Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 43) (1878 05 21)
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1A n LN) WN i foal | LLL LILA, tt nt i! a! a! i! a aS Vol. TIT. ,fingie, THE PONY EXPRESS RIDER. BY FREDERICK WHITTAKER, AUTHOR OF “‘ THE SEA-CAT,” “‘ THE DUMB PAGE,” ETC., ETC, CHAPTER I. THE MAIL STATION. A wow adobe* hut, with about the same amount of comfort that exists in an ordinary stable in New York; a large corral behind it, in which some twenty wiry little mustangs were playing about; a stockade near the hut and ning into the corral; a stone gran within the stockade, loop-holed and iron-portaled; two men lounging in the sun in front of the hut, one smoking, another cleaning his revolvers; behold the appearance of Dolores Station, Pony Express Route, in Nevada Territory, some twenty years ago. The two ner were widely different in external appear- ance and seemed to be so in character, judging from many indications. The smoker was a short, broad pe igo man, of about fo whose 8 ir ant hand looked a if the comb and they were distant acquaintances, that seldom met, The light-blue uniform in which he was dressed was dirty and careless, the jacket unbuttoned, i cane a shi coe red, now a dingy e, the wsers ragged In the seat and inside of the thigh to the knee, as if from ri , while the huge boots were brown and rusty. The little brierwood pipe was stuck atone side of a grim, determined mouth, and the face of the smoker was that of arough, reckless frontiers- man, The second man was young- er, taller and slighter, as well as Incomparably neater and handsomer. He did not seem to be over twenty, for his face was nearly smooth, a soft brown mustache sare shading his upper m3 e wore his curling chestnut hair long and flowing, under the neat, dark-blue chasseur heh’ which bore in old Eng-- lish letters, on the front, the mysteriousinitials,U. 8. P.E. inclosed in a silver horse- shoe.. The difference between his uniform and that of his comrade was amazing. By the mere fact of its being cut RORR IY, ~~ » *Adobe. Sun-dried brick, the commen material for houses in the climates of California, Mex- ico, Nevada, etc, Dick Darling, Copyrighted in 1878, by BEADLE AND ADAMS. BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. Price, ' & Cents. close and fitting well, and being buttoned up, while the riding-boots of patent-leather were kept oiled and shining, it gave him the appear- ance of a different being. The two revolvers that he was cleaning were already as bright as silver, and yet he continued polishing them with a piece of chamois-leather. Pcoanly his companion removed the pipe from his mouth, and growled out: “Say, Dick, what’n thunder’s the use of clean- in’ up them things? They don’t shoot a bit straighter fur’t, and the company don’t ‘low fur’t. I wouldn’t waste my time, a-polishin’ up them darned old pops.” The youngster addressed as ‘‘ Dick,” smiled. **T don’t know that I waste any more time on them than you do on smoke, Jack, and if they don’t shoot any straighter, at least they don't do any worse for a cleaning.” ‘* But what's the use o’ livin’, ef a cuss has to be a-cleanin’ of himself all the time?’ objected DICK DARLING AT BAY. Jack, with a huge yawn. ‘I sw’ar ef it warn’t fur my pipe, I wouldn’t be worth a Continental these times. Put the pistols away and hev a sociable draw, you finikin’ young galoot.” Dick Darling gave his revolvers a final rub, and then pissed bem: in the patent-leather hol- sters, on each side of a neat belt, that lay on the end of the bench on which he was sitting. As carefully and methodically as he did every thing else, he put away the belt in the cabin, and returned, erm a large and handsome meerschaum pipe in his hand, which he slowly and carefully filled from a neat little pouch. ; Jack in grinned somewhat contemptuous- y: ‘“* What a luxuriant cuss you air, Dick. Kurn’t be content with any thing but a meers’ha’m. out in the Alkali Desert. Durned ef I don’t believe you'll be hevin’ silver spoons out hyar, some day.” “T certainly shall when I get enough spave } cash, Jack,” said Darling, tran uilly lighting his — “What's the use‘ of sinking to the level of a’ beast, because we seldom see any thing but horses? I be- lieve in civilization myself, and you know, Jack, we're ioneers of civilization out ere.” ** Civilization be durned!” cried Hardin, with a grim- ace. ‘‘We’re out hyar to kerry the mails and keep off Injins from Uncle Sam’s stock, that’s what we’re hyar for. Id like to see a Ute brave go fur your skulp some morning! Guess he’d shake the civilization outen you in short order, and spell bounce in darned big capitals. You'll wish you hadn’t wasted so much time a-combin’ that ha’r of — just about them times, I reckon.” Dick Darlin laughed good- naturedly. e seemed not at all hurt by his compan- ion’s rough pleasantries, as he said: “Tll admit that such a predicament might be dis- agreeable, Jack, fut I fancy I should get through it, somehow.” Hardin growled. ‘““Yes, somehow. \ That's what’s the matter. Boy, you don’t know what it isto huga ° grizzly, or meet a red on the war-path. Ef you'd drop that ‘ere cleanin’ up and take to shootin’, mout hey hopes on yer. Asit is, every time yer go out, I never ’spec’ to see yer ag’in.” “Every man to his taste, Jack. I’ve come back safe, several times. Come, you want to be shooting all the time. What say you toa match?” ‘‘Shoot yer all da dollar a shot,” said eagerly. “* Let’s an excitement. at a ardin, git up The mai
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z won't ‘be up fur an hour yet, and it’s your tirn.” “Done!” said Darling, quietly. ‘I must warn you that I’ve been practicing lately, Jack.” “You kin practice all you like,” said Jack Hardin, a little scornfully. ‘‘l’m from Ken- tuck, pardner, whar they Simms the little boys, he they don’t hit a squirrel in the eye, every ime. As he spoke he stalked into the little hut, where the opposite sides were as strongly con- trasted_as their respective owners. Darling’s bed was neatly made, and raised on a frame- work of slender poles, his horse equipments hung on a stand, all hig various garments and accouterments while a looking-glass hung on the . entuckian’s bed was on the-floor, and le every thing was iu order for instant. use, the dirt was carelessly brushed off every ick. in = wi belt and pistols, and the hut. Dick Darling put away his pipe with a scrupulous care, and buckled his t tightly around him, before he followed. Hardin inserted a broad silver dollar in the cleft of a thin stick, threw the stick as far as it would go, and then remarked: “Stick it up thar, youngster. That’s fur enough fur you. J’listand hyar.” | Dick Darling smiled and obeyed, He found the wand, with the dollar still in the cleft, some hundred feet away, where he stuck it into the Gremhieme ving the dollar edgewise to Hardin, en walked back, remarking, quietly: .“ Any fool can see a dollar, full face. Let’s see you. knock it out that way, Kentuck.” Jack Hardin’s face became grave at once. The feat demanded of him required the powers of a first-class marksman. ~“ Wal, Dick,” he said, dryly, ‘‘T’ll not deny that ef you kin hit that ar’ dollar, that ar’ way, you hev improved; but old Kentuck ain’t so wnat Dees arter all. Stand cl’ar.” “Raising -his pistol, he took a steady and delib- erate aim, and fired. The white stick was seen te tremble, but remained standing. It was only grazed. ’ 4 ‘Hardin uttered a disappointed oath, then turned to Darling. .“ Take a shot, young feller,” he said, curtly. “The smoke of this durned pipe got in my eyes that time, but you kurn’t beat it, anyway.” - Without a word Dick Darling fired. .The stick fell, and the dollar was sent flying in the air. ' CHAPTER II. . TWO CURIOUS GIRLS. Mr, Jonn HARDIN removed the pipe from his mouth, and gazed on Dick Darling with an air of new-born respect, for nearly half a minute, without speaking. Then he dived into his trow- sers pocket. and extracted a large silver dollar therefrom, which he extended to Dick, observ- ing: fi Fa’r play’s a jewel, pard. You’ve won her. Thar she is. Two to one you kurn’t do it ag’in, hand runnin’,” -Dick was about to answer, when the low rum- bling thunder of horses ab a gallop struck on their senses, and Hardin started. ‘** By the ghost of Gineral Jackson, pard, thar’s them gals a-comin’ ag’in. Put up yer iron. You hev me this time, but T’ll git squar’ next match, and leave this durned pipe behind. I didn’t think ye hed it in yer.” . While he spoke, he was hurriedly et the discharged chamber of his pistol, and Darling, with his usual neat habits, was wiping out the of his own weapon with the wiping-stick. The sound of, galloping horses came plainer and plainer on the ear, and two equestrians were to be seen approaching the station, from the diregtion of Humboldt Pass. Dolores Station was on the os | Express route, at the edge of the gloomy and _cheerless Alkali Desert, in one of the fertile valleys that intersect that part of Nevada, among the peaks of the Rocky Momitsine: Snowy summits rear- ed their giant heads in the distance on all sides, and frowned weosngly over the green vales along which the Hastings road ran from Salt Lake City to Carson. A branch road forked off at anes Pass to Provo, and along both these routes the Pony _ Express men galloped from station to station, at th» full speed of their game little horses. These stations were the only habitations, save the low brush huts of the Utes, for hundreds of miles, till you came to the old Mission of Santa Clara, where two convents, one of nuns, another of monks, stood in holy rivalry, within a mile of each other. Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. The equestrians coming toward Dolores Sta- tion were not of the civilized order. So much was clear. But whether warriors or squaws was not so clear till a nearer view. Both rode handsome little mustangs, of that beautifully variegated color on account of which the frontiersmen denominate them ‘ paint horses,” which are generally appropriated to chiefs, Both rode in manly -style, striding their steeds with ease dnd grace worthy of a riding-master, and both were fully equipped as warriors. Still, there was something the dress of both, feminine in its character, and a near approach revealed the two riders to be wo- men. Women they were, or rather girls, handsome in face, supple in figure, not yet disfigured by the labors, which turn squaws, at thirty years, into wrinkled hags. From the fairness of their complexions and the cast of their features, it was evident that they were not full-blooded In- dians, but crossed on some Caucasian stock. The texture and material of their dresses, and the fact of their carrying firearms of handsome make, also proclaimed them to be connected with white men, either the wives or daughters of some mountain man, whose traps and rifle were ‘‘ lucky.” As they came up, it was hard to tell them apart; They seemed to be twins, so closely did they resemble each other. Both had great black eyes, high, hawklike profiles, straight, glistening black hair, rounded chins, and full, sensuous lips, like Egyptian queens. It was in very fair English, with a strong French accent, that one of them said, as they pulled up: : si -morning, Darling. How is my Dar- ing?’ Dick Darling flushed up at this address, for he was a modest youth, with all his good looks. “Very well, thank you, Mademoiselle Chev- rette,” he said, in a low voice. ‘‘ How do you find yourself?’ Before answering, the girl sprung off her horse with the lightness of a bird, and stood before the , ew a model for Diana in bronze. ‘‘ Eh bien, Levrette and I are always well. We were out hunting, and thought we would come your way, er Cat’s Eye is on the war-path near your trail. Look to yourselves, you and Blackbeard.” Jack Hardin started. ‘Look here, Chevrette, this ain’t no time fur foolin’ a feller. How do you know that cuss is on the war-path? Is it against us?” ‘** Oh, no,” laughed the half-breed beauty care- lessly. ‘‘ He has too much good sense for that. No. He’s out against us!” And both girl¢ laughed scornfully. Dick Darling looked puzzled. “Tell me vrette,” he said. ‘‘ You’re the quietest of the two. What does she mean?” Levrette, the second sister, answered more soberly : ‘‘She means that Cat’s Eye and Crow’s Foot came after us yesterday, and asked us to enter their lodges; that we refused; and that they swore to follow us till they captured us and made us marry them.” Dick frowned. ‘The insolent do What did you say?” ‘*T said,” replied Chevrette, with ing eyes, ‘‘that my father was a white man, my mother a queen of the Echipeta, and that if a dog of the Blackfeet bit the hand of a Ute brave, he sickened at the taste. I told him to do his best, and fear my revolvers.” “Good fer yer grit,” said Hardin, with em- hasis. ‘‘I want to see the red sneak round yar, that’s all. Ef he meddles with this child, he’ll swaller lead mighty suddint.” Here the second gir , who was called Lev- rette, slowly swung herself off her horse, with a] grace, strikingly in contrast with the active motions of her twin sister, from whom, otherwise, she was hardly to be distinguished. ‘“Well,” she said, with the same freedom of —— and manner which was assumed by hevrette, ‘‘and have you no welcome for us, Darling, when we come to see you? I believe , rough old Blackbeard, here, is more po- Dick Darling stammered and blushed, as he offered the hospitality of his cabin. Jack Hardin, on the other hand, grinned with the utmost affability, and ushered the girls into the low hut as if it had been a palace. “Walk in, ladies,” he said. ‘’Tain’t often we gets a visit from anything but coyotes out hyar. Walk in and make yourselves to hum.” A moment later the two girls were in the hut, and we grieve to say that the fair Chevrette de- liberately pulled out a very large cigar, lighted it at the fire, and commenced smoking, in con- cert with her sister. These two half-Indian girls were curious characters. ‘ Their father, Jean Baptiste Ledoux, had been a fur-trader and Indian-agent of some wealth, who had married an Indian wife, as was the custom of those times. His daughters, whom he had whimsically named Chevrette and Lev- rette (Fawn and pea had received, first, some education at a Canadian convent, then a second one on the prairies. Levrette could play a polka on the piano, talk French, English, and a dozen In dialects, ride a mustang, shoot bow, rifle and, revolver, and fling a lasso. Chey- rette could do all these better t: her sister, and was quite a rapid draughtsman also. Their father, dying when they were at his bmn” ce left them all his wealth, and his wishes that they would go to Montreal to live; but the wild blood of the Indian mother was too firmly rooted in freedom to submit to this. ‘ Eagle’s Wing, head Medicine Chief of the Echipeta, had offered to adopt them into the seibe, and the girls had eagerly accepted the offer. Their wealth made them favorites; they were generous and free; the Indians gave them all the liberty of young warriors; and they were happy, to all Lene S t was only when Dick gee began to ride on the Salt e trail that trouble rose. Both girls fell in love with the handsome youngster: and did not scruple to tell him ‘so. Had he been a man of maturity, they would, perhaps, have been more modest. As it was, th actually besieged the bashful boy all the time, while a score of Blackfoot and Ute braves were equally persistent after Levrette and Chevrette. It was under these circumstances that our heroines enter the scene. ‘HAPTER Il. GOING FOR THE PRIZE, Late in that same day, two men were slowl creeping toward Dolores Station, carefully hid- ing themselves behind eyery rock and bush, and yet advancing nearer all the while, unseen from the station. Both were Indians, and armed with rifles, which they trailed after them in the grass as they advanced. Each carried in his belt, more- over, a large revolver, rusty and grimy, but serviceable. Pretty soon they had arrived at a group of bowlders, beyond which the land was open to the station, and afforded no further conceal- ment. Then both halted and crouched behind the rocks to watch, with the stoic patience of the Indian warrior. These men were true western Indians, of that half Mongol type which is so grim and repulsive. Their faces were broad and square, with high cheek-bones, small eyes, heavy, jaws and low, broad foreheads. _ The streak of paint on their features told that they were on the war- path, and their army clothes, dirty and begrim- ed, announced them as * Regervation Indians,” whom Uncle Sam feeds and clothes, through the medium of ati | agents, till some robbery of the latter drives them to retaliation and all the the wild excesses of a savage nature. Around the station all was quiet and eful. The warm afternoon sun shone on the low hut, the stockade inclosure, the mustangs who were dozing in their straw yard, and on the two brightly-spotted chargers that stood before the door, covered with gay housings. Sitting on the bench before the door was a up of four persons, the sight of which seemed incite the Indians to frenzy, for their eyes began to glare, and the nervous clutch with which they began to handle their rifles portend- ed mischief. The four persons were Jack Hardin and Chev- rette Ledoux, and Dick Darling and Levrette, a very graceful, picturesque group in attitude and surroundings. The blue uniforms of the men, and the bright scarlet skirts of the two girls, with the mingling of civilization and savagery in their costumes, made a very attractive pic- ture for an artist, but the two Indians did not ae to admire i 7 e of them turned and whispered to the other, “Let us fire, Cat’s Eye, Tis a fair shot. We can each take one, and rush for the girls.” Cat’s Eye was a cunning looking with very narrow eyes, whence his name. He laid his hand on the other’s arm. “Tet Crow’s Foot listen,” he whispered. ‘The men must die, the squaws must be ours. Is it not so?”
