbing of bis suspicious spuffing before, and crawling forward, so as to. look gut, he saw that a number of Indians had gained a position on the oppesite side of the gulf —that they had discove the opening to the cave, and were talking and gesticulating with great exultation, From bis hiding-place he could see and hear all that transpired without in the least exposing himself; so he crouched down and waited witb- out the slightest tremor of nerve. They might plot, but be could counterplot, and certainly bad very much the vantage-ground, ot very lorg, however, was he left in doubt as to their intentions, if indeed he bad any from the first. Disappearing for atime, they returned with two light, strovg sticks, and threw them across the chasm, Lashed together as they bad been with strong bark, they afforded a safo transit for a daring man— were of sufficient, straniyen to sustain a number at the same time, and the grim warriors evidently intended to crowd after each other—to land at the same time, and then use their combined force against the single man. Silently—scarcely breathing— without motion, the Scalp King sat crouched behind the point of rocks, witb a face upon which glowed the most fiendish and malicious triumph tbat could ever have been stamped upon the features of mortal man—sat like one of the weird sisters who weave the web of fate. Yet, after the crossing had been finished— after they bad become satisfied that the end rested securely upon the rocks on the opposite side, the Indians besitated to trust themselves upon it, or rather disagreed as to who should go first. Although jt was the post of honor, nono. desired to claim ‘* Let a scout go first,” the one who appeared to be in command whispered; “ goand report i€
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ooo — . acieiied the dog of a pale-face is sleeping. Then we will rush upon and bind him.” oy us a short discussion the plan was adopted. The Scalp King saw a runner preparing to cross —stole back to a little distance within the cave, stretched himself at full length, closed his eyes, breathed heavily, and counterfeited slumber so exactly as to have deceived even sharper sens8 than those of the affrighted and half-fledged warrior. “The pale-face is slezping like a little pap- poose,” was his report. ‘1 could have driven my knife into his heart and brought away his “a without the slightes: danger.” * It is well,” was answered. ** Shall I do so now?” ‘“No! No!” Danger being af r, they were all anxious to assist in and partake of the glory of the capture —eager as they had before been reluctant, and without ceremony crowded upon the improvised bridge. Stillit was necessary for them to pro- ceed witb caution, and something of order was maintained. in single file they stepped forward, each placing his hands upon the shoulders of the one in front, and waited for the order to move, Itcame. They steppedlightly on. The fore- most had reached the center in safety, when a ery, loud and os as the thunder, burst upon their ears; he Scalp seine: sprung from his place of concealment, seized the ends of the timbers, and, by the exertion of almost super- human strength, moved tbem aside, and their living load was consigned to a sudden and terri- ble death! ] Down! down! fell logs and men, until the far- away rocks received them—splintered the one and crushed the lacter out of all semblance of humanity. Not a single one escaped. The mode the had adopted was fatal, for they clung to eac other, and those who might possibly have s.ved themselves were dragged down to the universal doom! Tnoss who had not ventured fled iv horror— without a thought of using their weapons—fled with the pistol shots of their enemy ringing in their ears and thinning their ranks; fled to re- count the story to their fellows and enlarge upon it tillthe author of the calamity would not have recognized bis own fearful work. Without the least effort to secure and bury the dead—dreading, no doubt, that rocks might be thrown down upon them—the Indians with- drew and again held a council of war. Cer- tainly there must be some other wey to gain access tothe cave, and if so, and they could dis- cover it, and make a simultaneous entry at the two points, might they not hope to be success- ful? The theory wasa a ene, and they has- tened to see if it could not be put in practice by dispatching scouts to various points. These rapged over the mountain sides, but returned baffled—all but one, and when he descended it was like the shotfrom a gun. He whirled head- jong hundreds of feet through the air—his quiv- ering body lodged in a tree and was left sus- pended there for the carrion buzzards to tear piecemeal—to fester in the sua, and bleach in the rain, until the well-pi ked bones fell to the earth to be scattered by the cubs of the ever prowling wolves. The cause of his fallnone knew. Not one had seen the Scalp King, as he sprung with the agil- ity of a cat, from the hollow tree, crept very near, and struck a full blow with his battle ax. He had gone again to watch their movements, and could not resist the temptation. It was another scalp to be credited to the dread account of revenge. ; Bat though the Indians had met with such se- vere checks and disasters, they still sullenly resolved that the life of the white man should be at least a partial recompense for their loss, and various methods were proposed to be carried into effect and at the same time. [ The one most favored was to smoke him out. Such a thing was not uncommon with beasts when driven to their dens in the rocks, and why should not the plan work with men? ; To resolve was to put in execution, and with great labor, masses of inflammable matter were carried as secretly as possible to the er oppo- site the mouth of the cavern—roll:d_into balls tarred over, and arrows, around the heads of which dry moss, di in the resinous gums of the evergreen, were ignited and discharged until so greata flame and smoke arose as to even drive them back. Still they fed it for a time, until satisfied that nothing living could by any | paste remain within. hen them to ven y waited until it was cool enough for turg across, and having framed another bridge, were about to do so, when they saw the Scalp King standing carelessly near where the flames had been the fiercest, and heard bis hoarse laugh of mockery as he said: ‘* Tf the intense fire of the great prairie could not consume me, how do you think your feeble blaze of bark and splinters would do so? Fire has no power to harm me, and your arrows are stingless,” The latter was a point they were at least de- termined to prove, and the shafts rattled against the rocks like shot. That numbers must have hit him they would bave testified, though nothing could be proved, for he had immediately disappeared. And they neither saw nor heard anything of him again until a scout came riding up, with his panting steed lashed to foam, from the direction of the encampment, bringing the sad intelligence that the Scalp King had been there and left behind a trail of blood! How could such a thing be possible? They would not believe the evidence of one of their own race—would not believe their ears, and climbed the rocks in mad haste to learn how he had got away. And a very brief ex- amination appeared to satisfy them. The solu- tion was tangible so far as it went. The bridge —the one of his own construction—was down; be had certainly crossed over it, and why could they not do the same? They seemed to forget for the moment that he was flesh and. blood, and they must have seen him when he was rid- ing away—thought not of any secret passage— dreamed only of exploring the cave. To do this all had more of curiosity than of caution. With their terrible enemy afar, they fancied no danger could come to them, and after a very cursory examination, a half score crowded upon the bridge—crowded forward— reached the middle, when it suapped in twain as if built of straw, and all who had gained a footing, were dashed down upon the mangled bodies of those who had preceded them, ‘ Collected again in their camp upon the plain, the now thoroughly astounded Indians saw with a shudder that the Scalp King was stand- ing upon the rocks above watching further their proceedings! It was too much for their superstitious souls, and with howls of baffled rage and fear they fled homeward, CHAPTER X. THE BEAUTIFUL TEMPTER. For some time after the wild and bloody epi- sode of the mountain, the Scalp King was seen no more by the Indians in that portion of the country, Winter had settled down with its rigor; the snow was mae deep and the streams fettered with ice. There came murmurs from the south- ward, where the great Pe-boan (Winter Spirit) had less of power, of murders and scalping done by a single hand, and the wretched children of the prairie blessed the Manitou that bis fiery wrath had been turned away from them. Who it was that thus carried destruction into the ranks of their brethren of the south they did not fora moment doubt. There could not be two such men—could not be two such horses! But, with the graves covered deeply—bidden from their sight by the snow,and with months of tranquillity, something of their former manhood returned, though they had never ventured but once again to explore (to them) the fatal cavern, A few of the boldest had attempted this and had returned in hot haste and with faces telling of fear. Even when they had quietly effected a crossing—when they had become convinced by listening that no creature was near, a terrible sound was heard within—a dark form was seen rushing toward them, with eyes of flame, and they knew that the ghost of the Scalp King was yet present. : This was enough for all time. The idea that a bear might have taken up his winter’s quar- ters there was beyond their comprehension— skillful hunters though they might be—for f ar had become all-powerful and they could see nothing save through its darkly torturing lenses, So the winter melted awa the birds began to return; the trees to put on their summer dress and the many-hued flowers to mosaic the fresh grass of the prairies. Then all were startled again by the return of their enemy, whose vengeance it appeared notbing would glut. His maraetenss was heralded in a way fhat marked the man. re Waking from their slumbers one morning in spring, those first abroad started back in dismay as they saw a line of scalps drawn entirely podbnae fi i Nice on None s' oe count them—i would ve ¢ : ability to doso, but they told of great slaughter in quietness and- 9 ne eee done somewhere—told far more forcibly than ores could have done the fate that awaited em, Then a universal wailing might have been heard. Then a cry of lamentation rung through theland. Tbey almost called upon the moun- tains to fall upon and hide them from the undy- ing hate—the whirlwind of wrath that so steadily swept over them. But this brought nothing of relief, and silently and in little bodies they turned their backs upon the homes of their fathers, sought other tribes, longing to become absorbed in them, only to be driven forth as things accursed—driven back te their fate! They were mistaken, however, in the idea that haunted the Scalp King. Against that portion of the tribe he had no more of vengeance than any other. His enmity was against all. Whenever he saw an Indian, there be saw feod meet for slaughter. But these had been the first that he had found—babit had somewhat fixed him to the locality, and bere he lingered the most, as he had craftily planned his retreats and means of escape. And all other things falling, the red men sought to disarm him by gifts, by promises to pertonse any thing be might wish them to de— y making bim a king indeed, and becoming his slaves—by laying down all their treasures at bis feet, and constituting*him sole lawgiver. This was a plan that bad been often discussed, but vainly attempted to be cairied into effect. Who would be bold enough to go, as it were, up to the mouth of a cannou—to place their beads in the jaws of an enraged lion—to give tbem- selves up to be scalped/ From such a foolhardy andastakine every one sbrunk, Still the idea was never entirely atandoned, and after weeks of reflection it was decided that a girl of the tribe should be the messenger, and if also a vic- tim, it was but a woman lost, and that counted but little in their estimation. To single ber out was not difficult, As the great majority of the females of the Indian race bave but little of attractiveness, so are there rare instances of the most marked beauty —forms and faces—notwithstanding the bror zed skin, that their more cultivated sisters might well envy. And such was Ne-ges-i-gook, or the Northern Light. reely more than in ber sixteenth year, she was straight as a hemlock—tall, with a figure flexible and graceful—rounded -by exercise in the n air, and undwarfed by the myste- ries of fashion—eyes soft as those of the fawn— skin that had but little of the blackness of that of ber people, and sbone as pure bronze in the sunlight—small bands and feet—step ligbt as a mountain-cat—ears sharp and erect as those of a stag—a delicately-cut mouth, filled with teeth of snow—laughter like that of a mountain rill, and hair of matchless length and blackness, There was nothing of the usually prominent bones te mar the contour of her cheeks—noth- ing of harsh or brutal expression. In fact she seemed as much out of place in the company of warriors and wrinkled, croaking squaws as a dove would have been in a nest of hawks, or the antelope’s fawn in the den of snarling wolves. But for all this soft and graceful manner, the blood of the long line of chieftains that ran in her veins had given to her a heart of fire, and when roused to action she could be as firm, and feared death as little, as the bravest brave. Once selected to perform the dangerous task, of seeking the stronghold of the Scalp King, she could not sbrink, and after many and earnest prayers to the Great Manitou, she arranged fur the journey witb all the love of display inherent in her sex—dressed herself in the gayest attire —twined the freshest of flowers in her caretully- braided and perfumed bair—put the most curi- ously-embroidered moccasins upon her feet— strung crimson Wampum around her neck—en- circled her bare arms and ankles with rings of silver—put on ber skirt and leggins of snowy doe-skin, frin with scarlet feathers, and made the heart of many a young warrior throb with pity and love as she lightly sprung upon a pony and dashed away to find him who had sworn to spare no one of her race from indis- criminate slaughter. A fairer child of the pn and wildwood never could have met the gaze of any man. Never was there one so calculated to bow the heart, and as if conscious of ber beauty and her power to charm, she had almost. willingly ac- cepted the mission, and gayly (at meee ie a a ner rode for to—what? reds who ft gree yen with the most intense anxiety could o ave murmured—death! _ But Yor all her bigh resolutions—for all her inherited bravery—for all the proud display of The bun- .