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Dick Darling. ‘We can take those,” objected his comrade, pointing to the corral. ‘We shall be known, if we take them here. The soldiers may come by, and trail us, and then they kill warriors with the rope.” Crow’s Foot gave an uneasy shrug. An In- dian dreads the idea of being hung, worse than any thing. ; “ Let Crow’s Foot listen,” pursued the wily Cat’s Eye. the trail to Carson, they pass many places fit for an ambush, Let us rouse the Ute braves, lie in wait for them, and slay them in the moun- Crow’s Foot said nothing. He only looked at the girls, and trembled with spite and jealousy. Cat’s Eye continued, cunningly: Then we can catch the squaws, shake the warriors’ scalps in their faces, and take them into our lodges, like great chiefs.” Crow’s Foot listened to the last words with attention. Presently he whispered, “We can do better than that. First let us shoot the men, then rush out and seize girls and horses in the confusion. We can do it and flee to the Apaches. Who can find us there?” “ Cat’s Eye was about to answer, when both started and listened. At the same moment the two Indian girls started up, and seemed to be pointing to the east. The keen senses of all four had caught a distant sound. Presently it. became audible to every one, the notes of a bugle echoing payly from mountain to mountain, mingled with the rattle and clat- be harness and wheels along the Hastings road, Cat’s Eye and Crow’s Foot instantly shrunk down into the smallest space imaginable, and began to P ee either had any sie d to meet the rough cus- tomers of the mail coach. In a_little while more, the tall, lumbering body of the great coach hove in sight at the en- trance of the valley, covered with grayish-white dust, and loaded down with passengers, he six horses in front trotted weariedly along, as if they had made a long stage, and Jack Hardin and his comrade began to bustle about as the coach drew near. As for Chevrette and Levrette, it was evident that their idyl was over for the present. Before the coach was fairly in sight both girls had hurriedly embraced Dick arling, and sprung on_ their gayly-comparisoned steeds, ready to gallop off in a moment, Up rumbled the coach. As it drew up to the door, Dick Darling, neat and trim as ever, rode out of the corral gate on a bright ‘‘ buck- skin” mustang with black legs and tail, leading } fe halter asecond animal. He sat there as if ready for any duty, quiet and collected. With a great clatter and rumbling, the coach drew up at the door, the burly red-shirted coachman flung down the reins and slowly swung off his perch, while bronzed miners who composed the load came piling out. Dolores Station was the terminus of the stage route. Beyond it only the mail were Car- ried, and passengers had to proc on foot or hire or buy the extra horses of the Express Company. In a moment apg Hy goa: ated chaffer- i ing on, while the two ian girls, sitting like btn thos on their frightened and plunging horses, scared at the noisy coach-load, were sur- rounded with eager miners. Dick Darling caught the mail-bag which was thrown him by the coachman, hastily secured on ee calied ony as eae well, an oped away on i “H owattisay THAD IL yee take $5 4, pain elloa, Missy, what'll yer or the paint hoss?” shouted a rough miner, eagerly waving a bag fh gold-dust to Chevrette. give five ounces down on the ” said another, ing to open his pouch. ‘ Don’t listen to th; ¢ galoot, Missy. I’ve got the dust.” “ 1 yar, station-master t any hosses to sell?” said another fellow’ to Jack ardin, con- ms ag & ‘«You bet,” was the laconic mse. _A moment later, there were three groups of miners after horses, but those around the girls were the most numerous and boisterous. It “When the two white men ride on. was all in vain to assure them that the horses were not for sale. The refusal only raised the bids higher, till one burly miner laid his hand on Levrette’s bridle and rudely said: **Come, gal, git off. Hyar’s twelve ounces, two hundred and fifty dollars; and that’s more than any paint hoss is wuth, ary time. The crittur’s mine!” “ Not by a durned sight, pardner,” roared an- other man, seizing the horse on the other side. ‘*Pve offered more’n that a’ready, and hyar’s the dust.” The confusion seemed likely to come to blows, when the clear, sh voice of Chevrette pierc- ed the tumult like a knife, followed by the om- inous click of a revolver lock. “ Let go my sister’s bridle,” said the girl, fiercely, to the disputants in English. In a moment both hands dropped. The miners had thought the girls common Indians rea the clear, idiomatic English astonished em. “The horses are not for sale,” continued the girl, sharply. ‘‘If you’re gentlemen, clear the way for two ladies. If not we’ll make you.” As she spoke, as if by instinct the crowd fell back to right and left, the two girls struck spurs into their horses, and vanished in a cloud of dust, leaving behind them only a vague im- pression of beauty and freedom at which the miners gazed with stupid amazement. CHAPTER IV. THE ENAMORED CHIEFS, In a lonely pass of the Sierra, overlooking the valley of Dolores Station, Levrette and Chev- rette were slowly riding along. The pass was that known as Humboldt’s Pass, the mountains the Humboldt Range. Overhanging pes ices bordered the p and the wild goat and bighorn, not yet scar by the hunters’ long-range rifle, peeped over the lofty pinnacles down at the lay equestrians, who sauntered slowly along, chatting together in French. They were strange girls both, instances of how the wild nature is spe al than civiliza- tion. Spite of their convent education, and the sight of all the great cities of the East, they seemed to be perfectly happy where they were, and to prefer the wild life to any other. Suddenly, as they were in the pass, a crowd of ragged, half-naked Indians sprung up, as if by magic, all round them, and before even the rapid Chevrette could draw a pistol, both girls were prisoners, with arrows, rifles and pistols pointing inet if at their heads, Then Cat’s Eye, ing behind him a bran new scarlet blanket which he had drawn from the agent that morning, swept forward, and said, with a grim chuckle, in lish: ‘: Much heap good, squaw. at tink now Chevrette cast a gate of inexpressible loath- ing on the chief. é disdained to use the In- dian tongue, although she spoke it well. ‘ Well, dog of a Ute,” she said, bitterly. ‘‘So twenty Ute warriors are not too much to take two boat but they must point guns at them. Go. ere is no dog like a Ute.” Crow’s Foot, who stood beside Cat’s Eye, seemed to be more of a brute. Stung by Chev- rette’s words, he raised the long lance he car- ried, and was about to deal the girl a blow with the staff, when Cat’s Eye interposed and pre- vented the blow. “ My brother must be patient,” said the wily chief. ‘It is no use to spoil a squaw, till she grows old and ugly. Leave her to me.’ Then changing his smooth flowing language to the imperfect English he used, he said: “Say, git off hoss, bymebye. S’pose no, I make you.” Levrette, the indolent and stately, had not spoken all this while. Now she raised her voice and demanded: ‘What do you want of us, Cat’s Eye?” “Want squaw. Want make , cook meat, nuns De jpoose,”’ ted the Ute. a , then, why don’t you treat us civilly?” asked the girl, coolly. ‘‘ You must learn to pene a squaw, before she enters your lodge. is no way to do it.” surprise urst into a contemptuous laugh, as he Cat’s Bye stared at her a moment in and then said: ‘You t?ink Cat’s Eye much heap fool but you see no, _ Git off hoss.” in Pook Os In a moment Levrette had whipped ont a re- volver, with a rapidity very unusual to her, and held it cocked against the Ute chief’s head. “Order your men back, or you die,” said the girl, ear She well knew the man she was dealing 3 with. Cat’s Eye was one of the few cowardly~ Indians, and he quailed under the muzzle of the . tol ‘ istol. Crow’s Foot was not to be daunted thus. “Shoot, squaw,” he said, roughly, ‘‘ Crow’s Foot git two squaw then.” He had hardly spoken when Chevrette, who had been. watching her opportunity, raised the. pis- tol she had stealthily drawn from her belt, and dealt the brute a quick rap under the ear, while his attention was directed to her sister. Crow’s Foot drop without a sound, like a felled ox, and the daring girl, scattering revol- ver shots all round her, dug the spurs ly in the mustang, and burst her way through the oup that surrounded her. Cat’s Eye had instinctively dropped Levrette’s bridle, and the girl made iste to follow her sister’s example. The Indians, with loud yells, began to pursue, firing as they went, but it was evident from the first that they were firing wild, and not very anxious to hit. Cat’s Eye ordered them to shoot at the horses, but by the time he could give the order, the anitiats were out of reach of any thing but rifle bullets, and the rifles were empty. A moment later, both girls had disappeared round the base of the hill, and the discomfited chief saw that the prey had escaped him, He took his disappointment with all the stoicism of an Indian. A white man, under the same circumstances, would have made the air blue with profanity. Cat’s Eye simply squatted down on a rock by his partner in iniquity, and calmly waited the latter’s recovery. Crow’s Foot was not long in coming to. The Indian skull is thick, the Indian’s constitution strong. In a very few minutes the Ute chief opened his eyes, gave a stupid grunt, and then Wh ‘Where are the squaws?”’ he asked his com- rade. “Gone.” ; Crow’s Foot gave another grunt, and relapsed into dissatisfied silence. ‘*We must leave here,” presently observed the wily Cat’s Eye. ‘‘ The squaws have gone to the 1 ges of the Echipeta, and they will be after us,” Crow’s Foot grunted again. Presently, he said: “Let us get horses and go on the Carson.trail at once. e riding chief is there, and we can ait him, wing , came neck, By Lager Pc: the ipeta wi goi ome again and we ma ste Bhan in the back.” m Cat’s Eye’s face brightened with pleasure. **My brother has spoken well. e will seize the Station horses, this very night. The best will be left. Is it good?” Once more Crow’s Foot gave vent to the ex- pressive Indian grunt, which means any thing the warrior chooses, according to the expres- sion of face which accompanies it. Then the whole party rose and tramped off down the , till they came to a spot which commanded a view of Dolores Station in the valley below them. There lay the station, silent and peaceful to all ap ce. The corral only contained about a dozen horses, instead of the usual crowd, and a cloud of dust going down the valley to- ward Austin, told that the miners’ party were off with the rest of the animals. The “‘ Pioneer” Coach, lying idle in front of the hut, showed that its journey was over for the day, and the six iron-gray horses that be- longed to it, were feeding peacefully out of a trough in front “« Listen,” said Cat’s Eye, sententiously. “‘ The coach goes Lack to-morrow. Its horses are big and strong, and feed on corn. Let us take them too ak: said Crow’s Foot. ‘‘They will run well.” “‘ And let us kill the men at the station,” 2 sued Cat’s Eye, cunningly, “lest they trail their horses in the morning. Dead men’ can not go to the t and report us.” Crow’s Foot looked at his companion with ad- miration. The rascality compelled his respect. He could ig er it fully. ‘“‘ Look,” he said, pointing to the setting sun. ‘““The time is come. The two white men will Le drunk to-night. Let us go.” Cat’s Eye nodded, and the began to ce- scend the mountain, together with the shadows of evening. PS. peers in as adobe hut, = partes Bee ion, a very snug little party of two wag er- ed. Mr. John of Kentucky, and ae William Grimes, of Illinois (usually called Billy Grimes), were seated on the opposite beds, im--
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4 Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. 1 for consolation to a big demijohn, the ait Yt Mr. Grimes, which stood in the middie of sn Piyar's lick, Jack,” said th stage-dri t ** Hyar’s luck, Jack,” said the iver, a one of these solemn pauses, as he inverted the ee in air, in sacrificial attitude. ‘‘ Drink hearty,” responded the express-rider, with a bob of his head. Then, as the host, he felt constrained to watch the frying-pan, where the fat was beginning to catch fire. ‘‘Supper’s ready, Billy,” he said, affably, set- ting the frying-pan on the floor, and ucing a great loaf of unleavened bread, familiarly known among miners as a “‘ man-killer.” Then, as the two rough frontiersmen set to at their supper, down the mountain, toward the station, crept a score of dirty Utes, hungry for blood and plunder. And darkness came over the valley. CHAPTER V. THE HAPPY VALLEY. Srxtry odd years ago, when Lewis and Clark first crossed to the Pacific ocean, they found the great tribe of the Echipeta, or Blackfeet, the most powerful of all the wandering bands that possessed the vast wilderness of plain and mountain. In that very expedition, also, were laid the foundations of the inextinguishable hate which afterward characterized all the re- lations between Blackfoot and pale-face. The Astoria settlement, the expeditions of Bonneville, Wyeth and the Suble the long contest for the fur trade between the Hudson’s Bay and American Fur Companies, with all their varied episodes of plenty and famine, riot- ous feast and bloody war, only served to inten- sify this feeling. hatever might be done in the way of treaty with other tribes, three sep- arate organizations stood out in the North-west, like the Comanches and Apaches in the South, as‘remorseless foes to the whites. Sioux, Black- foot and Crow were each in their way, equally formidable, but the Blackfoot was the most dreaded of all. The Dakota was a cut-throat, by name and nature, but he made truces for trade; the Upsaroka, with all his beauty of figure and face, was generally only a cunning horse-thief; but the hipeta was a warrior that never rested, day or night; who preferred scalps*to horses, revenge to booty. rty years later, atlin appeared with pen- cil ani pen, to save the remnants of all these powerful tribes from oblivion, and has left a record, obtained during a brief truce at a fron- tier fort, of what splendid fellows were those Blackfeet and Crows. Perfect in physical contour, rejoicing in mag- nificent black hair, in which they took all the pride of a delicate lady, the artist found these wild nomads to be re dandies in persona] adornment, while as skillful as ever in war. mentions the hair of two Crow chiefs as trailing the ground when they walked, in full — and es ite ary era ae as tasteful and picturesque in the highest degree. Both tribes were then uncontaminated by the whites, their attitude of relentless hostility hav- ing served as a means of self-preservation, but in that first parley with the pale-faces, at which Catlin was present, the seal of destruction was imprinted on the two tribes, the noblest of all, by the irresistible hand of fate. At that time, the Blackfeet numbered fifteen hundred bands, or villages, scattered from the British dominions to the present bounds of Colorado; the Cro nearly half as numerous, occupied the present territory of Wyoming, bor- dering on the great Dakota or Sioux nation and both were dreaded by the whites beyond all the rest. In the same year, and during the following spring, the besom of destruction swept away both tribes, and the names of Echipeta and Up- saroka were almost annihilated. What bul- let and knife had recoiled from, fire-water and the loathly disease of civilization was to accomplish, The small-pox, breaking out in that year with fearful virulence, swept over the North-west like a pagal ne. angel; and left, of all the Blackfoot nation, scarce six hundred lodges. Whole villages died like sheep, and the next summer saw the survivors shorn of power and influence, a miserable remnant, that has never since raised its head to check the march of civ- ilization to the setting sun. “A few years ago, when we all heard and shuddered at the merciless punishment inflicted by’ Sheridan’s orders on a. little band known as Piezan few recognized in those poor wretches the little remnant on American soil of the once powerful Echipeta tribe, that had lorded it over the plains, and compelled tribute from the strongest. At the breaking up of the Blackfoot nation one little band, numbering thirty-five lodges at first, increased to seventy in later years, instead of moving to the safe shelter of British territory, as did the bulk of the nation, emigrated south- ward to the shelter of the great primitive ran- ges, then almost unknown to the whites, now included in the north of Nevada. Here, in a large valley, with a southern ex- posure, where pasture was plentiful all the year round, as in California, this little band had held their station, carefully keeping out of the wa of the whites, and increasing to double their original numbers in a single generation. Their chief was now an old man, who had been Medicine Chief of the whole Blackfoot nation in the days of their glory, who had been bitter in his opposition to the treaty which had borne such terrible fruits, and who, on the dis- persion of his tribe, had led a little remnant, composed of the aristocratic Kainna family, every member of whom had a right to sit in the council of chiefs, to the happy valley. Eagle Wing was distinguished by a grave wis- dom of character, that procured.him the ascend- ict rather than by personal strength in the field, and the thirty-five warriors who followed him, being all chiefs, were the very elite of their tribe, and superior to double the number of any other braves. The great Medicine Chief had exacted an oath from every one never to touch the fire-water of the whites, never to trade with them save for weapons, nor to associate with them, unless adopted into the bands. nder his wise and cunning rules, the little tribe, who still proudly styled themselves ‘‘Kainna Echipeta,” had maintained themselves in independence, accumulated the best weapons of the whites, kept clear of trouble with the emi- nts that passed near them, and seemed to be in a fair way to returning prosperity. But one white man had ever seen their camp, and he was adopted into the tribe. This was the French trader, Jean Baptiste Ledoux, who had aided them to procure arms, and whose daughters we have already seen in our aot & Just as the red glow of the setting sun shone on the white mountain-top, above the happy valley, Chevrette and Levrette galloped into the village and halted before the council-lodge, in front of the sara war-pole. The scene before them was quiet and peaceful in character, but picturesque and romantic in the highest degree. The remnant of the Echi- peta had learned of adversity, and their village was a model of neatness. Seven lodges of light-dun buffalo hide, dressed without the hair, and covered with pictures emblematic of Blackfoot history, were ranged in four lines, about two streets, closed at one end with a fifth line of six large lodges, of which the ‘‘ Medicine-lodge ” was the most finished. All the offal and garbage that usually renders an Indian camp so offensive was absent, and a large mound of ashes, indurated by rain and sun, at a distant corner of the valley attested that the Echipeta had returned to the process of cremation, used by their remote ancestors be- fore the European conquest. A flourishing field of Indian corn occupied the und near the ash-mound, and the rest was ull of grazing horses, not the little scrubby ponies of the northern prairies, but the larger and more beautiful mustangs of Texas and Mexico, obtained by trade with the south- western tribes. Many of them, indeed, from their bone and size, gave token of a mixture of more civilized blood at a recent period, and the resence of a large bay stallion, some sixteen tautle high, nearly thoroughbred, announced that the Kainna medicine chief had used his op- portunities for improving the breed. This horse was the best result of a secret raid, undertaken some years before to the frontiers of the Texas settlements, for that very purpose. As a result of his far-seeing policy, Eagle Wing’s band could outride any other tribes in his vicinity, and none dared attack the dangerous knot of tried warriors, : The ene were all kindled at the lee- ward flank of the camp, and the squaws were preparing the evening meal, while the war- riors were gathered in a circle before the coun- cil-lodge. Before this circle it was that Chevrette and Levrette pulled up, and the former called out to Eagle ing, in a loud voice: “Great Medicine Chief of the Echipetas, the Ute dogs have insulted the maidens of thy band. Cat’s Eye and Crow’s Foot, with twen- ty braves, tried to take us to their lodges in the A low murmur of ai’ and indignation i from the circle, and Eagle Wing calmly sai council will hear your tale, and take vengeance for the insult.” age girls dismounted, and entered the coun- CHAPTER VI. DICK DARLING’S VISION., On the walls of the convent of Santa Clara, ponte from view athe corner d the battle- ments, stood a group of women, four in num- ber, all Gremed’ in long sweeping robes, their faces surrounded by bandages like grave-clothes, while their long, sweeping vails were thrown back on account of the heat. The great strings of wooden beads which hung from their girdles, terminating in crucifixes, and the downcast, re- strained look of their faces, sufficiently marked them for nuns, even had not their presence in a convent on that wild spot, remote from hu- man habitation, pointed out that they were no ordinary women. Three of this group were professed nuns, in funereal black, the fourth wore the white ro of a novice or postulant. There was a great dissimilarity, also, between the faces of the nuns and the novice. While the former were commonplace old women, wrinkled and worn, with an expression ing from seeming sanctity to fretful piety, the novice was a young girl whose sweet face could not be hidden even by the disfiguring head-dress of a nun. Her face was perfect in contour as that of a Greek statue, her smile showed ly teeth, and when she lifted her eyes, which was very seldom, their beauty fairly awed one. and serious, dark-blue in color, almost_ black, they reminded one of the gaze of oneof Rafael’s Madonnas. The whole expression of her face was one of saintly purity and rapt enthusiasm, for this young girl was already a fanatic of the most intense kind. Z But such a sweet little fanatic as one might fall down and worship, or follow into any extra- vagance, for the sake of a smile of approval from those rosy lips! Now the little novice stood on the wall, with the old nuns, gazing over a wild, desolate land- scape of barren, snow-capped mountain and i ow-baked plain, without any sign of human abitation or cultivation, beyond the convent garden, which supplied them all with food. They stood by the stone bell-tower, watching for the sunset, when the Angelus was to be sounded; and as they waited, the four nuns chatted, in the innocent convent prattle that was habitual with them. id you see Sister Felicia this morning, Sis- ter U: ¢ She tripped and nearly fell, as she entered the chapel.’ ‘*T wouldn’t be as clumsy as Sister Felicia for a good deal,” grumbles Sister Ursula. ‘‘ She spilt the soup on the refectory floor, and T had to scrub it up this ards ge wish she’d stayed ee Guadalupe, instead of the bishop sending her ere. Sister Felicia was a -hearted, clumsy, Mexican poblana, who conceived it her mission to become a nun, but obliged no mpotey c to endow a convent, she was obli to do the rough work, in common with the poorer sis- tersin general. ‘Poor Sister Felicia,” said the sweet voice of the youthful novice, pityingly ; “it is not her fault that God made her clumsy, Sister Agatha. She is so good and kind when we are sick, that we ought all to love her.” Sister Ursula turned aside to Sister Catherine, and Miip = Faker ‘*La Chiquita is a little angel, Katrina. She makes us all ashamed, with her sweet ways.” Sister Agatha tossed her head. She did not love Sister Felicia, if she was a sister nun. The little novice turned away her sweet, seri- ous eyes, and began to talk in tmusing, half- unconscious manner that often marks the reli- gious enthusiast, asshe —_— over the landscape. “How good our Father in heaven is, Ursula, to have put us where he has, in our little fold! If we were in one of the convents near the city, it would be so much harder to turn away the soul from the world and its pleasures, to the duties of a bride of our Lord, Here we see nothing but heaven and its Maker’s works, and nothing can disturb the serenity of our contem- lation of the Divine Mystery. Oh, what a Blessed lot is ours!” “Dismount, daughters of the Echipeta. The -
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Dick Darling. Even while she was ing, came a low, thundering sound, which soon resolved itself in- to the regular hoof-beats of a horse at speed, and the three old nuns started and began to listen. The sound came from the plain below them, but the horseman was yet invisible, being hid by an angle of the tower. “Tt is the mail-rider,” said Sister Ursula, hurriedly turning to bustle down the tower steps. ‘The bishop promised to send Reverend Mother some papers from Los Yanquis, and I Lage ae ae a +4 t as he oped and waved it toward her me = peli ; He even checked his horse to a slow canter, for the novice, in spite of her alarm, had some- how not shrunk out of sight entirely, and until he turned the angle of the castle and disappear- ed, Dick’s eyes remained as if riveted on the graceful form of La Chiquita. Crimson still, and trembling from head to foot, the young novice remained as if spell- bound, watching the vanishing of the horseman. Then, as he disa) , she utter- ed a long, quivering sigh, and covered her face with her hands. She raised it again with a start to look at the sun. The sun had disappeared too, and she knew not how long. : With a low sob of inexpressible humiliation and grief, the poor little novice, who knew not her own f , and i she had done a deadly sin, ‘rushed from the battlement, and flung herself on her knees on the stone rampart by the bell-tower door. “ Ring, ring, Sister,” she , rather than ond 9 , Holy Mother of ven, pardon my And as the convent bell tolled out the solemn summons of the Angelus, poor little Francesca sobbed as if her heart would break, and began to pray fervently for strength to resist tempta- tion, and for pardon for the heinous sin she just committed, in looking at a man. And yet she had not done anything very ter- rible to eur notion. Meantime, Dick wapiens haunted by a beati- fic vision of a sweet, serious face, with great, solemn eyes, that reminded him of an an- gel’s, pulled up his horse to a walk, and ap- roached the convent gate, just as the Angelus ed out. Extracting a small of letters from his mail-bag, he uttered a loud, cheery call at the gate, ex ting an answer, in his innocence. Sisters Ursula and Agatha, who had got within twenty feet of the said. te when the bell be- to ring, both renal their teeth when they eard Dick’s call. They wanted letters and news, and did not dare to stir to get them. The Angelus had sounded, and like every one else in the convent, the two nuns were on their knees, gabbling away Paternosters and Aves, a st time. ick gave a second halloo; and then could Away goes the mail-rider, after that touch of . wait ne nae With a — reall sent the package flying over the gate, an te) off. The letters fell between Oreuls and Rost, in the midst of the third Ave. CHAPTER VIL. THE BOY RIDER. THE busy little town of Carson City was hum- ming like a hive of bees in the early morning as the Express Rider ag out of the place and took the old Hastings Trail for his return trip to Dolores Station. He had made three hun- dred miles inside of twenty-four hours on thirty horses, taken a six hours’ sleep, and was now in the saddle again, ready to repeat the feat. i No man but one hardened by constant prac- tice could have performed such a ride, but Dick was young and strong, in constant training, and rode like a centaur. The ny expressmen were used to it, and did such things as a part of their regular life. Away through the mists of early dawn went the mail-rider, erect in his saddle, while the ac- tive mustang stretched away beneath him like an antelope. The mail-bags, simply strapped to the saddle behind and before, so as to remain firm without a symptom of flapping, were care- fully balanced before he set out, so as to dis- tribute the weight evenly. Dick’s saddle was of that plain, serviceable pattern known as the McClellan tree, which combines the best points of Mexican, Comanche, and hussar saddle in one. Without flaps, and resting on a thick felt saddle-cloth, it could be tossed on and girthed tight in half a minute, the time allowed for c hanging horses at stations. Dick was a figure to look at as he galloped away, trim, neat and erect, sitting down deep in the very center of his saddle, his legs hang- ing easily down, with a careless grace that te of long practice.» Loose and easy in Pg See as in his seat, one may observe that he never stirs from his place i pee na “on a a upper part of his y sways arly to the motion of the horse, but from the wales the knee his thighs seem glued to the saddle. The bright, ane boot hangs nearly plumb with the oulder, and the toe hangs down ever so little, resting in the hooded stirrup without effort. One hand held close to the belt-plate divides the reins, which are hardly stretched, feeling the horse’s mouth with gentle touch; the right arm hangs loosely by the side, hove over the pistol that stands at the right hip, 'y for in- stant use. Man and horse, as they gallop along, seem of the same animal, and down the long valley they pass at the rate of twenty miles an hour. Before them is a yellow plain, baked to the hardness of a brick in the long summer of the West. Far ahead, at the other side of this plain, lie the rolling foot-hills that form the outskirts of the Second Humboldt Range and the Interior Bush Range, toward which Dick is galloping. No canter or hand-gallop does the Pony Ex- pressman keep. From the start he has been at full jump, and when the wiry little mustang — inclined to slacken its pace, he shakes the ridle. Away goes the horse, as fresh as ever, and at the same wild . A cattle-herder lounging on his horse in the neighborhood of a gs troop of oxen, who are pluc co Sagi at the dried-up grass, hears the light patter of hoofs and looks up. The oxenstart and stare at the rapid figure that goes past like a flash, the blue rider, erect and lithe, swaying to and fro with every stride, the sorrel mustang with bushy mane and tail, black with sweat as he tears along. A moment later cattle and vaquero are left behind, as the mail-rider scours away over the hard plain, through a field of stunted wild oats, where the trail stretches onward, straight as an arrow, broad and plain, to the east. Now, with a rapid rhythmic rumble of the earth, as the galloping hoofs strike the hard soil in regular beats, the rider flashes h the field, and dashes up a gentle slope on the other side. On the top of the swell he pauses for a moment at a slow canter, till his horse clears its nostrils with a vigorous snort, then shakes the bridle, and touches the flank of the steed ly with the spur. They have come five miles fifteen minu , and the horse begins to feel tired, but the rest of the road is down hill, and far — the distance Dick sees the white walls of the next station, where they are watch- ing for him, with a fresh horse in waiting. 5 the spur, with a magnificent burst of that covers a mile within two minutes and a half. When the horse begins to slacken his pace, the other spur gives a sharp reminder, and another mile is covered under its impetus. The mustang, black with sweat a little time before, is now white with foam, and begins to pant heavily. But the station is now too plain in sight to al- low of more mercy. For about a quarter of a mile further Dick allows his steed its own way, till it utters a heavy snort, then he presses in both spurs with a decided dig, and shoots away with renewed speed. Now he can distinguish the thatched roof of the station and some moving figures. Once more presses in the spurs, and the hard-driven horse gives a grunt of di and switches his tail as the pressure compels him to exert him- gy than se eckaids) Sebi 4 way at a long-stretching ring gallop but ahwiies as fast as ever, every fier erated yards the — drawing blood, for the same speed must be kept up. e mail-rider is racing against time. ow he can see men and horses at the station and even count their numbers, besides distin- guishing the color of the horses and dresses. “* Aha,” he says to himself, “ they bring out old Gray Eagle very often, but the old horse is there, every time!” Then he shakes the bridle, stands up in the stirrups to ease the horse, calls to him coaxing- ly, and pats his neck. For a few strides the animal freshens up, and then relaxes again. They are now a mile from we, Cometh ” says Dick, as hesitsd gai me then,” says Dick, as hesitsdown again; ‘it?s rough on you, I admit, but business is business, old horse. So sail along now.” Then he plunges in the spurs and keeps them there, while the poor horse, gathering vigor alike from the pain and the sight of the station puts forth all its strength for a last burst, an comes tearing into the station laboring fearful- ly, with Dick’s spurs going at each : By saving the animal at first, he had screwed it up to go ten miles in twenty-nine minutes, and and has gained one minute on time! - As the reeking horse stops of its own accord at the post, Dick leaps off as light as a boy, for he is yet fresh in the morning. The two station men rush at the exhausted mustang, strip off the saddle in a moment, and fling it on the back of a dapple gray horse, sturdy in frame, who stands ready to go the next stage. “*The old gray looks well, Dick,” observes one. “* He’s been getting rumbumptious in the stable on his corn. Kicked J wy yesterday, and cut her haunch open. e is, all ready. Guess he’ll take yer on time.” me Hope so,” says Dick, briefly. ‘‘ Give a leg, im. Jim seizes the left leg that he crooks for the a. and tosses him up into the saddle. ick Darling is as careful of extra exertion for himself as his horses. oo ee ae himself down, = up the horse’s rei ves a chirrup, and Gra Eagle dart: Vik a underbolt, kicking as te goes and shaking his head. He is known as the est and most vicious horse on the route. Dick Darling sits loose and easy in his saddle, not attempting to check the horse’s antics. He knows that from long habit, the brute would go straight, and cares for nothing else. He gathers up the reins a little to keep his head up and stop the kicking, and away goes Gray Eagle like an arrow from a bow toward the mountains. The next station is at the foet of the range. Dick Darling, careering onward at a speed of twenty miles an hour, seems as as when he started, while the sturdy vigorous horse ee him for the first few miles enjoys the wor) Mile after mile vanishes, each well within its prescribed limit of three minutes, and still the old horse stretches along, with one ear laid back, the other cocked forward, while he swings his head from side to side in play. Old Gray Bagle has traversed that track too many.times not to know every step. Upright and gently swaying to the stride, the inatt +1 er sits in his saddle, his eyes roaming over the landscape, vaguely dreaming of pres- ent, past, and future, for he has almost forgot- ten what he is about. And across his brain, as he rides along, comes stronger and clearer the vision of a ad of dark serious eyes and a Madonna face, the vision of the beautiful nun whom he saw on the ramparts, of the Nyn’s Mission of Santa Clara.