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: : i | ~iew 10 lover mad with jexlousy—for all her determina- tion, she showed something of cowardice as she drew near to the fatal spot—as the cliffs rose up before her—the dark valley had to be tra- versed, where so many of her race had found death, and the full force of what she had under- taken burst upon her. And this grew upon her with every foot that was traveled, and her wa up the mountain- side was like that of a snail. nd when she at last reached the point opposite to the mouth of the cave, she sunk in terror and could only falter out in the most feeble of accents: “ Pale-face!” ° “Who calls? Who dare come hither?” was answered, but more like the howl of a wild beast than sounds coming from the lips of man, ** Will the pale-face look?” lamb se Who and what are you?” in pain.” uch as she had nerved herself yet she could not be ye a scream of terror as he stalked from the depths of the cavern and stood leaning upon his battle-ax before her—for never before had she gazed upon his face. And that face was one that once seen would never be forgotten! The life he had led, and the feelings he had indulged in bad hardened it--had apparently utterly crushed out every ves- tige of pity. There was a terrible light burning in his eyes, that she could only compare to that of some tortured and seeking to be revenged brute, His beard was long and hung upon his breast, his hair rested low down upon his shoul- ders, and was strangely streaked with white locks. His skin was bronzed by sun and wind to almost the hue of herarm. His dress was of the skins of bear and wolf with the hair still clinging to them. His head was bare, save a blood-red scarf that was tied around it and hung behind, and gave an additional fierceness to his features. Constant exertion had given greater breadth to his frame, and his garments made him look even more of a giant than he really was. But if the Sate girl was astonished, even so was he. hen his eyes first rested upon her he staggered back like one who has received a heavy -blow—staggered against the wall of rock, and remained panting for breath. | A girl —one of the accursed race daring to come into his very stronghold—daring to call upon him to come and see her! It was too monstrous for be- lief, and the heavy gore-stained ax he had brought to instantly crush out life, dropped from his hand as if it had suddenly been par- alyzed. ** An—Indian—girl!” The words dropped from his lips as if weighed down with lead, and the wonder in his eyes steadily increased. Had it been a thousand werriors he would not have been as sorely as- tonished. But this feeble, trusting girl appeared to rob him of all power to do her injury, and sinking down upon an outcropping rock, he rested his elbows upon bis knees and his head upon his hands, and gazed as if magnetized by the intent and yet pleading look of her large and Justrous eyes. uiet smile played as swift as summer A lightalng over the face of the girl, and she could scarcely restrain her impulse to speak, But, the habit of years and of her race had taught her reticence, and she calmly waited the issue of that strange meeting, And speechless he gazed at her for some time —gazed with his entire soul beaming from his éyes—looked at her as one might bave done at some startingly beautiful serpent. Then bis lips slowly parted, and more as if speaking to bim- self n conscious of the presence of another, h: repeated, with a burst of genuine and enthu- siastic feeling: “Very beautiful!” Again the swift smile played for a moment over the face of the girl. It was not in the na- ture of woman to refuse cach a tribute from such a source, and extending her hands, she whispered in the most enticing manner: ‘ ** Will the pale-face come Seemingly unconscious of what he was d the man lowered his bridge—crossed and himself at a little di:tance from her— charms, that would have driven a red-skinned : ‘He has no one to dress his venison and bathe his head when he comes home tired from the hunt—no one to love him.” “Tove is dead!” he answered, sternly, and then his mind wandered again from the subject and he resumed his scrutiny—raised her han within his own, toyed, almost, with her long black hair, and seemed entirely absorbed in tracing the evidences of loveliness. “ Love never dies,” she continued, in the same thrilling whisper. ‘It may sleep, but there is no grave for it while life lasts.” ‘Where did you come from?’ he questioned suddenly. “From the direction of the setting sun. But why does the pale-face live here alone, like the great bear of the mountain? Why does he not go back to his people?” ‘He has no people—none. The wilderness is now his home, and the one purpose of bis hfe is—” “Hush! Hark!” ; She had watched, was watching, him ver closely, and was not long in determining that his mind was unsettled, and, as soon as the fitful, wild light of insanity began to glitter in his eyes—as soon as bis actions threatened to be violent, she pressed her fingers warmly upon his hand, and sung one of the simple and sad love- songs, which, with the exception of those of war, comprise the eutire music of her race. Its effect was magical. He sunk back again, and the eye-lids drooped before her burning aze, -And without the least teaching in the subtle art of mesmerism, save such as a wild- ling of nature might bave—without the slight- est instruction from any who have studied and profess to know the mysteries of the mysterious power, she passed her hand slowly, tenderly up his arm, and permitted it to rest amid the heavy masses of his hair. In an instant the never-to-he-crushed-out treachery of her savage nature flashed a plan through her brain which, if successful, would obviate all the necessity of humbling her proud soul or that of her nation, and she cunningly worked to increase her power over him—to bind him as a slave to her charms—to lead him at length where he would fall an easy prey . — warriors who madly thirsted for his If he was a Samson, she became a Delilah, and Ju’ed him by all the arts of coquettish and plotting womanhood to his fall. She saw that the very first touch of her hand had thrilled bim—saw that he willingly yielded to her caresses, and constantly though slowly increased them; nestled against him; permitted her soft cheek to touch his and her warm breath to fan it. And she kept his mind employed in a double sense, for when one song was finished another followed, and then she talked to him as if they had Jong been the warmest friends. _ And never was man tempted by a beautiful, warm-blooded girl with greater art, She never touched upon, but drew his thoughts away from himself to her, and endeavored to make him feel that he was entirely dependent upon her for happiness. Still there were times when he would suddenly break away from her endear- ments—when his long-cherished revenge would flash through his brain with all the burning strength and vividness of lightning, and she sighed to see the chains she believed she had woven strongly, burst through as easily as if they had been formed of the mist of the morning. And at such times he would hold her sternly at a distance; seek to recall the reason of her being there; seek to fathom the mystery as to who she was and why he did not bury bis knife in her heart or hur! her bodily into the yawning Then she feared his fire-flashing eyes; the black frown that shrouded his face as a thunder- cloud; bis immense strength; drew back trom him in alarm, and roc oF safety save in the same line of action she had hitherto followed, endeavored to win him back to quietness. ——_————$ em — Yet a single word would arouse him, and the ower of her magnetic influence began to fade bolote his stronger organization and more mighty will. She saw that, if successful, it must. not be very long delayed, and lavished still more and warmer caresses upon him, and ene nn him with honeyed words to go with er? And more than once he was upon the point of doing so. Had he done it, he would never have taken scalp again, for, hidden at the foot of the mountain were half a dozen armed braves, who had secretly followed to see that she did not deceive them, but faithfully exe- cuted her commission. With the failure of her softening influences came another and fearful trial to her strength of heart, brain and nerve—one such as none of her sex and age could have endured except trained in such arough school and taught to conceal (when pleased so to do) every emotion and believe that a death of torture was a death of honor. f For a brief time he had been looking away from her face, bad been released from the ower of her eyes, had not been hearkening to he siren voice. The sora, of his horse re- called him from dreamland, and all bis misery and all the minutie of his oath came back with the most startling distinctness, Then the tempt- ress faded quickly from memory so far as being other than one of a tribe of enemies—as one of a number who had done him the most grievous of wrongs, and turning swiftly around, he erushed the flesh of her arm in bis grasp of iron, and fairly hissed from lips purple with anger: ** You are an Indian!” “T am a helpless woman!” ‘‘It was some—God alone knows how many —of your accursed, thrice accursed race that made my home desojate, and my heart a hell! Why should not your scalp follow the others?” ‘Because you dare not take it!” she replied, assuming a boldness she was far from feeling. “ Why?” ‘‘T came to seek you as a friend—came to seek you unarmed, See! not a single weapon— not even a knife. And you would not for al) the wealth of your nation stain your hands in the blood of one who thus trusted you.” ‘“‘ By the light of heaven, you are brave.” ‘‘ And therefore demand your respect.” _ ‘‘Know ye not that I have never yet spared one of your people?” ‘| know you have scattered innocent scalps over the earth thick as snow-flakes in the freez- ing moon, and it was for this I came to see you —ay, even ventured here unarmed and alone,” The word ‘‘alone” recalled him to the sense of danger, and, without the slightest warning, he picked ber ‘. in bis powerful arms and darted upon the bridge—pausing for a moment in the center. Had she exhibited the least signs of fear he would certainly have dashed her down tothe bottom as others had gone before her. But with a mighty effort she refrained from screams—remained passive—was carried into the cave—the bridge was withdrawn, he seated himself in front of her so as to watch her every emotion, and continued: ““Te]l me why you came here?” “To beg of you to spare my race,” ‘Did they spare mine? Is there a single one left?” ‘“‘Whatever your wrongs, they have been deeply avenged.” ‘““But I swore never to know rest while life lasted.” “The Manitou will turn such an oath into » curse. Let the pale-face listen, He has spilled rivers of blood. The prairies and woods are stained with it. Desolation isin the wigwams of my people. The old men are bowed down to the very grave—the women tremble even when they hear the voice of the night-wind, and the little pappooses hide their heads for fear. The hunters dare not go out in search of game, and starvation is staring them in the face. Their brothers have driven them from them, and they have no place of babitation. The scalps he has taken are as the drops of morning dew, and the red-man shuns the face of the sun and crouches shivering in the darkness.” She had arisen and was standing before him with her eyes eloquent with tears. Her cheeks were flushed, her bosom panting—her beauty a hundredfold enhanced. He gazed upon her and was awed. Something of theold magnetic in- fluence returned, and taking her hand be drew her down again to a seat by his side and asked, in an altered voice: ‘* What will the red-men do if I —- my back forever upon them and their ha