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CHAPTER. VIII. THE CORRALED KENTUCKIAN, ““WuHat’s the matter with the hosses?’ sud- denly demanded Mr, Grimes, pausing in the act of lighting his pipe after supper, and listening. The stage horses of the ‘‘ Pioneer” coach, which stood at the feed-box, within ten feet of the door, were rattling their halter-chains and uttering uneasy snorts. Jack Hardin started up and listened at the door. ** Wait till old Rat-tail speaks,” he whispered. “Tll be sure then, I reckon it’s some o’ them thievin’ Utes around, but I ain’t sartin—” He was interrupted by the sonorous bray of an old mule that roamed loose about the straw- yard, a sound followed by an angry squealing from all the mustangs there. ** Utes, by the ghost of Gineral Jackson,” said Hardin, hastily. “Git on yer irons, Bill, and we'll chaw the greasy varmints up in the shak- ing of a yaller dawg’s tail.” s he fern he hurriedly picked up his belt, and buckled it round his waist, an example fol- lowed by Billy Grimes. were accustomed to hold the de aded Indians similarly armed. g, bang! went several rifles as they ran out, and Grimes uttered a cry of pain and encer as he felta bullet tear through the calf of ; leg. In a moment more a score of dark forms seemed to spring up from the earth, and come . rushing at the borderers, when a confused and furious fight ensued. The night was bright with stars, but there was no moon, and all aim was necessarily in- stinctive, as both parties opened with revolvers, two against twenty. The flashes of the firearms were incessant, and shouts, yells, cries, and shots made a perfect aug oma in front of the little hut for near- two minutes, at the expiration of which time e voice of Jack Hardin was heard roaring: “Run, Billy. They’re too much for us. Into the stockade.” A moment later two dark figures were seen to break pag A from the confused group of sav- ages, one of them limping as he went, and run for the hut. The Indians pursued, but severalof their num- ber lay on the ground, and most of their revolvers were empty. e two whites gained the door of the hut and were rushing in when Crow’s Foot, the real leader of the assault, ran up behind the vee tog bar who was in the rear, and fired the load of the revolver into the poor fellow’s back. Bill Grimes staggered, uttered a wild shriek, and threw up his as he fell forward on his face over the threshold, jamming the door close to, behind Hardin, who had just sprung in. This latter circumstance was all that saved the Kentuckian’slife. The door opened outward, and the dead body of Grimes resisted the efforts of the first Indian, who seized the edge of the door-frame to pull it open. The expressman turned as he heard the crash of the door, and seized hold of the great staples that held the inside bar, pulling with all his might. But whereas the dead body without. helped him to close it below, something above resisted all his efforts, and he heard the dull sound of cracking bones and tearing flesh, as he crushed in the fingers of the Indian who had seized the ce of the door. he savage howled with pain, but Jack had the advantage of a good hold and would soon have managed to bar the door, had not two bul- lets come crashing through the boards, one of them passing through his right side, plowing up the flesh, The next moment Jack cropned the staple, after one vigorous wrench with all his weight bounded across the hut to the back door, an was_ into Ce pamery. before any one could catch him, amiliar as they were with the premises. The granary the fortress of the was peaily ae being a square stone building, some twenty t high, with thick walls, loop-holed above the rway, and built with projections to flank the ance, Like the ine hnt, the door opened outward, Unlike that, it was made entirely of iron plates ane secured with a spring lock. e of this little fortalice was heavy in frame ¢ covered with thick sheet-iron, purposely to \ Beadle’s Half:Dime Library. resist the undisciplined efforts of the very foes Jack was now fighting against. As the expressman rushed in, followed at a few feet distance by his yelling enemies, several knives were thrown at him, of which two struck eM one gashing his left shoulder the other his thigh. Wounded as he was, however, he managed to run in, and. slam the door to after him. ‘Thank God!” ejaculated the rough Ken- tuckian, fervently (for the first time for many years) as he heard the spring lock catch behind im. He knew he was safe, for the door was perfectly smooth outside, with no handle, and the key was hung round his neck. The most skillful burglar would have been puzzled to get in, with all his array of tools, and to Indians the place was absolutely impregnable. He heard their yells of disspeninitieonl out- side, and the crash of heavy ies against the | door, but the thick plates, resting against the | solid stone, did not so much as s The two frontiersmen | ke; and the expressman knew that he was quite safe. hen it was that he found time to realize that he was badly hurt. His right arm was power- less; the warm blood was streaming down from numerous wounds, and he felt faint and dizzy. His first. instinct, however, was not for self. | Like a true American, he .thought first of his duty, and of the orders about what to doina similar case, left him by ‘‘The Company,” that unknown entity, which represented to Hardin the world of civilization, from which he was temporarily divorced. Swaying dizzily from side to side, he stagger- ed through the pitch dark room, feeling his way to the lantern and match-safe, to strike a light. A moment later, he was clumsily trying to approach the flame to the wick, which seemed to spin round and round in the air, and when at last he succeeded in lighting it, he fell back on the hard clay floor nearly insensible. Then a thought revived him. ‘The Com- pany ” had provided a bottle of spirits for just such ages which stood in a niche by the lantern. Slowly and dozily he rose on hands and knees, and succeeded in crawling up to it, uncorking the bottle, and taking a draught. The effect was immediate. As the fiery liquid flowed down the throat, Hardin seemed to gath- er new strength; and then he stood up without hep, and went on with his duty. e Indians were shouting and yelling at the door, battering it with gun-stoc and rails torn from the stockade. Every now and then they would fire a volley of bullets at the insen- sible door, which defied their efforts, while they howled out the most fiendish threats in their broken English against the single man who was a against the wall and point ning i the wall and pointing up- ward, was a long pipe of sheet-iron, like a stove- pipe; and this the expressman caught hold of, and pointed diagonally upward, out of a hole close under the eaves of the roof. It stuck there, on account of the slope of the orifice; and Hardin ran across the room, and extracted, from what seemed a bundle of fire- wood, a long, slender stick, bearing at its end a gay-colored cylinder of pasteboard, with a con- ical head. It was nothing more or less than a rocket. A moment later, it was in the tube, lighted, and soaring aloft in air, scattering crimson sparks, to announce to the stations far and near that the Indians were on the war-path. And then a sudden hush came on the crowd outside. They knew what that signal meant. CHAPTER IX. WHAT THE CLOISTER BEAUTY SEES. Sister FRANcHESCA, familiarly known in the nunnery by the various names of Pancha, Pa- chita, and La Chiquita, during her novitiate, had just risen from her knees by the bell-tower of the convent, where she been praying alone for the last half-hour before sunse Since she had caught sight of that strange vision of the evening before, which had enticed her out of the peaceful paradise in which she had so long rested securely, and given her one short glimpse of the possibilities of her own na- ture, a iquita ma Qui strangely silent and reserved. All the next day she had taken every Op- portunity to steal away from the nuns, and wander in the convent garden, or pace the bat- tlements. And yet, strange to say, she had not men- tioned to any one that she once allowed her eyes to wander on the forbidden sex. Not even to old, superannuated Padre Junipero, the con- vent confessor, had she breathed a word of it, though she had been to confession, and the pur- blind old man had sleepily questioned her on the regular round of the ‘seven deadly sins,” and hurried her off with an absolution, as a matter of course. Confessing La Chiquita was a mere form to Padre Junipero, for the sins were so ridiculously trivial, and always ran so much in the same track, that the confessor was fain to stifle a yawn, even when he blessed the innocent little novice at absolution. But to-day, La Chiquita, even after confes- sion, felt guilty. She had not told the good padre everything, and especially she had not mentioned that handsome youth, whose eyes had met hers, and whose face and figure floated before her mental vision ever since, as if indel- ibly imprinted there, coming between her and the crucifix, interfering with her prayers, and always galloping, Galloping: noiselessly on, with face turned toward her, and bright brown eyes meeting her own. Poor little Francesca felt dreadfully wicked when she found herself dreaming of this young man, even during mass, and to make amends for it, the little enthusiast went without her dinner for penance, though her appetite was as hearty as that of any other young girl in good health. In the evening, no doubt for further penance, she volunteered to take on herself Sister Aga- tha’s turn of duty, to ring the Angelus, which the old nun, who was growing rheumatic, was glad to yield to her. Here she was, then, all alone on the flat roof of the convent, standing by the bell-tower, watching for the sunset, which, as it still want- ed half an hour of the time, was a very merito- rious ree on her part. And then, being all alone on the silent ram- rts, Sister Francesca began to pray earnestly for strength to forget this disturbing vision, which she was sure the devil had sent to draw her from her holy work. La Chiquita prayed and sobbed earnestly, but whether it was the devil, or nature rebelling against unnatural laws, certain it is that she found herself, with- out intending it, —- that the handsome stranger might come that way 5 op and that she might be the instrument of hi to the true church. And when once she got on that road, it was surprising how the words came, and how earn- estly and heartily she prayed. There was no more vague and wandering thought, then. She seemed like one inspired, and her face glowed with a bright light, and she pictured in her rapt ee what a blessed lot it would be for her lead this stray sheep into the true fold, and then to see him safe all the rest of her life. Somehow, she never pictured herself as shut up from him by the convent walls after that convenient conversion. How they were to be near each other, she had but a vague idea, but in her fancy no thought of separation had om and it was with a bright face and cheerful eart that she rose from her knees by the bell-tower, at last, and looked out over the landscape. Of course she was only looking to see how hear sunset it was, and of course she did not want to dazzle her eyes by looking the sun full in the face. Only eagles do that, and she was a very tender little dove. J So she first explored the plain below the con- vent -— — er eyes, - the east, — - _ west, working her way up toward the sun, m0 08 not to be dazzled. And thus it befell, that she distinguished, far away from the walls, on the Carson trail, a pte speck, which advanced toward the con- vent at a rapid pace; and La Chiquita’s eyes gleamed, and again she blushed scarlet, while a smile wreathed her lips in spite of herself, and she whispered softly: . ‘Oh, Madre de Dios! el viene!” (Mother of — ae comes!) i es, there was no puataking ing the regular, rapi bounds of the horseat full speed, tearing to- ward the convent gate. Minutes ea a to Rene ag stood ay he xe: me Spot, eager: pace 9 ove the gallant figure tha came sailing along, with a rapid undulating grace, Nearer and nearer comes the horseman, in the midst of the red flames of sunset, and soon she can distin, the neat, erect figure, in its ome blue uniform, the black mustang beneath im how s conversion on is un bly fixed on the ramparts of e convent, at the foot of the bell-tower. + Unconsciously, the warm, impulsive girl extends her arms. She forgets she is ina convent, soon to take the vail; she only feels that some chord in her nature is quivering to her oping on, gray with foam, whil im fe heart of L'a Chiquita beatsithe Sore
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“Oh, Dios, lo gquarda! Venga, venga, queri- do!” (Oh, God, guard him! Come, come, be- loved!) Then, as she kneels there by the battlement, watching the approaching horseman, who is so near that she can distinguish his white face from his hair-and clothes, suddenly an expres- sion of deadly terror comes over her own coun- tenance, at what she next sees and hears. A loud yell rends the air, and at least a score of Indians on horseback suddenly gallop out from the ruins of an old stable, that once be- longed to the convent, in the days when it was a hacienda, How they got there, how long they had been hidden, La Chiquita could not dream. She only knew that now, just as her cavalier’s features became for the first time distinguishable, out rushed the mob of galloping savages, and open- ed a furious fusillade on the young mail-rider. It all passed in a moment, and the next she saw Dick Darling drop his bridle on his horse’s neck, bend forward to the saddle-bow, plunge in his spurs with a loud yell, then rise again, with a revolver in each hand, while his charger sped forward like an arrow from a bow. The Indians were on him in a moment, and the pistols flashed to and fro in the crimson sun- set, while the. spell-bound novice, all aghast, stood as if rooted to the spot, gazing at the fierce skirmish. She saw her hero burst through his foes like a thunderbolt, with the blood spirting from a dozen. wounds, while the Indians hung round him, like wolves round a wounded buffalo, and still the cruel shots went to and fro, with their spiteful yellow flashes. Now they were right under her very feet, careering along, and the innocent novice felt a thrill of strange pride, in the midst of all her terror, as she marked, in that supreme moment, the pearing of her hero. Surrounded by pitiless red foes, firing into him’ from all sides, he neither quailed nor shrunk, but sat up erect in his saddle, firing steadily, and felling foe after. foe, regardless of his own wounds, Then, just as the battle passed beneath her La Chiquita saw the black horse stumble anc roll over, dead, while the savages down at the prostrate horse and rider, and the fallen man fired sternly back, till his last charge was gone. Then she saw him fall back, as a last shot pealed out from above, and the Indians raised a fiendish yell of triumph. ~ La Chiquita covered her face with her hands, for she knew it was allover. She had seen him but twice, and they had killed him before her very eyes. She felt dazed and stupid at the sudden calamitiy. She was aroused by a bevy of excited nuns, running screaming up on the battlements, to see what the dreadful din meant. They found the Indians standing respectfully round the body of the dead man, Cat’s Eye, cowardly and vindictive, was about. to reach for his scalp, when the brutal Crow’s Foot interposed, with an air of unwont- dignity. ie —~4 not the scalp. Let the body lie,” said the Ute chief; simply. ‘‘He was a brave man, and never quailed nor shut his eyes when isnot him. Let his body be honored. Come, et us go. And the Indian chief waved back his party in admiration of the only virtue an Indian re- spects—a courage greater than his own.