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** Anything.” ‘* And should I stay, even go and live among them and be their friend?” ‘They will make you the great king of the | quickly drove them nation.’ He paused, bent his head upon his hands, and was lost in reflection fora time. Then again he asked, looking rather to her eyes than her lips for an answer: ‘““ What will you do?” ‘T will teach him the ways of peace—will rock his omer,’ head in my arms—will be to him a sister. Oh! for the love of the Manitou, come with me. Leave this dreadful cave, and come and dwell in the pure air and the blessed sunshine ” “IT will go—and talk with your warriors.” She waited to hear no more, flung her arms around his neck, kissed him in a manner so pas- sionate as to send all the blood surging to his heart, and gently dragged him forward. Yet for all the show of gratified love, there was a dangerous compression of her lips—a mental re- solve that as soon as she was herself in safety she would snatch the sharp knife from his belt, and let out his heart’s blood before he should escape. ’ It was true Indian treachery, cunvingly worked out, as well as the noble and justifiable resolve of a woman to free her nation from the most dangerous enemy it had ever known, Tbe bridge was dropped and crossed, He would have returned and taken his horse with him, but she painted in fitting words the foolish- ness of so doing—told him that, after he had consulted with the elders of the tribe he could return—that it was but a little distance to the spot whence she could summon them. ; The temptress was triumphant! He listened to her as he perhaps had never before done to woman—stepp-d forward with her clinging esa to his arm—then paused and weaving ber within his embrace, and Jook- ing down into the face that was upturned to him beaming with smiles, and yet once more questioned: ‘“What will you do for me?” “ Anything—everything.” ‘Everything? What do you mean by that?” “‘T will be your sweetheart—wife—” ‘* Great God of heaven!” Tnat single word had banished all she had before done—set his brain whirling—bis soul thirsting for blood—his oath burning before his eyes as jf written in letters of flame. He threw her wildly from him, called down the lightning to blind and to blast—tore the battle-ax from his belt, and would have stricken her down had pot her movements been as swift as his own. The heavy, stone-headed weapon was splin- tered to fragments as it whirled harmlessly over her head and struck the rocks, and as she gained her horse and rode swiftly away she heard the mountain ringing with his screams of vengeance and horrid laughter. ‘ She had utterly failed, even when the most certain of having accomplished her mission, and nothing would ever again tempt her within reach of the powerful arm of the Scalp King. Far sooner’ would she have hunted out the winter-starved bear and braved his wrath. The story she told did much to increase the terror of her people, and make the name and fame of their enemy ring through the length and breadth of the land. _CHAPTER XI. AT BAY. Tue terrible temptation through which he had passed—the revulsion in feeling consequent upon it—the furious wrath—the images of the dead wife and children that once more were re- called and haunted him with the most appalling power, caused such a paroxysm of insanity as he bad never before known—was longer in duration and more dangerous in its conse- quences. : For weeks existence to the wretched man could scarcely have been called life, and when his natural energies and strong constitution rallied and asserted their sway, and he became physically a man again, it was with every desire and object but one entirely blotted from his brain. But, with all his powers concentrated upon that sole purpose, he Ftathe still more crafty— still more poe ath to the Indians—tracked them as the wolves track a wounded deer—gave no warning of his coming—struck a savage blow and was away again. It was in vain the followed. His horse could easily distance their swiftest, and while they were still struggling behind, he was dashing ‘up the rocks, and long before they could reach the gulf be had to cross, The Scalp King. was laughing triumphantly within the depths of the cavern, or raining down shots and buge rocks from above u — in a manner that ack. It was in vain, too, that they attempted to conceal themselves and shoot him down from an ambush on the opposite side of the chasm. He appeared to have some secret method of being warned of their presence—to know exactly the moment of their coming and departure, and if they remained long would disappear and ride away by some path they could not dis- cover. But desperation at last drove them to retal- iation. If the pale-face could thus mow down their ranks even as their sickles did the grass of the prairie, why could not they do the same? Perchance the great Manitou was angry with them for thus permitting the Jee-by-e-nick-un- nah (our Milky Way—to them the ‘path of ghosts”) to be nightly thronged with unrevenged spirits, and that when they again proved them- selves to be men he would smile upon them and’ withdraw the curse that appeared to bave fallen —nay, even give them the Scalp King for tor- ture. If so, the means to attain this end were not lacking, and armed bands departed secretly in all directions, and many a settler’s home upon the frontier blazed in the midnight, and many a dying groan was heard, and many ascalp and prisoner taken to be offered up to the dread power of their blood-loving Manitou of war. And it seemed as if they had at last struck the key-note of success. Their hitherto taunt- ing brethren began to smile upon them again— to lend them a helping hand—to furnish them with the thews and sinews of war, and the Scalp-King bad Mie several occasions) barely escaped from their now well organized sa 9 ditions against him. With this dawning of a brighter day to them, after so long a night of darkness, came not only the longing but the de- termination to take him alive, and show to al] the world that they were yet mighty in war and could propitiate the Great Spirit by such an offering as never before had been slain upon any altar. raftily their preparations were made, secretly their councils held. The bravest warriors and the most cunning scouts enlisted—even the wo- men were sent out as spies. A vast territory was surrounded, and they waited impatiently until the enemy should appear and the precon- certed signal of attack be given. It came upon just such a day as they would have prayed for—came when the sun was shining brightly—the air clear from smoke— the wind still and they could see for a long dis- tance, The nearest scouts saw the Scalp King quietly ride away from his mountain home, and imme- diately a little band rushed to the cave and wok possession of it, while others passed word along the line, and the skulkers in the prairie-grass fairly rattled their weapons for joy, and those in the timber descended from ‘beir look-out in the topmost branches of the trees and fixed their arrows upon the strings and loosened their knives in their belts and felt of the edge of their tomahawks. : Fully five hundred armed warriors were upon the watch—every inch of the prairie upon which he had ridden was guarded, and if he could then escape he must indeed be or be pro- tected by the evil spirit! . Still he rode forward, as if unconscious of danger—rode with his head bowed low upon his breast—with his weapons as carelessly placed as if the country contained none for him but friends. And when rear the middle of the open prairie he drew the rein, and raising himself until he could stand wpon the back of his borse, he looked upon every side, the Indians knew that he bad discovered something suspicious, and they answered by the most discordant yells, if he had failed to bear them he would have been deaf to the Joudest peals of thunder, yet it appeared to make no impression upon him. He quietly resumed his seat, and again rode leisurely forward—rode toward a thicket where an unusually large body had concealed them- selves, But when within arrow-shot he wheeled as suddenly as an affrighted deer and dashed away, Tt was but as the hunter-driven buffalo. Whichever way he turned a new danger pre- sented itself—a new band of warriors rose to confront him. Almost as the eagle his swift and powerful horse flew around the contracting circle, and the ambushed enemies saw, with a thrill of joy, that after a time he would outrun his strength, and the rider would be compara- tively helpless, ST eee ee EEE ——E—EE EE eee SS es eee ee eee " ee 11 That time appeared to come at last. .With panting flanks—with drooping head—quivering: tail—covered with foam—reeking with sweat— the horse stopped, and the rider apparently en- deavored to urge him forward. e watching Indians saw his every motion, and gloried that now both horse and man were at their mercy, and the signal was giv.n to draw still closer. The eyes of the Scalp King flashed with vindic- tive hate and determination, and his deep-drawn breath told of the most powerful emotions, 1f his last battle it should be one long to be re- membered. He knotted the reins around the neck of his horse—took his club,in one hand and pistol in the other—watched how near his ene- mies were gathering—but stil] made no effort to escape.. He was likea stag at bay, and woe to aay that should come within the reach of his. orns! And nothing saved him even then but the in- flexible rule that had been established that he was to be taken unbarmed—that no warrior was: to shoot him down from the distance, but all with a grand rush close around, and drag bim ne the ground aod pinion him by their combined. efforts. The plan was a good one, and why should it. not succeed with every thing in their favor? | They still crept nearer Still be waited until he could almost see the fiery sparkling of their eyes. Then, as with a voice of tlunder, he shouted his battle-cry, and, as an arrow flies from a strongly-twanged bow-string, even so iris: horse sprung forward and dashed into their ranks. Into—through them as the enraged buffalo- bull tosses aside the miserable little wolves of the prairie, when numbers bas made them overbold and they dispute his way! Into their ranks—through them! Those who: threw themselves upon and clung to him were beaten down by his heavy club or fell pierced by bullets—were stamped by the maddened horse, or slain by the rider, and the rest saw him resistlessly ride on. Then came mous of baffled vengeance; every bow was discharged, and the arrows fell around bim thick as hail as. they mounted and followed, making the earth tremble beneath their footsteps, and the sky quiver with their savage yells. Would he turn to the mountain cave? If so, his doom was fixed, and not to be questioned. Would he break away to south? Then there was no escape from a horrible death, Every ass was guarded. The only open one led ed to a point of rocks that was cut in twain by a deep, broad gulf—the path of a mountain cor- rent, that nothing living could leap. And would he, in bis desperation attempt it? No sane man would ever dream of such a thing. Ah! they knew nothing even as yet of the rider—nothing of the confidence he had in his horse. Waving them to follow, he still rode on ——-the long ends of the blood-red scarf he wore around his head stream out behind as twin ban- ners of defiance—bis mighty weapon whirled around es light as a reed—his knees pressed firmly against the sides of bis horse—one hand patting the arched and glossy ne¢k, and his voice encouraging bim. Then those who could see distinctly held their breath inawe! He drew still nearer—nearer to the fearful gulf almost as the lightning flies—reached the summit of the rocks—bent down to the stream- ing mane, and then, like a thunderbolt, the black horse was seen to rush through the air— then was lost to their sight! Had he made the matchless leap? Had he fallen to the bottom, to be found with bis med rider crushed to a gory mass upon the ragged stones at the bottom? It would have required hours of travel to go around and solve the mystery. Still it must be known, and the bands collected for that pur- pose. But before their object could be accon « plished, a wounded few of those whe had guarded the cave came straggling back, telling a tale of horror—how their enemy bad sprur ¢ out upon them from the solid rock and beaten out the brains of all but themselves. Then all crept back to their wigwams in shud- dering fear, and whispered from pale and trembling lips: ‘*He is indeed Kosanoun Weenikury—the King of Scalps!” CHAPTER XII. AFTER THE BATTLE. Wirn his affrighted enemies driven before him as chaff before the wind, or lying mangled in death, the Scalp King closed the secret open- ing through which he had sprung upon them— cleared the floor of the dead bodies by throwin them down into the pit in front, and then mont
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' | } ! 12 pera nr a nS EE 40 the spot where he had hidden his faithful horse, returned with and gave him every possi- ble attention. And he needed something of the same treat- ment himself, for the wounds he had received, though not immediately dangerous, were nu- merous, and the heads of several arrows had pierced through his thick garments and fastened themselves in the flesh, These had caused the blood to flow freely, and the drain upon his system was more than he had any idea of, and had saturated his garments until they looked as if dyed crimson. His face, too, was sorely scratched, and bis hair and long beard clotted with gore, Indeed, a more ghastly sight could not have been produced, even if pur ly got up, and had a glass been presented him, he would have started back with horror. But to his wounds (save to tear away the arrow-heads) he gave not the slightest atten- tion—nor even to the stopping of blood. He threw himself upon the flinty floor of the cav- ern and soon was slumbering heavily—slumber- ed until long into the night, and then arose, and with a reeling brain and unsteady step, crawled out into the refreshing night-air and sat watching the stars until they bad ‘ winked themselves out,” and the glories of the coming ay were stealing through the gates of the ast, The sight calmed him.’ He looked abroad ever the wide expanse of) prairie, and the uni- versal stillness soothed bis troubled spirit. He leaned back against the rock, and soon again the poppy-leaves fell around—the ivory portals were ete wide open and he was wandering in the land of blessed dreams—so blessed, so tranguil, that he knew nothing of the coming of armed men upon the opposite side of the chasm—nothing of the cry of intense anguish that burst from the lips of Guy Oliver as be turned from-the hideous scene to a companion, and exclaimed; ‘““May God have mercy upon him! He is dead—looks as if he had been skinned alive. At last the accursed red-skins have been too much even for him, and have placed his body there to mock and affright any one who might come. By Heaven! this adds to my already deep- seat d vengeance, and soon I shall have as great ascore to wipe out as he did. Poor Roger! I came for your assistance and find you need mine—the very last kind offices that man can give to man.” “But he may not be dead. I fancy I can’ atill see bim breathing," was the suggestion of one of his friends. “Breathing? What are you talking about? A man who looks as if he bad been literally boiled in blood to be breathing? And yet I be- lieve you may be right,” he continued, after a closer examination. ‘‘Ob! for some means to get across to him.” “Suppose you try and call him. He may not be so far gone that be can not hear and re- cognize your voice,” * Roger, Roger Bennett!” The woods rung with the words—they startled the wolves and buzzards from their horrid feast in the depths below, but failed to arouse the sleeper. Again and yet again they were repeat without any good result, and the young pbysician and his comrades were about to seek for some means to get over tohim when he suddenly started to his feet—rubbed his — over his eyes and murmured in a broken voice: ‘“*Hark! The dead are calling.” ‘No, it is the living, old friend. Do you not know me?” In an instant the ever-ready pistols were drawn from his belt, cocked, raised, sighted and fired as they drew back in alarm. No, not fired. He had failed to load them after his des- te encounter and miraculous escape, and to hat forgetfulness some of their number owed their lives. With a curse he dashed them down, and tearing a huge stone from its rocky bed was about to burl it, when the physician again stood forth in plain view and hailed him. “Roger Bennett, do vou not know me, Guy Oliver?” The stoné dropped from the hands that held it and went crashing down into the depths be- low; the man himself almost fell and followed it, but clutching to a firm support he looked with a face that was the picture of amazement, and out: “ Yes, it is I, old friend. Down with your brid and let me across.” t me think. I cannot—cannot re- member.” ¢ ** Look well at my face.” The Scal oma anell ‘‘ Yes—yes—I see. You are—” “A doctor,” was the impatient interruption. ne do not keep me waiting. I have much to you, “‘ Yes—yes—a doctor?” It was some time before Oliver could persuade him to do as he wish The clouds were thick around the brain of the self-doomed man—the past very indistinct—almest like a dream. But, at length, a little of light ent: red; he mechanic- ally lowered the crossing, staggered toward his friend, and, with a cry of joy, fell fainting upon his neck, To strip off his garments,get water brought and wash dress his wounds, was but short work for the ySung pismcian, Brief as his border life had been, he had more than once been called upon to patch up bumanity after the knives and hatchets of the Indians had been at work, and he was rejoiced to find a job of so little difficulty —no bones to set, no bullets to extract. ‘* His scalp is all right,” he said, with a sickly effort at a smile, ‘‘ and { wish his brain was.” But there was nothing of the old-time fire and devil-may-care jollity about Guy Oliver. His face told of sorrow and his every motion was of anxiety. “He is the only man,” he exclaimed to his companions, ‘whom | know of that can do us any good in this undertaking, and we must nurse him to health and strength with all possi- ble speed.” “* And reason?” “That will never fully return; will at last be blotted out entirely, I very much fear.” ‘* And should he fail you, Guy?” ‘“Then Heaven have merey upon me; I be- lieve I shall go mad, too.” mn) For two days he nursed and ministered to Roger Bennett as if be bad been dear to him as a brother, and the beneficial results of the treat- ment became apparent. Still, he did not as yet dare to mention the object of his visit, though they talked upon other sut jects, and it was not until twenty-four hours later that anything was said of it and then it was in reply to the direct question: y ‘‘ What brought you here, Guy?” ‘‘Do you remember the last words you said when I was bere before?” “No; nothing.” ‘* You said, wait until my turn came and then I would see, or something of the kind.” ‘* Well?” ‘* My turn has come!” ‘¢ What do you mean?’ ‘The accursed Indians bave stolen away one who is a thousand-fold dearer than life,” ‘Not your—your—” und the depleted form of the Scalp King trembled so violently that be could not finish the sentence, . ‘* No, Roger, not as yet my—the word is too sacred with you to mention—but soon was to ? ‘‘ The Indians carried her away?” ‘t Yee.” ** And bave not murdered or scalped her?” “‘L hope and believe not.” “For that you may thank God—thank Him that there are neither graves in the prairie nor in your heart.” “My poor friend, will time never shed its healing influences over you?” ‘Never! But ”—and the mighty effort at self- control was terrible to look upon—“ but let us talk of yourself.” ‘* You know many of the tribes?” ‘All within a bundred miles. There is not one in whose wigwams you will not find black- ened faces; not one that will not tremble when he hears the tread of my horse or the sound of my voice.” ““Then you can find my lost one?” “Tf above the ground, yes.” ‘‘ Listen, then, and | will tell you all.” It was the old sad tale; the one that has been and will be repeated again, and again, of mid- night assault; burning of home; fiendish mur- der and fair prisoners carried away to be put to torture, or, what is still worse, to be kept in a captivity that every bour, to a sensitive mind, is far more bitter than a thousand deaths. “Have you followed the trail?’ asked the Scalp King, sternly, and yet beginning to be- come interested. ‘To within a few miles of here.” - ‘* North or south?” ‘* Almost due west.” ‘Tell me so that I should know her.” Oliver took a picture from his pocket and ed it to him. It was of a girl who could not bave reached her twentieth year, with soft brown eyes and long brown hair, and, as Roger Bennett sat and gazed upvn it, a tears, for the first time in many a long day, came into his eyes and rolled slowly down his rief-furrowed cheeks. Then he raised it to his ips and murmured fervently the name of: oe Agnes.” The physician knew that be was reminded of his daughter—his eldest one—had often re- marked the likeness between his lost love and the dead girl, and —< something beneficial might arise from it. ut there was nothing at the time to make him confident as to the re- sult. The Scalp King handed him back the miniature with a heavy sigh, and then arose and began preparing his horse for departure. “Where are you going?’ questioned Oliver. “To save—Agnes.” “‘ We will go with you,” “JT go alone. He who follows the Indians must do so with the silence, and swiftness, and certainty of a ghost,” “Then you would have been in just the con- dition 1f you had remained as we first found you,” replied Oliver, with a smile he could not rope No notice was taken of the renark. The mind that had wavered from its balance had power to contain but one object at the same time within its a and, atter repeated of- fers to accompany him nd as many refusals, they saw the Sca!p King lead his horse across the bridge; go slowly down the rocks; then mount and dash away at headlong speed. But once out of their sight, bis progress be- came much slower and bis course was often changed; became as winding as that of a ser- pent and as stil; And when near the camp of the Indians, he dismounted and crawled for- ward until he could see all that was transpiring within. It was evidently of far more irterest than usual, There were sounds of revelry—of the most enthusiastic rejoicing. — He drew still nearer—raised himself slowly and stood so close to and so firmly against the trunk of a tree that a casual observer would have taken him for a part thereof, and saw a sight that would have driven Guy Oliver to distraction and made him rush wildly in—and lose his life. CHAPTER XII. A LAMB AMONG WOLVES. Like a living whirlwind the Indians had swept upon the homes of the settlers, fired their bouses, shot down the men, and with a few ex- ceptions, butchered and scalped the women and children, leaving desolation and asbes in their track, and swiftly returning to their a tg unds upon some far-away stream or in the ense fastnesses of the forest. But occasionally some gir) who was more beautiful than the rest was saved from the in- discriminate slaughter by a chief who had taken a savage fancy for a white-skinned wife, or for torture when it was deemed that the Manitou was particularly angry with them, or unusual failure upon the trails of war or hunting was thought to make such a thing necessary. This had been the case in their last sortie. Even when the dwelling, stacks and barns were aflame—when the cattle and horses were being driven off with the most hideous outcries—when the father and mother and sister and brother of Kate Armatrong were lying either dead or gasping in the last extremity—she had been torn from the hands of a young brave who had dragged her to her knees, wreathed his brawny fingers in ber wealth of nut-brown hair, and was whirling his knife to sunder the scalp from the bowed head. Then, and even before she had time to realize her present safety, sbe had been carried to and thrown upon a horse, a warrior had leaped be- hind ber, and she was carried away she knew not where, , ‘ When she awoke to a realizing sense of her situation, she was firmly bound to a post in the center of an Indian village—bound band and foot—bound so that even the slightest move- ment was torture, and taunted by the squaws and little boys of the tribe with her helpless- ness—taunted, and would have been seriously wounded had not a warrior who stood intentl watching their proceedings, sternly forba when they carried the matter too far. “The child of the pale-face,” be said, “is re- served as a sacrifice to the Great Spirit, and nothing must be done to render her unfit for torture.” More dead than alive, the poor girl listened wildlytg the words, and in the agony of the moment she raised her trembling voice and heg- ged him to instantly kill ber. “The cry of the pale squaw is sweet music [0 the ear of the warrior, and will be still move to
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a the Manitou,” was hisreply. ‘Even now he is hearkening unto her.” In all ordsiary circumstances Kate Armstrong was a brave girl—much more so than was com- mou—was so by nature, and life upon the bor- der had made her strongly marked in this par- ticular. This, and the knowledge she had of the character of the red-men, taught ber to assume a bravery she was very far from feeling, and she nerved herself and answered: ‘Better take me back and crawl upon your knees for mercy. For every hair of my head that falls a warrior of your race will bite the dust,” ; ““And the squaws and pappooses?” he ques- tioned. ‘Will remain unharmed. My people do not make war upon women and children.” It was a bitter home thrust, and the Indian winced under it. His face grew black with frowns, and his hands lg sp sought scalping-knife and tomahawk. Ind 80 great was his anger that the life of the girl trembled in the balance, and had not other chiefs, ac- companied by the Medicine, arrived at the mo- ment, she would have been stricken, brained, at his feet. Her fate—not what it was to be, but the mode —was to be decided upon, and they bad gath- ered to discuss the almost fiendish murder that was to be done. And she was to hear all—to be tortured in anticipation, for with even more than their customary brutality, every word of the conversation was made known to her, clear- ly interpreted, even forced upon her memory. The usual pipe-smoking having been gone through with, one after another arose and stated his views with regard to tie matter, but all were finally overruled by the Medicine, who claimed her as a sacrifice to the Great Spirit, whose officer he was upon the earth. “She must perish on the altar,” he said; ‘there is no other way to appease the wrath of the Great Spirit.” “By fire?” “When the soul is gone out in torture, then her body must be entirely consumed and the ashes scattered to the winds. Ay, first must the blood be dried up, the heart torn from the still living breast, the flesh crackle in the flames.” “Horror!” burst from the lips of the poor ' prisoner. ‘Ob, Heaven! must these things be? Are your hearts stone? Are ye flends to thus condemn an innocent one to the most terrible torture?” ‘‘ Innocent?” was hurled back by a hundred tongues. : i ‘““Yeg, innocent. How have I ever injured you?” “How many of our people, just as innocent Se Ee aan a ; a ng The bare mention of the name caused all to look around in fear—look upon every side as if they expected to see him come stalking into the circle and carry nied , a away before any id raise a han efen rad the G seen his face a3 he stood watch- img and listening to their proceedings—have seen the lines of almost devilish enmity and re- venge that were strugelin upon his face, they would have shrunk from further torture of the poor defenseless lamb—wolves that they were. But fortunately for their peace of mind, they knew nothing of bhe near presence of their dread. ful enemy, and still gloated upon the deeds of diabolical torture that were to be done, ‘“ When shall the sacrifice be made?” asked the chief. “To-morrow,” answered the Medicine. “ Why wait until to-morrow? The bearts of our brothers are longing for torture. Even now the pale-face may be upon the trail and by to- morrow the Scalp King may find out what is going on and swoop dowa upon us from his den amid the rocks of the mountain.” ‘“*Not so. The warriors of the pale-face will not dare to follow the trail of the red-map until they have gathered in great numbers, and it will be moons before the Scalp King will mount his horse again.” ““Why? How do you know?” were the eager questions, “I was seated armong the bones of the dead in the burial ground of our people, communing with the Great Spirit, when be returned from being hunted by the red warriors and was driven like a rat to his hole. His horse was as one who had run very far and could scarcely crawl along, and the rider was red with blood from bead to foot as the berries of the summer in the autumn time... His head was bowed low and his lips tortured with pain. His face was scarred nee |! S a SS Se Be Eee ee eee eae The Scalp King’. as if he had been fighting with the sharp-clawed wild-cat, and his arms hung powerless by his side. No, the red-man need not fear him until his wounds have healed, even if he does not faint, famish and die in his den.” Though the story did not correspond with the report of the wounded men who had been driven from the cave and barely escaped with their lives, while their companions were slain, yet it was not noticed, or at least no comment was made upon it, and the chief asked yet again: “Why wait until to morrow?’ ** Because the stars have sung it and the winds whispered it into my ears. To-morrow is the time when the dance of thanksgiving will be erformed by the tribe for the breaking of the icy chains of the Frost King and the coming of Seeg-wun, the sweet spirit of spring.” ‘To-morrow, then, let it be.” ‘** But will no other sacrifice appease the of- fended Manitou?” asked the chief who had saved the girl from death and brought ber chither, ** None,” ‘*He would have her fill his wigwam—become his wife,” ‘* She must die!” ‘He will give many gifts. Let the Medicine think. Is there nothing that can save her?’ “ Nothing but the Scalp King and—” ‘He is here!” thundered the man himself as he strode into the circle. ‘‘ Here to take the lace of yonder poor innocent girl, Let her go ree and do with him as you will!” For a few moments all were paralyzed, and taking advantage of it, he cut away the bonds from the girl, whistled to his horse, whispered a few words in her ears and turned the horse loose, Then he returned, placed his back against the post and calmly awaited their mo- tions, In ‘an instant all awakened from their iron trance, Ry Pir a him in a body, and bound him as never before man was bound, And still he made no effort to escape—still smiled, until he saw the girl dragged back again. Then he raged as a caged lion and taunted them with treachery. But he soon commanded bimself— saw how useless were his struggles—reserved his strength, and asked of the girl in ber native tongue concerning the borse. “He broke away from those who attempted to hold him—stamped some under his feet, and dashed swiftly away.” “ Thank Heaven!’ ‘*But what,” she asked, “isto become of me? Am I to die the terrible death that has been de- creed? You are a white man, and must bea friend.” “Far more than you know, I will save you, if I can.” awry had no time for further conversation— wara burried away to different parts of the -atiage—irmiy pound ana .uardéti-—so ow wmic- rificed together when the light of morning should again a; pear. As for the horse, he had dashed homeward, and up the rocks at frantic speed, and when (tuy Oliver rushed out to welcome back the Scalp King, they trembled with alarm as they ch we he was riderless and stained witb fresb 0 CHAPTER XV. THE ALTAR OF SACRIFICE, Tae action of the Scalp King had very much as- tonished his enemies, ‘They could not understand such self-sacrifice or the motive that could lead to such Sages and no more calculated upon it than he had upon their treachery, though had he riven the subject a thought he would have known that such would have been the result, t Had he sprung among them, battle-ax in hand, and attempted to free the girl, it would have been perfectly characteristic, and they would have com- prehendes in an instant all connected with it, But to do exactly the reverse, to come among them un- armed, to quietly offer himself as a substitute for a prisoner, and that one a girl, was altogether beyond their understanding, and long after he had been bound and rendered harmless. they sat and gazed at him in wonder, and some even with marked admira- tion. This was the case with the younger and unmar- ried squaws, and particularly with her who had gone as a messenger tohim. Despite native treach- ery that had lured her to play the part she had, yet she could appreciate nobleness even in an enemy, and a thrill of almost pleasure shot through her frame as she saw that the one for whom she had ventured so much was fully worthy of it. Had she dared—had he bean a common enemy—she would have exercised the undoubted prerogative of her sex (according to the laws of the . red-man), claimed him for a husband, and thus removed him beyond the pale of death. Such things had been done before within her recollection, and no ill results to the squaw had fo'lowed from the vindictiveness of her + trap ove But the case was very different now. He was an 13 unusual enemy from any that had ever before been bound to the stake and condemned to the worst tor- ture it was in their power to inflict, and she dared not do as her heart prompted; but, suppressing her enthusiasm, watch narrowly every oue who drew near to him. 7 And in something the same situation, though from a different cause, were the warriors. They could not feel assured that the terrible Scalp King was in their power—that they had actualy laid hands upon him—that he was rendered helpless by bonds—that they could calmly discuss Lis fate—that he would not disappear even while their eyes were fastened upon him. Indeed, none would have been surprised in the least if he had suddenly taken wings and flown away like a great bird—if the ¢arth had swallowed him—if he had been transformed to a tree or stone, They went to sleep resting upon their arms, rave the few who were detailed as a watch, and when the midnight hour had come a terrible storm Lurst upon the village. The rain fell with all cf deluge power, and the ground rocked ard trembled as never bad been known before. Of the power of the earth- quake they knew nothing, and attributed the con- vulsion of nature entirely to the Scalp King, for when calm came again he had disay peared! But the girl was still safe, and not a single war- rior slept again—not an eye was closed until the light of morning came, and then they urged the Medicine to hasten the sacrifice. To have refused would have been at the peril of his life, and, after the usual ceremonies, he consent- ed, and led the way to the stone-builded altar where more than one poor wretch had met his fate—had been sacrificed to the god of savege superstition. Vain were her pleadings for mercy and shrieks for help. Such things were the sweetest music to their ears—torture was the dearest food to their brutal souls—blood what they pew fat upon. Suffering from the trials she had already been forced to endure from hunger and thirst, from the eold night-wind and from storms, Kate Armstiong was in a condition to have excited pity even ina heart of stone, but her captors made light of all. With her hands still fettered, she was forced alon over the sharp, ragged stones, through the tangle woods—up the steep billside, and at length stood upon the summit, by the side of the altar. Then indeed her heart sunk within her and she prayed that death might come swifily. But even with her entreaties, thoughts of her lover intruded themeelves, and she wondered if he too bad been swallowed up in the general massacre, or, if alive, was following her and would ceme—too late! But, brief was the time intended to be given ber for thought. Evidently the Indians fe the task they had undertaken and were anxious to get through with it in the most summary manner, It was the Scalp King they dreaded, who had been taken of from them in a whirlwind and might re- appear in the lightning, be cld Medicine, however, wasin no humor to have any of the formalities of the occasion a omioge to be robbed of a single iota of the glory. His part must be played to the uttermost, and robed in all the terrible je ag of his nen = he strutted about, intoxicated with his own importance, and the chiefs eeresie’ to him in vain to dispense with a portion of the ceremony, and put the girl at once to the torture. #Ohe Great Snirit would be offended,’ he said, toute back ee tnat subterfuge as a shield for his ae “But, why should ye hasten? What lave ye to fear? Will not the Manitou protect your Is it the Sealp King ye stand Jn awe of?’ Their faces told that he bad fathomed the secret of their haste, and with a mocking laugh and wild gesticulation he continued: “Do ye not know that the Evil Spirit carried him away in flame and smoke? Do ye not know that he can never barm the red-man again? But, even if he should be living, how can he injure you? You cen see around for miles, and no one can come near without your knowledge.” There was sense in this and their minds became somewhat eased and permitted him to go thrcugh his senseless mummery without further gruml ling. And at length they were finished—the preparations for torture were commenced in earnest and her cries for merey might have been heard for miles around, But who could posribly come to her assistance? Certainly none ef earth, and the red fiends laughed ard Sorte for joy, and the Medicine jingied his bells and rattled his serpent-skins in the very excess of enjoyment. To pinion her more to their mind, the hands of the fair prisoner were momentarily released, and swift as thought she dropped pe her knees and raising them, clasped, poured forth her very heart in prayer. ; “Ay, call upon your Manitou!" taunted the Medi- cine, “and see if he will come.” “God have pity upon me—save me,” burst from her agonized lips. ** Call again!” “Spare me! Oh! holy angels have merey upon me!”* “Bind her until she screams still louder!” was the command of the leader of the red devils. A dozen hands were rudely laid upon the shrinking form of the girl, marveling at the dazzling whiteness of her skin as it was exposed by the disarrangement of the dress upon her shoulder. And as they would have still further tore it away she struggled madly for et oe in their faces and struck the fore- most with her little clenched band until he quailed. Outraged modesty had for the moment given her the strength of a man and the courage of a lioness,
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But all her efforts were useless. Her limbs and hands were fettered, and she was laid upon the huge stone altar. ** Now let the fire be prepared!”’ Dry bark, the resinous splinters of the pine and hemiock—fine moss—pitchy knobs—everything that could produce the most intense flatne were near at hand and were piled around her until she looked as if laid in a huge basket. “God have mercy!” + Her latest prayerrung out as amockery. It could only reach the ears of fiends on earth, no matter what it might have done beyond, and in the wild struggle that gave it utterance, she appeared to have lost all of strength, for not another sound es- caped her lips. She is dead!’ groaned the Medicine-man, start- =n Benge in horror at the result of his damning eeds. But it was not so. He looked again, and saw to his intense relief that she had neither died nor faint- ed, and was astonished at the change. The eyes that had before quailed shot forth brilliant rays; the cheeks that had been ashy were flushed; the mobile lips that had been as chalk were carmine. “Fire the pile!” A dozen torches were lighted, waved in the air to increase their burning, and they sprung forward to execute the will of the Medicine and their own hearts, but paused as prenrypen foe if turned to stone. The prisoner had entirely disappeared. Above the top of the combustibles were ranged a dozen rifles, and from a pair of brazen lips, so loud and strong was at utterance, again came the mandate of: ‘ BE!’ The rifles belched forth their deadly contents, the Indians were driven back, fled appalled, ‘and from the veer. center of the pile of stone sprung forth the Scalp King, followed by Guy Oliver and his friends, loading and with the utmost rapidity, until not ‘ ee in could be seen save those who were already ead, “Go,” commanded the Scalp King, as he busied himself in apg. I away the scalps and throwing them in a pile on the ruined altar, ‘‘ Go, before they have time to rally and cut you oif.” * and you, my old friend?” ‘** Will follow the hell-hounds to the death.” 