* CHAPTER X. THE SIGNAL AND ITS ANSWER. THE council of Blackfoot chiefs was gathered round its fire in solemn conclave, listening to the story of Chevrette and Levrette. As the irls described the manner in which they had Been persecuted by their Ute admirers: and how the latter had y attempted to secure them by force, some of the younger chiefs could hard- * That this incident is not_extravagant, nor alien to Indian nature, is evidenced by a recent account of a skirmish in Arizona, between a small party of the Third U.S. cavalry aud the. Apaches, in which five of the former were killed. One of these was a little bugler, alad of sixteen, who was seen with a spy- glass, from a fort near b , to be defending himself with a stubborn bravery that was not shown by his comrades. When the rescue y from the fort ar- rived, they found the Apaches gone, the bodies of the dragoons frightfully and d ngly mutilated, while the lad's body was laid out decently, with his. weapons beside him, entirely unharmed, save by his death-shot, a token of respect for his courage. Dick Darling. ly restrain their indignation by the rigid re- serve of Indian: etiquette. There were men in that circle, tall, stron and brave, warriors scarred from a hundre contests, who were willing to lay down their lives for these very girls, and deemed ;them too ood for their own lodges; and the idea of a | espised. Ute, a creature that usually went on foot and dug roots, daring to aspire to these pets of the riors beyond endurance. ‘Let the warriors speak,” said old Eagle | Win ravely, ‘“‘beginning at the youngest. es Buffalo Horn?” © =e Buffalo Horn was a markably tall stature, and known as the swift- est runner of his tribe. He sprung to his feet, without waiting for a second invitation, and cried out: : “Whose dog is a Ute, that he should bite the hand of a maiden of the Echipeta? We have suffered them too long near our valleys. | Let us take the war-path, and cut off every man of the Utes, till not one remains alive to boast that he has insulted a maiden of the Echi- ta.” As he spoke, a chorus of approving grunts from the Indians around told that they were in. ipatege with the speaker, and Eagle Wing said; “Tt is well. Let Antelope Eye speak.” Antelope Eye was another young chief, soft and delicate in ap ance, and noted for his personal beauty and soft, melting eyes. ‘* Antelope Eye is for war on the Ute dogs,” he said, quietly, “‘ and let the jae who brings home most scalps lead the Fawn to his lodge.” This proposition was treated with more em- hatic approval than the other, but tase Wing ound it necessary to interpose. ‘‘ My son is too rash,” he sai “The daughters of the stranger are sacred to the chiefs of the Echipe- ta, and must not be taken without their own will. Let the maidens speak. Are they willing to enter the lodge of that chief of the Echipeta who brings home the scalps of their enemies?’ For a moment both girls hesitated, and then Levrette answered for both. Turning. to her sister, she said in French: “Tt is our fate, sister. Only one of us can marry Dick,. The other must go somewhere. Better a brave chief than a coarse white man. Let us promise. We can make the conditions im: ible.” o the council she said: “The chief that comes home with the scal of both Cat’s Eye and Crow’s Foot in his belt, and can show ten scalps of the Utes besides taken in fair fight, may claim either of us that he wishes, and we will enter his lodge and cook game for him. Is it good?” “Tt is good,” responded the Medicine chief, avely, while a hush fell over the assembly at he nature of the feat demanded. ‘‘ The daugh- ters of the Echipeta can only be won by brave chiefs. They have spoken wisely and well.” The old chief was gratified at the girl’s address. He knew that two rich and beautiful girls, such as they, were like amid heaps of chaff, —e impetuous young braves. The sight. of a single favored suitor would be likely to raise a dozen disappointed ones, and might even end in causing divisions in the little tribe. Hitherto the two girls had kept carefully aloof from the young men of the tribe, and Eagle Wing bad boggae hoped that none of them were affected by the stranger’s children, The little speech of Antelope Hye had shown him how mistaken he was, and how the fire was already smoldering in many breasts. The almost impossible nature of the task as- signed for the favored lover, cast a damper on that fire, For any single chief to take twelve scalps out of one party was a matter of almost impossibility, and every one knew it; and old Eagle Wing rejoiced as he saw the flame of dis- cord. Pr orely. uenched. Only a single warri- or of all me not cast down by the task. This was a man of medium hight, with very broad shoulders, and a and arms remark- ably muscular, for an Indian. His face and Y were covered with scars, and he wore round his neck no less than three collars of the claws of the grizzly bear. His nameamong the Blackfeet was Bear Killer, and he had the re- peatiog of being the strongest warrior of his i Bear Killer started up, when all the rest were silent. is a Ute, that a Kainna should ‘“« Whose. d fear to take of his scalps? Bear Killer. sll lead the party and bring back a hundred. yonder!” 4 As he spoke, he pointed to the southern exit “chipeta, angered the proud war- | young chief of re- | / of the valley, which looked over the foothills that hemmed in the valley of Dolores Station. A little shower of red stars had just burst out | in the air, and a moment later, the faint distant report of the bursting rocket came to their ears. | Bear Killer had seen it first, and skillfully took advantage of the circumstance. |. “See, men of the Echipeta Kainna,” he cried, | “The pale-faces are fighting in the valley, and it is the Ute dogs that are baying them. That | is their sigm to tell their brothers the foe is on the war-path.” | A moment later, a second rocket shot up into | the air from the station below, and exploded, scattering green and crimson flames all round. Bear Killer pointed away down the valley to where the next station was known to. stand. Before the stars of the second rocket had vanish- | ed, an answering streak shot into the sky, and | told that the next station was aroused and pass- ing the alarm. ‘Let the warriors rouse and follow me,” said Bear Killer, _ ‘‘ There is no time to be lost.” He was turning away into the night, afterhis horse, when Eagle Wing ke, and his deep, grave voice arrested Bear Killer, ‘“‘ Hold,” said the old chief. ‘‘ The Kainna are not boys, to run on a trail without knowing what foe to meet. Let Bear Killer take thirty chiefs. It is enough against the whole Ute nation, The rest will remain to guard the camp. Even a Ute may be. brave if he finds none but the squaws and gray-heads here. I have spoken.” Bear Killer bent his head reverently before the old chief, for all in the camp were accustom- ed to obey his slightest word. He called for volunteers, and selected from those that offered only the strongest and most enduring. Antelo Eye, the lithe, handsome young chief with the beautiful face, he was about to reject, but the oung warrior was so urgent in his entreaties t the older one finally consented. ‘But beware of lagging,” he said, sternly. “Twill be along trail and a blind one, and many eyes will be closing for weariness, ere we come back.” Antelope Eye smiled a proud smile, but_he said nothing. Young braves are always modest in word, till they have taken a few ps. While the Blackfeet were discussing the ea et, to liminaries for their raid, rocket after rock the num of six, went up from Dolores Sta- tion; and Bear Killer hurried them off. It did not take long for the Echipeta warriors to yg sane Inside of five minutes from the time Killer announced the. names of the volunteers, thirty chiefs, each with a rifle at his back, a of revolvers in his sash, and carry- ing in his hand a long lance, sat on their chargers at one side of the fire, awaiti orders. ) Chevrette and Levrette, armed like the rest, and _ equall well-mounted, took their posts in SN of the center of the line, behind Bear er. No one remonstrated, for it was an understood thing in the tribe that the girls did as they c leased, but many a yo ef’s heart beat Righer aa bo saw Se ject of his secret adora- tion sharing the perils of the expeditia and knew that the girls would be with them. ve . Bear Killer gave the signal, and away they went in single-file down the valley toward Do- lores Station. When they reached the pass that overhung the valley, a bright crimson glare arrested their attention, and told the story plainer than words. Dolores Station was afire, corral, sheds and all. The little stone ary alone stood up, black and ominous, amid the glare of the burn-- ing Teneo, and not a trace of human beings was visible. With one accord the Blackfoot warriors gal- on boldly down the steep mountain-side, to ae oa trail before the light of the fires had van- The marauders had escaped with all the horses. CHAPTER XI. JACK HARDIN’S HOT-AIR BATH, At the appearance of the first rocket that had shot up from Dolores Station, there was a dead silence among the crowd of Utes that surround- ed it. They realized its meaning without any teaching. ey had seen it ore. Then, as with one consent, they set. to work to do all the damage they could before decamping. The mustangs in the corral, and the — horses, were hastily got bs ped then the and posts of the corral and stockade, with the shattered ents of furniture from the hut, ane the . y hee a Longe d Fg were Pp in a hea; ‘ore the door o e granary, and set on fire, ;
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— —_———__. ___ - . Dry as matches as was the fuel, the flame quickly spread. The paint and varnish on the coach hel to make it fiercer, and the wind, fanning the fire, soon made the heat unbearable — on a eon ty throw. en the Utes, with a parting yell, ©) off down the valley, on their wa is shone the mail-rider, an attempt which we have seen so nearly successful. _ _ While they were lighting and piling the fire, | Jack Hardin, within, had not been idle. By the assistance of the whisky-flask, he was inspired w-th factitious strength, under the influence of which he dragged out three more rockets, one efter another, and sent them whizzing up into the air through the directing-tube, to scatter their warning sparks through the-night. When he heard the galloping horses of the Utes and their farewell yells, the rough station- master shook his clenched fist vindictively after them and muttered: .. “Ah, ye infernal brutes, ye may run, but ef I don’t get even with ye yet, I ain’t Kentuck.” Then he set to work, with the coolness of an old frontiersman, to wash and bind up his wounds, ‘which were numerous, but luckily not deep. -Grazed he had been by several bullets, two ar- rows stuck in the fleshy part of his left arm, two knife wounds were in his back; but he seemed as tough as ever;-as he deliberately broke off the arrow-s drew them out of the flesh, and bound strips of old bags tightly around them to ‘confine the bleeding. Hé had already drank nearly half a pint of hisky, which had no effect save to clear his head, and when he had finished attending to his wounds, he applied himself once more to the flask, and took a long and hearty swig. The effect was immediate. He stood up and walked round, as strong as ever, to all seeming. And then it was that he first began to be sen- sible of an increasing heat in the small and con- fined granary, as the fire, which had been wasting its heat outside, be to attack the center of the pile. Through the narrow loop- holes, under the eaves, the bright tongues of flame began to dart; and had the roof been made of wood, the whole edifice would soon ‘have been a mass of flame. The heavy iron ay he oe to glow with heat, and a dull red tinge, swiftly becoming eal overy bone tol a the ee vows he the wood in roaring flame was begining to make fexit felt. The interior of the granary, five minutes later, was like an oven in blast, and the iron door was nearly white hot. The tough station-master, fainting and nearly suffocated with the heated air, gasping on the ground, and began to believe that his time was come, His fall saved his life, for the earthen floor, still cool and damp, revived him, and he became aware that the builders of this granary, careless and hasty workmen, had built it in a most im- perfect manner. The walls had settled, leaving cracks and chinks in the mortar, and in one es a hole, large enough to thrust a hand into, been formed close to the ground, from ~~ a cold stream of air was pouring toward the fire. - With a muttered thanksgiving, the station- ’ master crawled toward the hole, and breathed in long draughts of that cool air, which he had never, till then, fully appreciated. : Meantime the heat above him became, if pos- sible, fiercer than before, and a new danger re- vealed itself to his remembrance. The hay-bales and grain-sacks were all un- ~ covered, and at any minute the heat of the glowing doorway might set them on fire. Be- sides this, not six feet from his head, lay the ~ bundle of rockets, at least a dozen of which re- mained. As Hardin thought of the ces of a fire inside, the col from every pore. y he lugged away the rockets to the behind some grain-sacks, while he pulled down _ &@ wagon-tilt over the hay-bales, on the side next - the door. Hardly had he done so, when he heard the sound of voices outside, the tramping of horses, and became sensible that some one was calling him in loud tones. “Blackbeard! Blackbeard! Where are you?” The voice was the voice of a woman, and he recognized it. It was the voice of Levrette Ledoux. Jack Hardin tried to answer, but, to his sur- , he could not make himself audible. His tseemed to be parched and dry, and re- fused to form a sound louder than a w r. Instinctively, he rushed to the ot ot which stood by the flask of strong liquor, 1 ble co en- sweat burst out up, and ge corner, Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. a a deep cool draught. Then he hailed ai 7 fire!’ He had hardly spoken, when there was a cry of joy outside, and he heard a confusion of voices, while the sound of hissing steam and de- creasing heat, showed that his friends, whoever = were, had obeyed the injunction. he corral contained a little pool of water, and Levrette and the Echipeta warriors were busily engaged in casting its contents on the fire by the blanketful. Two warriors would seize a blanket by the corners, dip it rapidly into the water, scooping up several gallons in the sag- ging depression, then, running a few steps, cast a shower over the fire? The closely-woven, felt- like, Mackinaw blankets, worn by the warriors, were almost water-proof, and fifteen blankets, oing simultaneously and incessantly, soon pro- uced a marvelous effect. Inside of three minutes the last vestige of fire was extinguished; and the iron aoe cracked from top to bottom, exhibited the powers of sudden contraction in a striking de- gree. Jack Hardin, inside, felt the heat decreasing, while the fire was being extinguished, and at last heard his friends knocking at the iron door. en he pulled out the key, and tried the ock. A fresh discovery awaited him there. The heat had so bent and warped the wards of the tent lock, that it refused to turn, and he ound himself a prisoner in his own fortress, For a moment he was Be om at the discovery. In another he remembered that “‘ the Company ” had provided another means of in an iron ladder in the corner of the room, which led to a trap door in the roof. Calling out this te rs gent through a chink in the door, he clim the ladder, emerged from the trap, and stood once more in the open air. Looking down into the faint gloom of the starlit ae he was astonished and horrified to perceive that his deliverers, as he had fancied them, were nothing less than a fresh band of Indians. No sooner had he made the discovery than he dived into the trap-door once more, ex- ore ae of a bullet past his head as he so. But none came, and after a silent pause he heard the voice of Levrette ing out: ‘Blackbeard! Blackbeard! ere are you? Here are your friends that have come to save you, and you will not look out to see us. These are no Utes, but warriors of the Echipeta, come to help you and punish Cat’s Eye.” Hardin cautiously jr his head, * All very ged , Miss Levrette, but haow am I to tell that? Injuns is Injuns, and Injuns is visen. No offense to you, but hyar I’m safe. I don’t know haow long my skulp and me mout keep company, and I vallys my ha’r jess as much as yeou, miss.” CHAPTER XII. THE RED TRAILERS. LEVRETTE uttered an impatient laugh of vex- ation. “ Fool,” she cried, angrily, “‘do