4 At least you will return part way home with It require an immense amount of persuasion to get him to do so, but at ory hw they succeeded. The rescued girl was lifted and her bonds cut away, and as she was —a led along, she thanked Roger Bennett for his assistance—for her life, and ques- tioned him about his escape on the previous night. “It was a woman’s knife that cut the bonds away —a squaw at that—and henceforward all of her sex and all children are safe from my vengeance. Yes, so I promised the young squaw called the * Northern Light,’ and I will keep my word. But here we part. That is your road. is way lies mine.” They clung to him—did all that was possible for man and woman to do to names him to go with them to civilization, but in vain. e wrung the hand of Oliver, drew the girl to him and called her ‘‘ Agnes,” kissed her as a father might have done a favorite daughter, and then gave a shrill whistle. From out of the tall, dense grass of a slough his matchless‘horse came bounding. He flung himself upon his back, and, without ——e f again at any of the almost weeping group, dashed ously away in the direction of the Indian village. It was the last time Guy Oliver and his beautiful Kate ever saw him—but once. CHAPTER XVI. OVER THE PRECIPICE. Lirxe a thing accursed, Roger Bennett continued to roam through the prairies and woodlands from that day. Some haunting devil seemed ever drivin him on, He could scarcely be said to have a leca habitation. The Indians watched him as well as they could, but he came upon them so suddenly and without warning, that they never were safe. Yet they soon learned that their women and children were no lon- ' ger in danger, though no one but she who had ob- tained the pee from him as a reward for release from the most imminent danger could have explain- ed the mystery—and she was dumb, But it became a fancy with the warriors and the elders of the tribe that, as the cavern im the moun- tain appeared to be his favorite haunt, if they could destroy it he might be tempted to leave that part of the country, and carry on work of destruction in some other quarter. Filled with this idea, they watched about it upon all occasions when they be- lieved they could do so with any safety, and at length fortune appeared to be changing in their favor. The riddle as to how he could so suddenly appear proms Mer cave upon the very top of the mount was solved. The fall season of storms had been of the most terrific violence, and one day, when a spy had been crawling very near and stood upon the identical spot where the fierce battle between the Sealp ing and there war-chief had been fought, he no- ticed that a great tree had been blown down. Curi- osity led him to examine it, and he found it hollow, ; and that there was an opening beneath—penetra it and stood in the home of the Scalp King! Now they had certainly found the means to con- ‘quer him, for, while one party was engaged in his attention in front, another could steal upon him from behind, and either shoot him down like a dog or rush upon and bind him beyond the possibility of escape. But first, he must be caught at home. The game could not be killed or taken until within the trap, The Scalp King. and they were forced to exercise patience for yet a little time. Yet at last their hour came, for, like “The wolf’s long gallop that can tire The hound’s deep hate and hunter’s fire,” they trailed him for days, weeks, even months, and though more than one scalp had been lost, yet they never gave up—never became discouraged, and when (by the aid of the first snow) they tracked him to his rocky lair, they felt as if they were rewarded —as if the prize was already within their grasp, and that night it was high carnival in the comfortless homes of the red-man, And while they were discussing, had decided upon and were making merry over his fate, he lay | freatins within the rocky cave, lost to all of earth lost to all of danger; dreaming sweet dreams, until a per touch was upon his shoulder, and he sprung up to deal instant death around, and saw to his as- tonishment that a beautiful Indian girl was kneel- ing at his feet. ‘You here!” He could not believe the evidence of his own eyesight. “The wolves are abroad upon the trail, and will hunt the stag of many antlers to his lair and kill him even before he can strike a blow.” ** How do you know this?”’ ia. Even now the warriors are laughing over their plans.” ** But how will they get here unnoticed?” ** As I did!” '“ By Heaven! I had not thought of that.” “ Tcame through the hollow where the great tree once stood. It is blown down, and the spies of the red-men have found the trail.’ He dashed away from her, crawled to the top of the mountain, saw that her words were true and then returned, seated himself, and, taking her hand within his own, asked: “* \hy did you come to tell me this? You belong to the tribe of my enemies.” ‘* Because,’’ and she bowed her head into her lap in confusion, and whispered so that he could scarce- catch the words, ‘‘ because I love you.” “ Love me!”’ “When the child of the red-man came to balk the pale warrior she sought to master him with her eyes—and his were the stronger. she been suc- cpssful then he would have sung his last song, for there was evil in her thoughts. Nowshe is a slave to him. Her heart is at his feet. : upon it she will die! If he smiles upon her she will save him,” } Whatever might have been his feelings he saw plain- ly that she was in earnest—that there was no deceit, and the wisdom of binding her still more strongly to him. And perchance her uncommon beauty and loveliness awoke a throb of pity within his breast, and he treated her with tenderness and listened to | the story she had to tell, making up his mind at the same time what it was necessary for her to do. **T thank you,” he said, as he-drew her still more closely to him, ‘* and my heart opens to let you in, Go now. The red warriors will not find me sleep- ing. But they must know nothing of your coming here or it would go hard with you and I should mourn,’ “The pale-face would drive me from him,” she said, sorrowfully. : “No—not so. I am in great danger, and would only have you in safety. Whén the red warriors are baffled she can come again and—”’ “Go with him toward the land of the setting sun?” “ Yes—yes,”’ He did not think what he was promising, and how deeply the words would sink into her heart—become as liféto her. But with their utterance she sprung toward him, twined her arms around his neck, kissed him, and then bowed her head, and slowly re- treated by the same passage that she had come. Satisfied that he was safe from any attack in front, the Scalp King gave it no thought, and turned his atteution to the passage from above. But a few moments of reflection convinced him that if it was inany way disturbed it would be instantly noticed, and removing the rock that concealed the entrance to the other secret passage, he led his horse down- ward and stabled beyond the reach of harm, Then he returned and made his preparations to give his enemies a hot welcome. These were concluded, and hours passed before he was disturbed. Indeed, he had to believe that the warning of the In- dian girl had been premature, when his quick ear caught an unnatural sound, and he knew that his enemies were stealing upon him from both before and behind—that they had entirely cut him off from escape, so far as they had any knowledge. Drawing back into the shadow he watched for their coming, believing that a few would venture down the path from above, rush to the bridge, lower it, and gain the other passage. But in this he was sadly mistaken. They were too crafty to thus ex- se any of their number after the terrible warn- ngs that had been previously given—had well ma- tured their plans, and made a feint of attacking from the rear while they in reality intended to do so from in front by a forcible charge. This was soon proved. ; The Indians had brought with them light bridges (made something after the manner of their snow- shoes) and numbers were thrown across at the same moment and the armed warriors sprung upon them and gained a footing upon the LS yan side, Then they paused and shouted the wild ery-of battle, and the Scalp King could hear others coming to meet them from above, and saw that he would be be- tween two fires. For a single moment he thought of remaining and fighting it out to the last—of trying to cut a way to Hberty through a force that well might make the If he tramples | stoutest heart quail. But he instantly saw the folly of such a proceeding, and he disappeared within the secret pathway. The Indians rushed in from either entrance, and mistaking each other in the darkness, many a blow was struck, and several of them were sacrificed to their fury before the fact was ascertained. Then, with hideous groans they sprung wildly about in search of him who had thus outwitted them, and fairly tore their hair and gnashed their teeth with rage as they saw him standing upon the opposite side of the gulf—saw that his own bridge, as well as those that had been brought with them, had been removed, and that the trap they had prepared tor him had been sprung upon them, No, there was still another mode of exit. True. it | was small, but they could crawl out one at a tm: .and reach the upper air, and they hastily made the attempt. It was useless. Somebody had been . fore them; huge rocks had been tumbled down, and were far too heavy for them to move, even had they not been closely fandeeee together. With groans of despair they sunk back, and gath- ering in a group, drew their blankets over their | heads and began singing their death-song, while the | mocking laughter of their enemy rung in their ears, and his rifle sent to death any who exposed them- selves in the slightest degree. There was nothing left them but to die! They would not have believed that even the Manitou would have had power to extricate them from their se position—that anything could have saved hem from the horrid, lingering death of starvation! But the Scalp King had somewhat overcalculated the strength of his own position. He foolishly be- lieved that none would be left (or would dare) to at- tack him. and, seated so as to command a view of the opening to the cavern, he gave no heed to any- thing else. It was to him the most perfect and sat- isfactory hour he had ever had of vengeance—was like a draught of cool water toa man dying of thirst —food to the poor wretch in the gasps of starvation. To Every ting. else he was deaf and blind, Yet there were others who also had dreams of vengeance, and dark forms were coming up the mountain-side—stealing along like shadows, and | without the slightest warning, half a dozen warriors sprung upon and attempted to crush him down to the earth, while the outcries gave to their imprisoned companions the hope of oer, relief. The struggle was a d and fearful one. Al- though taken at a great disadvantage, the Scalp | King gained his feet, and tearing away the grasp of | one that had been fastened with bull-dog tenacity upon his throat, he hurled him bodily into the abyss , below, and his shrieks would have been sweet music to his ears had he but the time to listen. Another was disposed of in the same manner, and a third fell bleeding and helpless from the deeply- | driven blows of his knife. But there yet remained | three, and his strength was giving way before their | united assaults. Like wolves they endeavored to as him down—were fastened upon neck, arms and bs, and a giant could not long have withstood their united force. On the opposite side their brothers raged like fiends that they could be of no assistance—were forced to look on without the power to strike a single blow, and could do nothing but. encourage with their shouts. Yet it appeared as if even this were no longer needed. The Scalp King was rapidly | failing. Blood was crimsoning his lips, forced as it would seem from his heart by Be ee ex- ertions; his eyes were starting from their sockets: his limbs trembling like one with the ague; his breath coming from between the purple lips as | blasts from a furnace, and his cry of deflance was | growing very faint. One combined effort more, and he would be helplessly at their mercy. For a single instant he had tormhimself free; had ib a little space between them. They rushed upon | him again, ut he sprung aside, and they were hurled ——— and fell interlocked; and before they could recover themselves, he had ed away. But not toward the foot of the mountain, There were too many to fared oa him, and, with the exer- tion of all his remaining strength, he climbed upward and stood upon the ae ager ledge. The bridge was hastily thrown over, and the war- riors, released from their imprisonment in the cave, dashed in pursuit. They were strong-limbed men, unwearied, and with every possible incentive to re- venge. And not long were they in finding and_fol- lowing the path he had taken—not long in reaching the bald rock. His position was now as the deer whom the wolves would drive over a precipice— death before and death behind. It was a terrible situation for mortal man to be ey oe in, and yet there was no shadow of fear upon he face of the’ Scalp King. He was breathing for some desperate effort—stood braced—with his feet resting upon the outermost verge of the rocks, that rose an almost perpendicular pile for a thousand feet. The dark circle closed steadily around him, with fire flashing from their eyes and black revenge boiling in their hearts. But not a sound escaped any am All realized by how brittle a thread hung the life of their enemy, and they almost trembled for fear some incautious movement should hurl him down—down—to utter destruction—to be crushed beyond the power of recognition—not to leave enough for them to fatten their revenge upon! | e heard their coming, turned round, confronted them, and never had he appeared so utterly reckless —never so confident in his own powers. ** You think, blood-loving wolves!” he hissed from lips of scorn, “‘ that I will permit you to take me. Is there any two of you bold enough to come and try the venture? Aha! Cowards that you are, you