you su we should have come here to put on this. 2, when we might have helped to burn you up, if we any need of your scalp? here my Darling? Tell me that, ani you rags stay here, v3 all we care. Tell us, where our Dar Weal,” returned Mr. Hardin, with exem- lary caution, ‘he mout be hyar, and he mout be r. That’s how itis, Miss Levrette.” ‘*T know he’s on the Carson trail,” cried Che- vrette, impatiently interrupting her sister. ‘We saw him ride off this morning. What we want to know is, how far off is he now, when does he come back, and are the Utes likely to meet him? Tell us that.” “No, ye don’t, a he said, shrewdly. Tere, here! For God’s sake put out the “Betwixt you and me, I ain’t on the —— biz to-night. You know how it = yourself.” “In short,” said Levrette, fiercely, “you re- fuse to tell us?” “You bet,” oy geipem Hardin, laconically. Then his bl so gh tage head, if we fail to find him, fool,” said the girl, vindictively. “The Utes have gone toward Carson, on his trail, and if they catch him before we get up, you lose your comrade.” So , She turned angrily away. ke to her train in the short, | guttural lackfoot tongue; for not one among them had understood the colloquy that was going on in hearing her words, the Blackfoot chiefs saying. and uttered a sarcastic, taunting sound, between a laugh and a yell, in chorus, and turned away their horses, Then, as they galloped away on the Carson trail in single file, each chief con- temptuously blew his nose at the granary, in token of his disgust at the white man’s pusil- ge any Jack Hardin took it very coolly. “Snivel away, ye darned old painted var- mints,” he muttered. ‘‘Safe keep, safe find, ’s an old sayin’; and one skulp’s wuth a dozen bald heads. Ef you think Jack Hardin’s ee ter trust a Blackfoot, arter he’s jest nigh killed by them Utes, you kin jest take it out in thinkin’, Hyar I stay, till the sogers comes, or the cump’ny sends on help. The hosses air gone, and I ain’t gwine to ride no posts till I’m relieved, hyar. "Asa the station-master carefully secured the trap-door, and made a safe descent into the for- tress, where he made his bed, lighted a pipe, and sat down for a solitary smoke, before turning in. ‘Poor Billy Grimes,” he soliloquized, “ wi out by a durned Digger Injun. You and I'll never hev another draw together.” And these few regretful words constituted the only epitaph ever received by poor Bill Grimes. eantime the Blackfoot warriors rode rapid- ly down the valley along the Carson trail, fol- lowing, ina manner that none but Indians could have attempted at such a pace, and in such a light, the tracks of the drove of stolen horses and the marauding Utes. There seemed to be no hesitation or embar- rassment on the of a single warrior, as they followed the lead of a slender young chief who rode in the advance, crouched on his horse’s neck and carefully watching the ground ahead in the faint seni ang And who was this young chief whom all fol- lowed so cheerfully? It was no other than Antelope Eye, the young warrior noted for the beauty of his large melt- ing eyes, which were also remarkable for their singular powers of seeing in the dark. e only other Indian in those known to this power was Cat’s e, the Ute and between him, the hoary old re robate, and the young and elegant Antelope Eye, a mortal hate, the deeper because it was hidden by both, existed. Some years before, when the young Blackfoot was only a Se, of sixteen, Cat’s Eye had met him, when out hunting, all alone. . The savage Ute, being the strongest, had also taken the lad by surprise, stolen his game and weapons, with the assistance of two other Utes taken away his horses, one of which was loaded with game, and turned the lad out, stark naked, without so much as a knife, a hundred miles from his own camp. He had only refrained from killing him for fear of the Blackfoot vengeance that was dread- ed by all the vag erate Bet Antelope Eye reached home after terrible suf- ferings, nearly dead, and from that moment had never spoken a word to his tribe of the means by which he had been brought to such a pass. His mortification was keener than his pains. But from that moment he had devoted himself to acquiring the knowledge of a warrior in every manner, “na especially had become the most ex- pert tracker and hunter in his tribe, alwa cautious, never — trusting any one outside of his tribe. All earnings in the chase had been devoted to the purchase of arms, ammuni- tion, and horses; all his spare time was spent in secret expeditions among the mountains, with what object, even his tribe knew not. One thing was certain, that Antelope Eye pos- sessed the finest horses and the best weapons in the tribe, and that the product of the chase was not at all sufficient to account for his riches, Had any one taken the trouble to watch him, they might have found the secret, in the trans- fer of certain little _yellow lumps brought from remote valleys, to the Indian traders at the forts, and that those nuggets were found by An- telope Eye. ‘ But Indians are not prone to watch their own friends, and entertain too much contempt for gold, as a general rule, to care to preserve it. So An Eye, in his silent self-contained manner, had, teen preparing for his first war- th and his vengeance; and the solitary glens that witnessed his secret preparations witnessed also the fruits of such a long patient practice in marksmanship as an Indian rarely attempts, and which was yet to elevate the silent in- to a renowned chief at a single bound. All night es Antelope Eye led the band al at a rapid canter, seldom halting save to breathe the horses, never hesitating at the trail.
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Dick Darling. 9 The early dawn found them nearly forty miles away, with the track of shod horses at a gallop still before them. They had passed several stations, all lighted up, with horses safely housed behind stockades, doors barred, and rifles ready to welcome an attack. To all these they had given a wide berth, for, from their experience of Hardin’s pens ae ge character, they anticipated trouble; and Eagle Wing’s policy was one of undeviat- ing peace and non-interference with the whites, . policy which had borne the happiest fruits, so r ar. Now that the morning was come, Antelope Hye sat up straight, and glanced around him as he rode along. He prpccred evidently a diver- gence from the beaten track. Nor was he mistaken. That apparently mys- terious quality, which renders an Indian track- er’s judgment so unerring, is in reality merely the exercise of a keen faculty of comparison, knowledge of the country and of the habits of the game followed, be it man or beast, white or red. The detective in a city, who follows up a criminal, displays exactly ilar qualities in a different field. Antelope Eye knew that his perry was but a few miles behind the Utes, and that the latter were certain to deviate from the track in day- light, in order to escape observation from the Pony Express Stations. He judged that they would follow the Carson trail, in general di- rection, from what he had heard said by Levrette and Chevrette, about Darling. Antelope Eye, with his other hidden accomplishments, under- stood considerable English and some nc though he never spoke either. His semi-civil- ized friends the half-breed girls, had assisted him in that, unknown to themselves; and in listening to them he had acquired a new tongue, Little thought either of the burning and con- suming par that was hidden under the placid exterior of the handsome young chief, on whom they looked as almost a boy with good- natured indifference. Suddenly, at the M3 Bago the sun rose, Antelope Eye waved his hand to the right swerved from the path, still at a gallop, an followed without hesitation a narrow but plain- ly marked track of shod horses, going at a gal- top, which led off up a side gorge into the moun- as. An hour later he called a halt. The trail ended in a deep narrow mountain stream, and not a vestige of tracks appeared on the other side. Bear Killer ordered the warriors to dismount and feed their horses. Antelope Eye started up- stream, on foot, Levrette and Chevrette follow- ed its course downward, and both were looking for tracks. Ten minutes later, the sharp war-whistle of the young chief panes them up-stream, The trail was found again. CHAPTER XIII. COL. SAM JONES IN THE SADDLE. In front of the ruins of Dolores Station, by daylight the morning after the assault, a party of some forty rough bearded miners and moun- tain-men, armed to the teeth with rifles, revol- vers and knives, were gathered in groups about their horses, discussing the situation, in frontier style; while on the roof of the little stone f ‘seq ary, all that was left of the station buil Mr, Jack Hardin was seated, pipe in mou conversing with the relief y, and awaiting the construction of a rough ladder, to release him from his imprisonment. Had the station-master been sound and whole, this help would not have been needed. Had the door opened inward, it might also have been broken down. As it was, it becam first, to help down the wounded to introduce a we | party to break out the door, which defied efforts from outside, not offering space to insert even a w J Around the blackened walls of the adobe hut, several corpses were scattered, four of them be- ing Utes, in ragged U. 8. uniforms, the fifth that of the ortunate driver. Poor Grimes’s body had been fe Y mutilated, according to the barbarous practice of the Western Indians. The scalp was gone, the body was stuck full of arrows, sipped, and treated with every conceivable indignity. No wonder, that in the faces of the rough miners, gathered round, could be seen a look of grim rep such as boded ill to any In- dians thet might cross their path. Such out- —— are merite still common in_ the West, and will be, as long as the irreconcilable antag- onism between two fierce races is not put down by the strong hand of the higher law of the general Government. To tell half the truth would cauge us all to blush for human nature. ° Jack din had just finished his account of the attack, while his friends below were lashing together the rounds of their rude lad- der, when the leader of the relief party in- Me And how is it that we find the fire out, and the brands pulled away from the door, Hardin, if they rode away as you say, leaving you to burn up?’ : The speaker was Colonel Sam Jones, super- intendent of the line, aman of old border ex- perience, ‘* Waal, cunnel,” said the Kentuckian, slow- ly, ‘twar Injuns as put out that fire, T11 not eny. “Tndians! What Indians? . Utes?” “Waal, no, cunnel, ’twar Blackfeet.” ‘Speak out, man, what you:mean. Are there Blackfeet round here?” “Dunno fur sartin, cunnel. ’Twar them p’isen Utes as stampeded the stock and killed r Billy, and I reckon ’twar Cat’s Eye’s band. al, arter I tetched off the skyoodles, they ca- vorted around a right smart chance, and then put, on the Carson trail. Ill allow I war e’en- a’most gone, when I heern yoices outside, and a couple 0’ gals war a-screechin’ fur me. Waal, ter make a long story short, I hollered to’em to put aout the fire, fur God’s sake; and fust t I know’d, slump come the water, and that ’ar’ door cracked open, fur it war nearly white-hot.” ‘Well, well,” said the superintendent, im acme fs : get through. How did you find that your friends were Blackfoot Indians?” “Seen ’em,” replied the station-master, com- Riser . * You don’t s’ I kurn’t tell a Ute rom a Blackfoot, cunnel? "T'war some of Eagle Wing’s band, in the mountings, yonner, and there war two gals, as pretty as picters, a-ridin’ thar at thar head. But you bet the painted cusses couldn’t fool me, cunnel. They tried their darndest to git into the station, by pre- tendin’ to be my friends, but Jack Hardin ain’t no chicken, you bet.” ‘Did they fire at you?” demanded Jones, ae ‘No, cunnel, I'll not. say they did.. The gals talked sweet, and tried to purtend as they was friends, axin’ whar war Dick Darling, as war out on the trail, and oughter be back ter-night, ef the p’isen imps don’t snatch him bald-h ‘ But they couldn’t git no news aout of me, ’baout Dick, you bet.” ‘Oh, stop your infernal blowing, Hardin,” cried the superintendent, in the rough, sharp way he had acquired in controlling such char- acters as the bragging station-master. did the Blackfeet do at last?” “The rid off, cunnel,” said Hardin, promptly. “Very good. Now you're talking. Did they fire at you before leaving?” ** Nary shot.” “Where were os ’ aout of the scuttle-hole.” B Could they see you?” ‘* Guess so, cunne}l.” “Then they didn’t treat you so badly, after “Uanh sa rR did.” thing's Joaving mph. Did they say anytbing in lea “Nary word, nine. :. “Did they seem angry?” ‘Waal, cunnel, that ar’s a difficult question.” “Aha! You’re hiding something from me, then.” ‘“Nary hide, cunnel—but—” ‘*But what? Out with it!” ‘* Waal, cunnel, they war ty of a we onsivil breach of tittikit, I reckon they calls it, afore leavin’.” “ A what?” “A breach o’ tittikit, cunnel,” said the Ken- tuckian, with a nd air. ; “What the devil are you about, Jack?” asked Jones, half-mystified, -amus- ed. “A breach o’ tittiquit, cunnel. What the Frenchers calls a fox paw.” The superintendent stared at the station-mas- ter a moment in amazement, then, as a light broke im on him, he smiled grimly at the mis- e. “Drop dictionary, Jack. What was this breach of etiquette “Waal, cunnel, ez they rid away, every one of the pane galoots took hold of his snoot, and darned ef they didn’t snivel at me, as ef the thunk I war a han’kercher or a barroom towel, and darn thur painted hides, ef I don’t spit in the face a the next red imp I meets, cuss me for a ou?” Mr. Hardin delivered this last sentiment with considerable heat. He had been deeply stung by the contemptuous manner of the Blackfeet, and the 5 se gata could hardly help laugh- ing in his face. * “Never mind, Jack,” “he said, consolingly. “Your scalp’s safe, anyway. Don’t be in too much of a hurry to offend le Wing’s band. They are dangerous fellows, and may not be on the war-path inst us, possibly.” ‘Darn the difference, cunnel,” said the sta- tion-master, shrewdly. ‘‘ A Injun buck on the war-trail ain’t apt to stick at trifles. You keep your eyes skinned ef you meet the cusses, that’s allI say. One skulp’s wuth a dozen bald heads any day, old hoss.” “Keep your advice to yourself, my friend,” said Jones, coldly. ‘‘I’ve not Point sige it yet, that I know of. that ladder Y there?” It was; and. a few moments later Hardin was released from his solitary perch, while a party of men entered the building through the scuttle- hole, with crowbars and blacksmith’s tools, with which from the inside, they very soon forced the door open. Then, while the wounded Kentuckian was erg in an ambulance and carried away to lt Lake City, the rapid, energetic Jones put the station in order once more, with a prompt- ness and celerity which were the grand secrets of his success in managing ‘‘ The Company’s” affairs on the Pony Route. Twenty men were left to repair the stockade, and form the nucleus of a newstation; horses were temporarily secured for the Pee | rider, who was from Salt Lake; the superintendent, with his formidable party of twenty more, oped off to the next station to in how far the raid had spread, and what damage was done, Colonel Sam Jones was not the man to let the = ww under his feet, or he would not have n General Superintendent U.S. Pony Express. Inside of an hour from the time when Hardin was released, the superintendent was at Guadalupe station, next on the route. He found every thing snug, the horses in their stockaded stable, while bar Fagen ag ie and mail-rider were on guard es, yi groans attacks mo- mentarily. They had heard two bands of In- dians = in the night, and had been unmolested, by either. The superintendent, leaving the rest of his es- cort to follow at more leisure, took with him only six men, as mor 2 as the station could mount, and determined to ride post from station to station, so as to overtake any Indians that might be on the trail, by co: t change of horses. At an hour before noon, he started on the Pony Route, CHAPTER XIV. RED AND WHITE FRIENDS, THE young moon was hanging in the faint luster of her first quarter, over the sharp ridges of the sierra, and fighting up the lovely vicinage of the convent of Santa , on the same night on which the young mail-rider was am- bushed, when the thunder of oping hoofs was heard in the distance, and a of plumed horsemen, long Jan came riding w from the ad si . At their head galloped two chiefs, one tall and slender, and resembling a spirit more than a man, for he was appareled in white from sole to crown, and his charger was snow-white. The other was mock broad and sturdy, with glitter- ing on his naked b in the e a powerful charger, spot- As they neared the convent, ata signal from Antelope Eye the Echipeta warriors fell into a walk; and the young chief, throwing his bridle to Bear Killer, leaped off his horse, and ran for- ward, half bending over, to inspect the trail mecht ope te the gate, he suddenly hal i re) e gate, he sudde threw up Pe tands in warning, and y baled as if rooted to the spot, while the band, at the signal, remained stationary. was a strong ag of the youth’s marvel- ous skill as a tracker, that such an old and experienced warrior as Bear Killer should have allowed him to head the party solong, It was ab or pa who now came up, on foot, and de- manded: Ta hey EE Ee” e chief poi 6 ground, “The blood ofa ” he said. In the faint light of the moon, a dark patch