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shrink back from even the sound of my voice, and how much more would ye do so from my arm, Come on! I spit at and defy you, miserable, yelping, treacherous dogs!” They crowded still closer! Knowing that he was weaponless they ventured. Had his rifle been in his hands it might have been possible for him to have kept them in check for yet a little time. folds of the serpent was not more helpless! Yet still he defied and taunted them with cowardice and baseness—laughed triumphantly at the number of scalps he had taken, and appeared to glory that death for him was so very near. They crept still nearer! When he had ceased speaking the silence became so intense that each vould hear the breathing of his own heart, Yet he remained confronting them— Now the tiny dove in the crushing | | The Scalp King. ‘*Some of them.” ‘““You know how he can appear and disappear without being seen,” —_ as does the mole, by working under zround,” a Tell us of them, and your life shall be spared, even though you will be driven from the tribe.” Would she reveal? The temptation was as terrible a one as could by any possibility come to a young heart, and no one could have blamed her had she done so, And very few would have hesitated for ' even a single instant when life was standing upon the one baud, and that which causes the heart to | shudder and grow sick, even atthe thought, upon ' the other. ing as if he intended to spring upon the first who | came sufficiently near, grapple with him, and both go over the fear!ul brink together! Still wore nearly they elosed around! Already they had crouched to spring—already the | 5 4 Me Slik ¥, ' the frame of every young warrior who was within word was being passed along the line, when they were startled by a scream so terrific as to cause them even for a moment to forget their revenge; | and when they looked again they saw with a shud- der that the Scalp King was in the act of leaping from the precipice. Saw him disappear, and rushed with shouts of disappointment to the bottom, to wreak what little malice they could on his mangled form! CHAPTER XVII. THE SQUAW BRIDE. Tux Indians searched in vain for the body of the | Scalp King at the foot of the cliff, But far above them they saw poungh ning hanging in a tree-top whose gnarled roots were twined around and found scanty life amid the crevices of the rocks, and be- lieved he had been caught while descending, and would forever remain suspended between heaven and earth. But they were again mistaken. The brow of the recipice was as familiar to him as the cave where e had dwelt so long, and when the screams of the Indian girl at his terrible situation had caused a mo- mentary diversion in his favor, he swung himself down to a ledge below, where he obtained but an in- secure foothold, and creeping along gained a com- paratively safe spot, and with a smile stripped off his hunting-shirt and hurled it downward. it lodged in a tree-top, and completely deceived the ‘Indians, and as soon as they departed, he was at liberty to gain a better resting-place, This was a'work of time and pe: bre very slow in being accomplished, but, after hours of la- bor, he again had elimbed’ to the top, descended upon the other side, was resting and calculating upon his future career. Then he saw a sight that caused more of fear than had even his own perilous sitvation but a brief_ time previously—caused his blood to chill—to almost treeze within his veins, and his heart to suddenly cease its pulsation—his cheeks to blanch and his hand to tremble, even though clinched. The beautiful youngsqew who had so strangely become Legge im be ey power of magnetism, psychology, c y what name you plete, was the hands of the infuriated tribe; was bound to the stake and evidently destined for torture, That they had gained a knowledge of her attachment to him was certain, and equally evident was it to him that her moments of life already were numbered. : A stake had been driven at but a little distance from the foot of the mountain, upon an open space, and all the elements of torture were being gathere with the utmost alacrity. It was joyous work for willing hands, which even the women and children took part in. There was not to be even the mockery of a trial. She ~. noi caught perhaps in the act and alre, oomed. With a apange feeling about his heart, the white man saw the fagots being carried forward to con- sume her beautiful limbs; to roast the very heart that had been beating so kindly. for him in defiance of natural love for her race; that had three times been his shield from a horrible death. It might not have been love, but cr ein something very near akin to it took possession of him, and his teeth were set and his breath drawn hard, With the rapid and keen glances of an eagle, he drank in all that was passing, and almost coolly calculated how much longer it would be before the oor girl would be wrapped in a shroud of flame. han be drew back and altogether disappeared. To make the spectacle the more to be remembered the offending girl was stripped to the waist, and many hands were busy sharpening splinters to stick into the soft skin that was already quivering with fear. These she knew would ignite with a breath, and ona they burned furiously, would expire after leaving great blisters, but without doing any thing to lessen the chances of life. Then the wood was piled cunningly around so as to produce the most intense heat without becoming dangerous; to produce the most acute pain without depriving her of sensibility, and so, also, that the wind would blow the smoke away without leaving a chance for suffoca- tion. In fact, every thing was prepared in the most artistic method of doubly-refined savage torture, and yet the demons lingered before applying the match, to make her feel to the full what was com- ing, and even ree life—upon one condition. ‘What is it?’ she gasped, for who would not have been anxious to escape from such a doom? ** You know the secrets of the den of the pale-face?”’ was asserted rather than asked. Yes, the trial was a terrible one, and the poor girl bowed her head as low upon her breast as her bonds would permit, and tears started into her eyes. keeping his eyes fixed upon every movement—look- | But asif unworthy of her lineage, she shook them off—quelled the involuntary trembling of her lip— forced her heart to still something of its wild beat- | ings and the blood that was coursing through her veins with a spring-time flood to flow more tran- uilly, and answered in a tone that thrilled through | the sound of her voice: “The Northern Light can not tell any more than | the warriors of the red-men have found out.” ‘It is false as the Manitou of the ‘“*She did not say that she did no she could not tell,” ‘She loves the pale-face!”’ ** Ay, love binds her tongue." A hundred hands were raised and would have done her injury had not the chief sternly forbidden her being injured, But, this was not done on ac- count of any pity for— _— in his anxiety to gan the knowledge he so longed for, That accomplished, and though he would have cut her bonds and pro- claimed her free, yet he would have taken good care that she would not have traveled far before her death was compassed by other means, Drawing nearer to her he whispered the most al- luring offers that were in his power—tempted by promises that would have driven her wild with de- fight before the advent of or rather her love for the pale-face—promised to make her rich in robes, bianketés horses, wampum—to give her the choice of the young braves for her husband—to even make her his own wife! But she steadily turned a deaf ear to all, and murmured, sadly: ** She will die.” ‘* And the miserable dog of a pale-face shall not escape even though you throw away your own life.” “He has never_attempted to do so!” she re- ee proudly. ‘‘Had he kept his scalps he could ave covered many &® wigwam with them. Look around and see how his arm has thinned the ranks of your warriors,’’ she continued with enthusiasm, for if she must die it was glory for her to do so for so great a warrior. ‘‘Has any man of red blood ever equaled it?” “ Silence!" “Twill not be silent! With my last breath I will sing bis name.”’ ‘Let her tongue be torn out!” shouted the en- raged braves, ale-face |’ know but that “Let - ~— be fired and her accursed body be . She is a disgrace to the tribe and her people would forget that such ever lived.’ “One moment,” she exclaimed, raising both her head and voice, “You would know of the secret paths of the Scalp King. Yonder is one—look /” The stone side of the mountain appeared to have crumbled away. An unknown opening yawned, be- fore their eyes, Then from out the darkness pa the majestic black horse and his rider—black an terrible as a thunder-cloud that is riven by the light- ning, and with wondrous bounds cleared the inter- vening space between him and the prisoner, cut her loose, r her before him, and, tiving. his spurs rowel deep, drove madly onward! The movement. was so sudden—so unexpected that allhad given way. But, when they saw it was not a spirit with eyes of fire and breath of flame, but simply the well known steed and his matchless rider, their feelings found tongue; the rocks rung with their wild yells; the sun was almost darkened by their arrows, and the fugitives might as well have ed through a whirlwind of flint and steel. Although his movements were somewhat impeded by the half-fainting girl thav clung around his neck, yet he endeavored to shield her as much as was pos- sible aud continue his flight, which, serhen rapid at first, was momentarily growing slower, for through such a storm no mortal horse could ever have passed unscathed. And both of the riders were wounded, both bleeding, and the face of the girl that was up- turned to the man for whom she had given up home, country, tongue and people, told of intense suffering. Then again the nobleness of the brave girl was re- vealed. She pleaded that he would leave her to her fate, or rather that he would with his own hands put an end to her life and seek his own safety. “The horse is tired with his double Naber tea she said. ‘ He is wounded. But if not overloaded would even yet break through and carry the pale-face be- yond the reach of the red-man,”’ ‘He must do so now!”’ was the decided reply. ‘He will not—can not! Let the pale chief listen. | | | For the love which he bears the child of the red-man, | let him kill her!”’ “Not until I see that all hope is lost. Then_I will | strangle you and dash out my own brains! I have sworn never to be taken while life is left.”’ The ranks of the enemy were closing some them but the most had passed beyond, and he saw that | take. 1 the most desperate battle would have to be fo t in the direction which he now had determined to With a few whispered words to the girl, he wheeled his horse and dashed back toward the rocks. But the noble horse had almost outrun his strength; his speed momentarily slackened—must soon be nothing better than a walk—and then? The brain of the Scalp King fairly whirled as he thought of it, and made the most desperate efforts to reach the Too late, alas! too late! Like buzzards to a feast of blood the Indians were closing around him—were almost within reach, Already a few had gained his side, but the whirling bactle-ax that brought instant death still wr them somewhat in check. Too late—alas! too late for help. The rocks were very near—they could see into tLe opening that was life to them; but at that precious moment the faith- ful steed stumbled, reeled, fell and threw them heavily to the earth. Butin an instant both were upon their feet, “Turn now and run for life!’ he cried, as, seizing the girl’s hand, the Scalp King made such a might burst of speed as has rarely, it ever been equaled; and, even as the red warriors were almost about to lay their hands upon him, fell exhausted in the mouth of the little o peng n the rocks! Instantly dragged back by the girl, he was beyond the reach of their weapons, and when they crawled near, he raised up painfully, whispered a few words; she assisted him to gain his feet—to press upon a lever, and down thundered between them and their baffled enemies piles of loosened rocks! No, they were not yet baffled. The Indians knew that they would retreat to the cave, and followed them by every possible path—saw them standing leaning upon each other—crowded around, into the cavern, and then—? There was a sound as of the most terrific thunder —the upheaving as of an earthquake—the mounting of flame as from a voleano—the body of the cavern was blown out by the mighty explosion—the air was filled with fragments of human bodies, and then all was silence, and blackness, and ruin. With his latest act the Scalp King had fearfully remembered and kept his oath, He was never more seen or heard of by the red-men, though his history is even yet told in whispers by the old men of the tribe to their wondering and shuddering children. From amid them he passed, as they believed, in the whirlwind of flame and smoke that caused the death of so many of their number—was believed to be buried, with his dusky-skinned love, in the ruins. Such was the tale that spread over the border like a prairie fire, and even Guy Oliver and his fair young bride would have b lieved it and mourned for had not the young physician accidentally discovered the form of Roger Bennett lying dead upon the spot base his wife and children had years before been ried. ' Their bones are now common dust. But of the beautiful and brave Indian girl there is nothing left but a memory—as soon will come to all her race. THE END, | shelter of the rocks. The Great American Story Paper! Beatles Weekly The Best Weekly of Popular, Entertain- ing and Useful Literature Pub- lished in America! Its Unrivaled Corps of Contributors, almost all of whom‘write erelusirely for its publishers—embraces the follow are of world wide repute— Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, Al W. Aiken, Cant. Fred. ‘Whittaker, i Mayne Reid, Joseph E. Badger, Jr., Edward L. Wheeler, Charles Morris, Oll Coomes, C. Dunning Clark, Buffalo Bill, White Beaver, Buckskin Sam, Major Dangerfield Burr, T. C. Harbaugh, Philip 8. Warne, William R. Kyster, Antbony P. Morris, Launce Poyntz. . 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sate BEADLE’S | HALF-DIME | LIBRARY. }—_—— By Edward L. Wheeler. Yellowstone Juck, Kansas King. By Buffalo Bill. The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Captain Mayne Reid and Captain l’rederick Whittaker. Vagabond Joe, THE YounG WANDERING JEW. By Oll Coomes. Double Number, cts. Hill Biddon, Trapper. By E. S. Ellis. The Flying Yankee. By Col. P. Ingraham. 8 Seth Jones. By Edward 8. Fllis. 9 Adventures of Baron Munchausen, 10 Nat Todd. By E. 5S. Ellis. kl The Two Detectives. By A.W. Aiken. Gulliver’s Travels, By Dean Swift. The Dumb Spy. By Oli Coomes. Aladdin; or, Tae WonperrcL Lamp. Khe Sea-Cat. By Captain Fred. Whittaker. Robinson Crusoe, (27 Illustrations.) Ralph Roy. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyages. The Phantom Spy. By Buffalo Bill. The Double Daggers, By E. L. Wheeler. Whe Frontier Angel. By Edward 8. Ellis. The Sea Serpent. Py Juan Lewis. Nick o° the Night, By T. C. Harbaugh. Diamond Dirk. By Colonel P. Ingraham. The pt Man! ge er By Roger Starbuck. Cloven Hoot. By Edward L, Wheeler. Antelope Abe, THz Boy Guipr. Ol] Coomes, Buffalo Ben. By Edward L. Wheeler. The Dumb Page. By Capt. F. Whittaker. Roaring Ralph Rockwood, THE REck- LESS RANGER. By Harry St. George. Keen-Knife, Prince or THe Prairies. By Oll Coomes. Bob Woolf. By Edward L. Wheeler. The Ocean Bloodhound. 8. W. Pierce. Oregon Sol. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. Wiid Ivan. By Edward L. Wheeler. The Boy Clown, By Frank S. Finn. The Hidden Lodge. By T. C. Harbaugh. Ned Wylde, THe Boy Scour. By Texas Jack. Death-Faco, THe Derectrvy. By Wheeler. Roving Ben. By J. J. Marshall. Lasso Jack. By Ol] Coomes. The Phantom Miner. By E. L. Wheeler. Dick Darling. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. Rattling Rube. By Harry St. George. Old Avalanche. By Edward L. Wheeler. Glass Eye, THe Great SHor or THE West. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. ightingale Nat. By T. C. Harbaugh. Black John, THe RoAp-Acent. By Badger. Omaha Oll, By Edward L. Wheeler. Burt Bunker, Tae Traprer. ©. E. Lasalle. The Boy Rifles. By Archie C. Irons. The we te Buffalo, By C. E. Lasalle. Jim Bl cag Jr. By Edward L. Wheeler. y ID oa AON = BR BO CORD RRO ONS DORON Pe i i ed et se CeO = SOMA WON HK OVS Ae ON Ned Hazel. Capt. J. F. C. Adams. Deadly - Eye, THE Unknown Scour; or, THE BRANDED BRoTHERHOOD. By Buffalo Bill. Nick Whifiles’ Pet. Capt. J. F. C. Adams, Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. The Border King. By Oll Coomes. Old Hickory. By Harry St. George. The White Indian. Capt. J. F. C. Adams. Backhorn Bill, By Edward L. Wheeler. The Shadow Ship. Col. P. Ingraham. The Red Brotherhood. W. J. Hamilton. mene. Jack, By T. ©. Harbaugh. Hurricane Bill, By Jos. BH. Badger, Jr Singie Hand. By W. J. Hamilton. Patent-leather Joe. By gh ae 5. Warne. 68 Border Robin Hood. By Buffalo Bill. 69 Gold Rifie. By Edward L. Wheeler. 70 Old Zip’s Cabin. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams, 71 Delaware Dick. By Oll Coomes. 72 Wad Tom Western. By W. J. Hamilton. 73 Deadwood Dick on Deck. By Wheeler. 74 Mawk-eye Harry. By Oll Coomes. 75 The Boy Duelist. By Col P. Ingraham. 76 Abe Oolt, THE Crow-Kiiuer. By A. W. Aiken. 77 Corduroy Charlie. By E. L. Wheeler. 78 Biue Dick. By Captain Mayne Reid. 79/Sol Ginger, Giant Trapper. By A.W. Aiken. 80 Rosebud Rob. By Edward L. Wheeler. 81 Lightning Jo. By Captain J. lr. C. Adams. 2 Kit Hlaretoot. By T. C. Harbaugh. KRollo, the Boy Ranger. By Oll Coomes. Idyl, the Girl Mimer. By E. L. Wheeler. Buck Buckram. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. Dandy Rock. By G. Waldo Browne. The Land Pirates. By t. Mayné Reid. Phetogran? Phil. By E. L, Wheeler. 89 Isla Jim. By Bracebridge Hemyng. 90 The Dread Rider. By G. Waldo Browne. 91 The Captain of the Club; or, Tae Youne Rrvau Aruueres. By Bracebridge Hemyng. 92 Canada Chet. By Edward L. Wheeler. 93 The Boy Miners. By Edward 6. Ellis. 94 Midnight Jack. By T. C. Harbaugh. 95 The RivalRovers. Lieut. Col. Hazeltine. 96 Watch-KFye, THE SHanow. By E. L. Wheeler. 97 The Outlaw Brothers. By J. J. Marshall. 98 Robin Hood, By Prof. Gildersleeve. 99 The Tiger of Taos. By G. Waldo Browne. 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville; or, 4 STRANGE STROKE: FoR LrerrtTy. By Wheeler. 101 Jack HMarkaway Im New York. By Bracebridge Hemyng. 102 Diek Dead-Eye. By Col. Ingraham. 103 The Lion of the Sea. By Col. Delle Sara. 104 Deadwood Dick's Device. By Wheeler. 105 Old Rube, tHe Hunter. Capt. H. Holmes. 106 Old Frosty, THE Gume. By T. C. Harbaugh. 107 One-Eyed Sim. By James L. Bowen. PAABSrSrSr Sr SeSrSrSr Sr Sue ee | ea eee COCO COCO tO WH SODID Ce OWKOSCSE Qtek ewe OCD w o oko ake ake ake o)e ale she 2) SMH Me oe 108 Daring Davy. By Harry St. George. 309 Deadwocd Dick as Detective. Edward L. Wheeler. By | Deadwood Dick, THe PRINCE of THE Roap By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. | By Wheeler. ; ee OT el le eee ee ee ee poset me re ch fd eet fel fee et et jc red el ell el fed fl fe rl frm pet jer ee SS “ | ne The Black Steed of the Prairies. Whe 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 Wiimer. By G. Waldo Browne. Gilt-Edged Dick, Will Somers, THe Boy Derective. Morris. Miustang Sam. By Jos. EB. Badger, Jr. The Branded Hand. By Frank Dumont. Cinnamon Chip. By Fdward L. Wheeler. | Phil Hardy, Tur Boss Boy. By C. Morris. Kiowa Charley. By T. C. Harbaugh. Tippy, THE Texan. By George Gleason. Bonanza Bill, Miner. By Ed. L. Wheeler. Picayune Pete. By Charles Morris, Wild-PFire, Boss ortTnHe 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. 58. Ellis. Boss Bob, THE Kjne or THe BooTsuacss: | or, THE PAWNBROKER'S PLoT. 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, By Edward L. Wheeler. Judge Lynch, Jr. By T. C. Harbaugh. Blue Blazes. By Frank Dumont. Solid Sam. By Edward L Wheeler. Handsome I by By Charles Morris. oO SO BO OS BS RO OS 0S 0S BD 0 00 ON et at et pret prt et et pt et Cw SODUAMNRWONW HK OODIAUHwWNS © www FRR WOODARD WOM OO DUGG Sear-Face Saul, Coomes. Daint Captain Ferret. | Silver Star, TH: Boy Will Wildfire. Sharp Sam. By J. Alexander Patten. A Game of Gold. By Ed. L. Wheeler. Lance and Lasso. By Capt. F. Whittaker. Panther Paul. By Jos. KE. Badger, Jr. Black Bess, WILL WiDFmRe’s CER}; or, Winnina AGArmst Opps. By Charles Morris. Eagle Kit, THe Boy Demon. By Olli Coomes. The Swerd Hunters. ¥. Whittaker. Gold Trigger, THe Sport. T. C. Harbaugh. Deadwood D Tue Pickep Party. rf Mike Merry. By Charles Morris. 4 nag | Frank of Colorado. Buffalo Bill. The Lost Captain. By Whittaker. The Black Giant. By J. E. Badger, Jr. New Work Nell, By E. L. Wheeler. Will Wildfire in the Woods, Little Texas. By Oll Coomes. 4 Dandy Rock’s Pledge. By G.W. Browne. Billy Baggage. By Charles Morris. Wickory Harry. By Harry St. George. Asa Scott, Tue Steampoat Boy. By Willett. Deadly Dash. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 9 Tornado Tom. By T. C. Harbaugh, A Trump Card. By Charies Morris. Ebony Dan, By Frank Dumofit. Thunderbolt Tom. By Harry St. George. Dandy Rock’s Rival, By G.W. Browne. Bob Rockett, Tue Boy Dopeérr. By Morris. Captain Arizona. By Philip 8. Warne. The Boy BRunaway. By Lieut. Perry. Nobby Nick of Nevada, E. L, Wheeler. Old Solitary. By Oll Coomes. Bob Rockett, THE Bank Runner. Morris. The Sea Trailer. By Lieut. H. D. Perry. Wild Frank. By Edward L. Wheeler. Little WMurricane, By Oll Coomes. The Hidden Mand. By Chas. Morris. 4 The Boy Trailers. By Badger, Jr. Evil Eye, Kino or Carrie THIEVES; or, THE VuLtTvREs OF THE Rio Granpe. By F. Dumont. Cool Desmond. By Col. Delle Sara. Fred Halyard. By Charles Morris. 8 Ned ra THE Borper Boy. Harbaugh. Bob Rockett, THe Cracksman. By Morris, Dandy Darke. By Wn, R. Eyster, Buffalo Billy. By Cant. Taylor, U. 8. A. Captain Kit.” By Lieut. H. D. Perry,U.8.N. Captain Mask, » By Philip 8. Warne. Buffalo Bill’s Bet, By Captain Taylor. | 5 Deadwood Dick's Dream. By Wheeler. | 6 Shadowed. By Charles Morris. 4 Little Grit, r= Wry River. By Ingraham. | 8 Arkansaw. By T. C. Harbaugh. 9 Featherweight. By Edward Willett. 0 The Boy Bedonins. By Whittaker. 1 The Black Hills Jezebel. By Wheeler. | 2 Prospect Pete. 203 The Boy Pards, By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 204 Gold Plume, THE Boy Banprr. Ingraham. 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom. By Wheeler 206 Dark Paul, rue Ticrr Kixa. By O. Morris 207 Navajo Nick. ByT. C. Harbaugh. 208 The Boy Hercules. By Oll Coomes. Lance, THE Boy Srorr. By Badger. Edward L. Wheeler. aur. By Coomes. By Charles Morris, « é Edward L. Wheeler. Morris, mew SOS! & ow Wee SoVedD DW GD LWW WW Wak ahah akah ah ak ahaa k SS SUN SUSU tN Su ihe he i hn sh Nie ihe thm GO GOGO he OD OO WARDS SO wwe oo x - SoVeeooecocoen — li) wWHnwnrn 209 Fritz, Tax Bounp-Boy Detective. Wheeler. 0 Faro 1 Crooked Cale. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 2 Dashing Dave. By Charles Morris. 3 Fritz to the Front. By E. L. Wheeler. 4 Wolfgang, THe Rosser oF THE RHINE. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 5 Captain Bullet. By T. 0. Harbaugh. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Captain Crack-Shot. By E. L. Wheeler, Tiger Tom, THe Texat TERROR. Coomes. ' A Thrilling Story of Texan Adventure, By Bowen. | | 224 Whe Hussar Captain. Col. P. Ingraham. | ony By E. L. Wheeler. | |; 280 | 235 ick of Doadwood; or, | 278 | 279 | 280 By Oil Coomes. } Frank of High Pine. By Eyster. | Bison Bill, tre Prrwce or BE Res. | 1 1 1 1 1 1 16 18 19 Despard, the Duelist. By P. S. Warne, 20 Tom Tamner. By Charles Morris. 21 Sugar Coated Sam, By E. L. Wheeler. 22 Grit, the Bravo Sport, By Ingraham. wredswnney we | Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent 223 Ozark AJf, Kine or THe MountTarm. By Edward Willett. Dashing Dick, By Oll Coomes. Sam Charcoal, By Charles Morris. Snoozer, THE Boy SHarp. By E, L.Wheeler Dusky Darrell, Trapper. By FE. Emerson. Little Wildfire. By Oll Coomes., Crinison Kate, THE GIRL TRAILER. Col. Prentiss Ingraham. The Yankee Rajah. By C. D. Clark. Plucky Phil, ByT. C. Harbaugh. Gold-Dust Dick. By E. L. Wheeler Joe Buck, of Angels. By. A W. Aiken. Old Rocky’s *Boyees.? Buckskin Sam. Shadow Sam. _ By Charles Morris, Apollo Bill, rar Tram Tornapo. ward L. Wheeler. Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain 3 or, THE Mysterious Rancurno, By P. Ingraham. The Parson Detective, By Oll Coomes. The Gold-seeker Guide; or, THe Losr Movntrarn. By Captain Mayne Reid. Cyclone Kit, By Edward L. Wheeler. Bill Bravo and His Bear Pards, By T. C. Harbaugh, The Tavo *‘ Bloods’, By Charles Morris The Disguised Guide. By Oll Coomes, 244 Sierra Sam. By Edward L. Wheeler. 245 Merle, the Middy. By Col. P. Ingraham. 246 Glant George. By Buckskin Sam. 247 Old Grizzly and His Pets. By Captain “ Bruin’? Adams, 225 226 228 229 By 231 232 233 234 236 By Ra- 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 248 Sierra Sams Secret. By E. L. Wheeler. 249 ilo Romer. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 2558 259 Midshipman Mutineer. By Ingraham. Light-house Lige. By J. F. C. 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 Sam’s Seven, By E. L. Wheeler. The Golden Marpoon, By R. Starbuck. 260 Dare-Devil Dan. By Oll Coomes. 261 Fergus Fearnaught, By Geo. L. Aiken. 262 The Young Sleuths, By Charles Morris. 263 Deadwood Dick’s Divide. By Wheeler. 264 The Floating Feather. By Ingraham. 265 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. ©. Harbaugh. 268 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail. By Edward L. Wheeler. 269 The Gold Ship; or, Mertz, THE Con- DEMNED. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. Blizzard Ben. By Captain Mart Wilton. The Huge Hunter. By Edward 5. Elis. Minkskin Mike. By Oil Coomes. Jumbo Joe. By Edward L. Wheeler. Jolly Jim. By Charles Morris. Arizona Jack. By Buckskin Sam, (Major Sam S. Hall.) Merle Monte’s Cruise; or, Toe Chass or THE Gop Snip. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 277 Denver Doll. By Edward L. Wheeler. The Three Praveen or, THE Mounrarn Monster. By Major L. W. Carson. Old Winch, THe Rirte Kia. Harbaugh. ; Merle MWronte’s Fate; or, PEARL, THE Prrare's Pripw. By Col. Prentiss Ingyaham. ~ Denver Doll’s Victory; or, SKULL AND Cross-Bones. By Edward L. Wheeler. The Typo Detectty ss or, WEASEL, TH) Boy Tramp, By Edward Willett. Indian Joe} or, THe WHITE Spirit or THE His. By Major L. W..Carson. ~~~ The Sea Marauder 3 or, Mmrie Monte’s 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 By T. G 281 282 283 284 Pieper. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. | 985 Denver Doll’s Decoy. By E, L. Wheeler, | 286 or, Tis Josh, the Boy Tenderfoot; Wiup Men or Bouzzarp Bar. By Mark Wilton. Billy Blue-Eyes, THe Boy Rover or THe Rio Granpy. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 288 The Sealp King. By Capt. J. F.C. Adams 289 The Young Detective; or, Jorry Jus Curr Casg. By Charles Morris, 290 Turk, the Ferret, By E. L. Wheeler. A new issue every week. The sEale- ome Library is 287 for sale by all by mail on receipt of six cents each. ADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York.