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Beadle’s. Half-Dime. Library. was visible where the oa was torn ups the yellow dust clotted and stained with the black — of dried gore, and all the marks of a con- could be seen. : ‘‘The dead have been heré,” said Bear Killer, sententiously, ‘‘ Where are they, and who?’ A none expression of disgust crossed the handsome features of the lad, as he said: “Utes! They are cowards, skunks, They have not even carried them off.” Beckoning to Bear Killer, he advanced to the silent convent walls. A deep broad moat surrounded them, and a heavy draw-bridge was raised, to protect the entrance, but no light shone from any opening in the long lofty wall. The convent was silent as the grave, Antelope he pointed into the dark moat where a ray of moonshine had penetrated, roun an angle of the wall. ' There lay the carcasses of two horses, already bloated by the heat, and sticking, legs up. By carefully exploring the cavern, three bodies of ny ings, Indians all, could be distinguish- Antelope Eye went to his horse, and took from the saddle-bow a hair lasso, which he silently handed to Bear Killer. Assisted by the powerful veteran, the lad de- scended into the moat, and made a long and careful examination. When he ascended, his face was grave. “ The tse Black bags” ‘he ee Fy A soo carry the little blac .” he said. “The slew his horse, and here are the bags from the saddle. He himself is gone into the convent. Three Utes are dead, 6 was a brave warrior, to kill so many.” Bear Killer took the mail-bags, and examined them curiously. His face was thoughtful. Like Eagle Wing, he knew the importance of keep- ing peace with the whites, and realized that his own band was in danger of being accused of participation in this peti ile he was thoughtfully examining the bags, in doubt what to do, the tramp of horses at full was heard from the eastward, and a few minutes later, Colonel Sam Jones, with his six riders, came tearing down toward the convent, at a tremendous pace, : The superintendent checked his ya and halted, the instant he saw the band of mounted Indians. He knew that his fresh horses were able to distance animals that had come the dis- tance for which he had trailed the Blackfeet, but Colonel Sam Jories was too cautious to trust himself within reach of such a formidable > He and his men hung aloof, revolver in hand, while the superintendent opened a parley with the strangers, in the Ute tongue, for Colonel Sam Jones was an old mountain-man, as well as a college graduate, and had become acquainted with most Indian dialects, “Who are you, and what are you doing?’ he shouted, It was Bear Killer who waved back his men, stalked out alone on foot, and answered proudly: ' “Kehipeta Kainna. No Ute. The Utes are skunks and toads.” The superintendent was a little puzzled. His old mountain experience had not taught him much of the Blackfoot dialect, which is en- ened different from that of the other prairie tri Beyond the name, and a few phrases, he was ignorant, but as he remembered/ in’s ac- count, he began to suspect that the band before him was ibly composed of friends, and that it might be wise to show confidence in them, by meeting their chief half-way. He walked his horse forward a few steps, and in hailed in Ute: ~ Let one chief meet me, and talk, if it is ce. He had hardl spoken, when Antelope Eye touched Bear Killer’s arm. “Tet the squaw chiefs go,” he whispered. “They can e peace for us. The pale-faces will not touch squaws.” ‘Bear Killer nodded, and spoke to the girls, who eagerly to explain the case to the white leader. Accordingly, Levrette and Chev- rette turned their horses, and rode toward the superintendent, who met them close under the cover of his men’s pistols. Colonel Sam_looked suspicious at the fact of more than one Indian coming to meet him, but his cions were dissi by two facts. , he saw, at their near approach, that were women. Second, the rest of the Blackfeet dismounted from their horses, and yu themselves ther, some little wa off, eit to convince that they meant =A The superintendent thrust back his revolver into his holster, half-ashamed of himself, when he saw with whom he was to megt, and ad- vanced, extending both hands, and using the Echi salutation: “ How-ne-tuck-a?’ (How do you do?) It. was the greater part of his Blackfoot yo- cabulary. Two soft palms met his in a frank clasp, and the sweet, rich voices answered together: ‘* Neet-ahk-se.” ery well, thank you.) Then Mademoiselle Levrette broke into a sil- very laugh, and observed: “To judge from your attempts, colonel, I should imagine that we might better pursue our conversation in your own tongue, unless you oe French, so that your men may not un- erstand.” Colonel Sam stared in amazement, ejaculat- ing: SD rairend and earth, ladies! who are you, and what are doing here?” “Tam Levrette Ledoux, a chief of the Echi- peta Kainna,” said the girl, ina tone of pride. ‘You need not wonder, colonel. Even Indians are sometimes civilized, and we were both edu- cated at the Sacre Coeur of Montreal. What do you seek here?” “*T seek one of my mail-riders, Dick Darling,” said Jones, without further disguise, ‘I fear the worst for the poor lad. If he was on time, I should have met him, two stations back, but they have not heard of him, and I know that Cat’s Eye’s band is’ out on the war-path. The brutes burnt Dolores Station last night.” “T know it,” said Levrette, gravely. ‘‘ We are out after them, and trying to save him, but your fool of a station-master would not tell us when he was expected back, so we have been hunting in vain, till now. I fear that Darling is killed.” “What makes you think so, madam?’ “Tf you will trust yourself with us to ex- amine the convent moat,” said Levrette, “we will show you what we have found, Otherwise we will go on the trail of the Utes again, an trust to your honor to report Eagle Wing's bandas friendly to.the whites.” Colonel Sam threw aside all suspicion, say- ing: R I will trust you, madam, Lead on.” CHAPTER XV. THE YOUNG WARRIOR’S PROMISE. THE Superintendent of the Pony Express was aman of stout nerves, but he was fain to shud- der slightly, as he inspected, in company with the ve, dignified Blackfoot warriors, the roofs of the barbarous murder that had been one on the mail-rider. circumstances re- There were many stran vealed by the light of the lantern which one of Jones’s quickly produced, a small bull’s- eye, such as the pony expressman usually carried at night. Under its powerful light, Antelope Eye made several discoveries, which he pointed out to the girls, who translated his words to the superin- tendent, quite unconscious that the young chief understood.every word. Then a strange state of facts was developed. The mail-rider’s body was gone, and the three Ute bodies were scalped., When the superintendent saw this, he at first jumped to the conclusion that some whites had rescued Darling and. killed or driven off his enemies. The young Indian’s keen intelligence and merciless logic quickly showed him a differ- ent state of things. ‘* See,” said Antelope Eye, animatedly, ‘‘ the three Utes were killed with single shots, and no arrows stick in them. Indians would have shot them full of arrows. The white man killed them. He must have ce hard, under the walls of the big woman’s. lodge, and the black squaws have taken him in, to bury him. See the broad trail of the Utes, away from here. They went at a walk, for their horses are tired, and drag their feet in the dust. No one has been here since, or there would be.tracks.. The Utes are skunks and cowards, without heart. They are coyotes that eat their own brethren. They dare not take a man’s scalp, so they have taken the scalps of their own dead, r the whith man shot them, and thrown the bodies in the ditch.” BR Peis briskly. The man addressed hand Ly. a the silent convent. t,” said the colonel, ‘*Give me that bugle Jim Morrison. his leader a small cavalry bugle, wherewith the colonel was fond of amusing himself, and the latter blew a lively reveille before the door of the convent. It was repeated twice, with loud variations, before any notice was taken. At last a window opened above the oe and a shrill, queru- lous voice demanded: “Quien Uama, caballeros, quien Uama?” (Who calls, gentlemen, who calls‘) “ Americans, men of the mail-carrier’s route,” answered the superintendent, in Spanish. ‘‘One of our men has been killed before your door, and we want to know where you have hidden him. ‘*Go away, senores, in the name of God,” said the shrill voice. “This is a house of prayer, where no men are allowed to enter, and we can not tell you. If the poor man who was killed belongs to your people, rest content. He is in holy hands and will receive Christian burial. Buenos noches.” Then came a sharp slam to the window, as Sister Agatha shivered her way back to bed. grumbling at the ‘‘ malditos ereticos,” who had aroused her from her slumber. Colonel Sam Jones uttered, it must be owned, some language by no means complimentary to the old nun, as he growled: “You may keep your old convent, granny, I don’t want it. But where the devil are my mail-bags? That’s what I want.” “We found them on poor Darling’s saddle,” said Chevrette Ledoux. ‘‘ Bear Killer will give them to you.” It was a great relief to Colonel Sam to find his mail-matter safe. dead rider might be re- placed. Stolen mail-matter the Company was responsible for. Eagerly he clutched the bags and inspected the seals by the light of the bull’s- eye. av were intact. _Obviously the Indians had not thought it worth while to go through them. With an air of relief he observed: “Come, boys, we’ve no time to lose. Poor Darling’s been wiped out, and the convent peo- pie will bury him. _ As for us, we must ride on. im Morrison, take Darling’s mail back to Hi- dalgo Station, and carry it on. The track’s safe that side. You others come along. We must clear the way to Carson.” As _ he spoke, he turned away to his horse and mounted. Chevrette’s voice, in deep, rich tones of indig- nation, demanded: “And do you mean tosay, Mr. Superintend- ent, that you are going to jeave the body of poor Darling to buried or left by these strangers?” Colonel Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Mademoiselle, the affairs of our Company can not come to a halt for a single death. have my duty to perform, which is to restore our northern route to running order, and Ican’t spare any more time. Many thanksfor your help. Jim Morrison, did you hear my orders? Away, sir.” The mail-rider addressed had been strapping the bags on behind and in front of his saddle, and now he touched his hat, and started off on the back trail. Colonel Sam Jones removed his hat, and bowed with the utmost politeness to Levrette and her sister, then to the Blackfoot chiefs. A moment later, with only five followers, he was off at full speed on the Carson trail, to re- establish order on his beloved route. The Blackfeet, who had been grimly silent during the presence of the whites, now be to discuss their future plans. By the fact of their horses being corn fed, while they carried a day’s ration of corn behind the saddle, they had kept them in comparatively condition, so far, and the superior blood and breeding of the animals themselves promised to bring them up with the stolen chargers of the Utes, before lone. t the course of the latter would be, the coaly, surmised—a wide and sweeping circuit, and then a return home, so as to give time for mie: uw ursuit to tire itself out. ging from this well known tendency of all Indians to come back on their own trail ina circle, and noticing that the Utes’ trail tooka curve to the south at the very gate of the con- vent, Bear Killer led his troop off to the south- east, through the mountains. It was the first time he had undertaken the direction of the party, which he had hitherto trusted to the keen sight of Antelope Bye, Striking off through passes well known to the Echipeta warriors, plunging into deep canons, and Mg og 3 along narrow and precipitous passes, they found themselves at dawn nigh u among the upper passes of the Sierra, and soon
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Dick Darling. _ descried the object of their search, a file of men in the far distant valley of Reese river, slowly and dejectedly trooping along to the south. Antelope Eye, who was a near Bear Killer, noticed them first, when they were at least: four or five miles off, and dimly visible as specks on the green surface of the valley. He uttered a low hiss like that of a snake, the well- ao et warning of caution, and instantly halt- Under the guidance of Bear Killer, the Black- foot warriors receded in haste behind their horses, and made the animals lie down, to di- minish the chances of being seen by their foes, who, however, had their backs turned to them as they went. Then an animated discussion ensued between the chiefs as to the proper procedure. It was terminated by Antelope Eye, who suddenly de- veloped a determination and power of oratory for which no one had ever given him credit. In a short, animated speech, he pled him- self, if the warriors would but follow his guid- ance, to bring them to a spot where he would a the Utes into their hands, like rabbits in a net. “Tf a single Ute scalp escapes without our leave,” he declared, ‘‘I will give: my own scalp, the scalp of a chief of the Echipeta, to dry in the lodge of a root-digger. I only ask you to follow me this time, for I know where they are going, and I have more wrongs to avenge than e ~ re.” Then he ended with an account of the indig- nities he had suffered from Cat’s Eye and the Utes, and demanded permission to go first, po ie and fight his foes, to avenge those ies ith one accord the warriors assented to the request, and told him to lead on. The remark- able thing was, that the Echipeta seemed to fear only that their enemies might slip away from them, by some means. Of the impru- dence of allowing a single warrior to fight a whole band, as Antelope Eye proposed, they had no thought. For the Utes, single, they entertained a profound contempt. That very contempt it was, that made them so ferocious- ly anxious, lest a single one should escape to tell that he had insulted a maiden of the Echi- peta. As the Utes disap round a spur of the mountains, Antelope Eye led his y down a lonely pass into the heart of the Sierra. CHAPTER XVI. THE HUMAN CORRAL. Cat’s Eyr and Crow’s Foot, as perfect a pair of villains as the Great West has often seen were riding slowly south from the nunne of Santa C talking over the death of their late enemy, Dick Darling, and discussing their future prospects, the next morning after their murderous onslaught. “The young riding chief died like a man,” observed Crow’s Foot, Fravely, ‘but how are we to get the squaws? The man at the station has roused the country and the soldiers will be after us, with the guns that shoot all day,” Cat’s Eye shook his head thoughtfully. Like friend, he was beginning to realize that one may pay too dear for a whistle. ‘We ought to have kept the squaws while we had them,” he observed. ‘The Echipeta are great warriors, and they too may be soon on our track.” “The Poe are dogs,” said Crow’s Foot, savagely. ‘*Weean fight them, but the guns that shoot twice who can stand inst?” He referred to the mountain howitzers used by the troops, whose shells were always an ob- ject of great dread to the Indians. ‘“* Let my brother listen,” said Cat’s Eye, cun- ningly. ‘' The soldiers cannot march as fast as we, and the Echipeta, if on our trail, may be near us now. Letus turn aside to the mountains and hide there. te follow our trail, and we can ambush and y. them like buffaloes.” Crow’s Foot was not_loth to assent to the wis- 2 ey were ope St out of the track of emi- " grants, and entering on that wild and unknown “stretch of country in south-east Nevada, still unexplored and unknown to the whites. - Against any pursuit from these they comparativel the country, but the likelihood of their Seowred by the Blackfeet was a different mai Hitherto, they had lived at peace with their safe, from their knowl of. grim neighbors, fearing them too much to pro- voke a collision, but an insult had been offered to the tribe which they had reason to fear might provoke retaliation. Their party only numbered fifteen men all told, for they had lost seven warriors killed, in the contest at Do- lores Station and before the convent. Three of those present were slightly wounded, and they were in ill condition for a battle with un- known forces. Under these circumstances, at Cat’s Eye’s suggestion, the raiders turned aside out of the valley they were pursuing, the source of one of the tributuries of the Reese river, and entered one of the numerous canons that intersect that range of mountains. The canon led them winding deviously along through the heart of the range for six or seven miles, the poor, broken-down horses plodding along, with heads down, only partially ah orated by an occasional swallow of water. It then opened into a wide amphitheater, carpeted with luxuriant green grass, surrounded with | perpendicular precipices, and from which the only exit was on the opposite side, where the canon continued, narrower than before, to the source of its stream. Into this sheltered paradise entered the fifteen grin, ferocious-looking brutes who followed a ’s Eye and Crow’s Foot, and then for the | first time began to show symptoms of mercy to their horses. With one accord they dismounted, and turned the ge creatures loose, to feed or rest, as they might prefer. Yith hardly an exception, the weary brutes threw themselves down on the soft, rich grass, utterly broken down, and not for several min- utes did they muster che g. a to eat as they lay. But the mustang blood is too stanch and en- during to ie way thus forever. Before ten minutes had passed, first one, then another, hav- ing plucked away most of the sweet grass round his head, began to roll. Then two rose simul- taneously, shook themselves, and began to graze with avidity; and before long, all of the mus- tangs were up and feeding. The coach-horses, large, fine-looking animal: with more bone and substance than the tar gest mustang, were not so easily restored. Only one of them seemed able to feed, lying down, and the rest Sahl every symptom of an early al as they lay groaning and panting on the und. The raiders themselves were dinnerless and hungry. They had seized no food on their hur- ried journey, and were sufficiently forlorn. It was when they were clustered together in the midst of the little valley, gloomily debatin the advisability of killing a horse for food, tha the sharp war-cry of the Echipeta suddenly rung through the air. Instead of ambushing the Blackfeet, they found the tables turned on themselves, as thirty Echipeta warriors, on foot, rushed into the arena from the narrow canon beyond, and charged across to the other entrance, without firing a shot. Fifteen remained to guard each exit, and before the scattered Utes could come together and make ready for defense, they were at the merey of twice their number of warriors, any one of whom was more than a match for their best fighter. Then a dead silence fell on all the amphithea- ter, for the Utes did not dare to begin a fight which could have but one issue. They clustered together, dog: to begin. Cat’s Eye was the only coward among them. He was livid with terror, and shook from head to foot, for he felt that his race was run, It was in the midst of this silent pause that a slight movement occurred Paige, e Blackfeet at the upper end of the valley. Four mounted figures rode out from behind the line and rode boldly and tranquilly forward to the front of the entrapped Utes. Cat’s Eye uttered a groan of dismay, and his bowels seemed to give way, as he ei 3 mes in front, the two girls whom he had but lately in- i t sul and on one side Bear er, the -war-chief of the Echipeta. The slender, boyish re on her side he ized instantly. Tt was An ‘Eye, whom he robbed and turned out to starve, seven years before. - The only thing that gave him hope was, that “the lad did not seem to know him, and that his young face wore an expression of | Ute ton | lay, and shouted: and sullen, grasping their | weapons to sell their lives dearly, but unwilling | 1i “* So, dogs of root-diggers, skunks of the brushwood,” commenced Levrette, in that free and elegant style affected by her and her sister, “‘the maidens of the Echipeta are to enter the | lodges of such as you, are they? Where were | the ears of your warriors, that you could not | hear the Echipeta horse-hoofs on your trail? We do not crawl, like snakes. here were | your eyes, that ye could not see the Echipeta ail when it crossed yours, or see our scouts watch ye safe into the valley? Go, you are | dogs, skunks, not even squaws in war, A squaw of the Echipeta would hide her head in shame to | be counted such warriors as you. Ye are pap- s, fit to hang up behind a door and suck at | a squaw’s breast, to learn wisdom. Go!” o all her taunts not a man in the group an- | swered a word. Only Cat’s Eye shrunk down | behind Crow’s Foot and tried to hide himself, | which Chevrette observed, and took her turn at | railing, in true squaw style. No one would | have ever dreamed that these two young ladies | had once been inmates of the Sacre Coeur con- vent, at Montreal, and received what is known as a civilized education. The polish was pretty well rubbed off by their wild desert life, and for the nonce they were thorougbred Indians. “See the cowardly Ute slinking behind his brother, like a coyote hiding in the hole of a prairie-dog!” cried the girl, shrilly.. ‘‘ Dog and coward, come out and fall on your knees for mercy, or pieces and fed to the buzzards,” Trailing like a wounded serpent, in abject submission, the dastardly Ute crawled from the group and flung himself on his face at the feet | of Chevrette’s horse. He was completely over- come with terror. The girl pointed at him contemptuously | with her whip, and addressed Crow’s Foot in his turn: | “ You, too, dog! You who were not satisfied | with one, but must have two maidens of the oy a in your lodge, grovel in the mud and ask for pardon.” It was evident that she calculated on the force that surrounded her to enforce her mandates, In Crow’s Foot she found a different foe, Her words seemed. to yap: the slugglish Ute to the quick. He uttered a foul epithet in the e, dealt Cat’s Eye a furious kick as he ‘‘Never! Take that, sow of the Echipeta!” And he flung his knife at her. Then, raisi | his cocked pistol, he fired full at Bear Killer’s | broad breast. CHAPTER XVII. THE BOY CHIEF'S EXPLOIT. Tue Blackfoot chief was not unprepared for such a maneuver. He had his cocked pistol in hand, for he had hardly expected that such an unconditional and absolute surrender as that of Cat's Eye would be general. en Crow’s Foot fired, the Echipeta chief was in the act of spurring his horse on him with leveled wea- nm. Petine Ute was just three seconds fhe quickest, and his bullet struck Bear-Killer in the center of the breast, binging him down in a moment, Cropper from his horse like a stone, while his bullet exploded harmlessly. The next moment, the hitherto placid and ntle Antelope Eye suddenly became trans- ormed into a living thunderbolt. Before the sound of Crow’s Foot’s shot had ceased, the young chief, with a revolver in each hand, was standing on the ground in front | of his horse, and firing into the aroused Utes. In allusion to his hitherto bloodless record, he wore a white hunting-shirt and le gs, his hair was covered with white clay, and his face was painted white, while his horse was white as snow, With his first shot he felled Crow’s Foot, pierced through the heart, and the next mo- ment the remaining thirteen Utes were firing at him, madly and cont y. arock s e, a pistol in each hand, and his Antelope yi shots pealed out with a regularity and pitiless accuracy that were Then were first revealed the fruits of that pa- tient training which the Mae chief had so long secretly und e. Ithad developed, out t a ly keen, and stoic nerves, Seen To dod chee Sie ce ae every » and whose ro glance de- tected, at each shot, which was the man to kill ! Twelve shots pealed forth in as many seconds, and when Antelo Bid my’ the still smoking weapons at the % of the two remaining of a orm: ) men, tip ground was covered with dead sigs a and he was still unwounded. With a fierce ye of triumph, the young chief snatched from his your heart shall be cut into small
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12 i ais a third revolver, and covered his remain- oes. ut he needed not to shoot. With a howl of superstitious dismay, both dropped on their knees, holding up their hands for mercy, and Antelope Eye disdainfull beckoned them forward, with his cocked pinto. Then, for the first time, he withdrew his foot | from where it had been planted during the fight, on the neck of the prostrate dastard, Cat’s oh e whole thing was over in a quarter of a minute. One instant was seen a group of sullen, defiant Utes, doggedly grasping their weapons, then came a sudden movement, a succession of red | flashes and sharp reports, men falling like nine- Lad a silence; and a white figure standing in nt of a group of horses, motioning forward two abject, crawling Indians to his feet. Levrette and Chevrette sat on their horses gazing at Antelope Eye, in silent wonder and awe-stricken admiration. The quiet, graceful boy had become, at a bound, the greatest war- rior of his tribe. Single-handed, he had slain twelve men, and conquered three more. The Blackfeet at the end of the valley, while ually amazed, were equally silent. Only Bear er, the tough old warrior, who had just staggered to his feet in spite of his fearful wound, uttered a faint cry of triumph. It was in the midst of a deep silence, that An- telope are motioned to the two cowards to drop their pistols, which they did. “Draw your knives,” he said, sternly, ‘‘ scalp the slain, and ne Pe the scalps here.’ With humble a rity, but shuddering all over, the unhappy wretches complied with the Pee order, and delivered their tale of scalps to e implacable Nemesis, developed in the beauti- ful boy. Without a word, paslone Eye shot them both down at his feet when their task was done, and then gave a disdainful kick to the prostrate Cat’s Eye. “Up, dog of a Ute,” he said, scornfully. bs p your Ler rare oy lay all the scalps at my feet, tied in a bundle.” Quive from head to foot, the dastard spare. and was confronted by the awful fury that now at last began to work in the features of the ig: og “ Ha, , Skunk, Toad of the Utes!” hissed Antelope Eye. ‘‘Crawling reptile of the sage- brush! do you remember me now? When three Ute braves found one boy of the Echipetas they stole on him in his sleep, robbed him, and turned him out naked on the prairie, in the snow, to die. But he found his pay nome, trap- rabbits with the hairs of his head, to feed on the way, and swore vengeance on you and your an ‘pyrite They are es you live, and s ive, till you pray for deat swine and toad of an unclean mother!” : As he ke, he spit on the degraded chief, and turned away. Picking up the bundle of Ute scal cmp Bye’s manner c in an instant, ashe spo ars’ fer proudl Levrette: - task is done. A warrior offers the scalps of fourteen Utes, and claims his reward. The maidens will enter the lodge of the young- est chief of the Echipeta.” Levrette bowed her head low. “The choice remains with the chief,” she said. “The maidens of the Echipeta will keep their word, for Antelope Eye is a great chief.’ Here a deep, guttural voice broke in on the co y. Itwas that of Bear Killer, who stood close by, bearing with the wonderful physical fortitude and strength of an Indian, a wound that would have left a white man helplessly om on his back. “No onger Antelope Eye,” said the veteran, vely. ‘“* Myson is no moreaboy. He has me a man among men. From henceforth the tribe shall know only Waw-skeen-ska— White Thunder, the chief; for he was white as the mountain snow, and deadly as the thunder of Wahcondah.” And as White Thunder the young chief. was known from that moment, not only in his own tribe, but among all his neighbors. : White Thunder it was, who turned disdain- fully away once more to the Sanne Ute, crouched humbly at his feet, his eyes imploring- ly fixed on the young chief, while his quivering lips begged for rags “Strip off your clothes, coward,” said White Thunder, sternly. ‘‘ A coyote should not wear the hide of a warrior. Strip.” Without venturing on an expostulation, the abject Ute complied with the order, throwing down his clothes with servile haste. White Thunder sprung on his horse, and beck- oned to the Blackfeet at the other end of the valley. A number of them ran forward, obey- ing his ure as if he had been their head war- chief. is recent wonderful exploit had im- ressed them with such admiration, that, for the ime, White Thunder was omnipotent. Under his orders, the wounded Bear Killer was placed upon a litter, hastily constructed of lances and blankets, and carried slowly away to the exit of the valley, to undertake the home journey. Then the remaining chiefs mounted their horses, and for the first time the degraded Ute, Cat’s Eye, was brought into public notice. There he stood, or rather crouched, a little way | | off, stripped to the skin, and evidently dreadin the worst, from the ominous silence preserv about him, up to that time. White Thunder pointed at the shivering cow- ard, such a rare exception to his stoic race, and said to the chiefs: ‘*Behold the dog that stole on a boy of the Echipetas in his sleep with three do © him- self, stripped him naked and turned him out. A warrior dies by steel and bullet. A dog is lash- ed to death. Ihave said.” Tt needed no further hint, The Blackfeet. like all Indians, carry short, buffalo-hide whips, with a pointed thong that cuts like a knife. At the words of White Thun- der, they uttered a yell of mingled scorn and fierce delight, and PSiaod down on the unhap- py wretch. Cat’s Eye knew what was coming. Goaded to desperation, he turned and fled like a deer to the Mg 6 entrance of the valley, hoping to reach it before pursuit could arrest him. Behind him scoured the Echipeta, yelling like a pack of hounds, and soon came up with him, Then the cruel sport commenced, as one chief, measuring his distance with pitiless accuracy, caught the flying Ute with the end of his sabing a 1 piece of flesh out of his back, and giving way to another who repeated the opera- tion. They did not attempt to intercept his flight, but before he reached the narrow can- on, he had received twenty-five such lashes, under each of which he howled piteously like a whipped dog, and his back and thighs were cov- jefe § with blood. The torture, however, seemed only to lend him additional strength, for he to gain the canon at last, where only asingle horseman could follow him, and up its rock he in haste, where the proud chiefs disdained to follow him. Laughing me yepet 5 at his cowardice, they rode slowly back to where White Thunder calm- ly awai them, and took up their return march to camp. CHAPTER XVIII. PATIENT AND NURSE. In a large, of a room, deliciously cool in contrast with the hot, suffocating glare of the sun outside, lay stretched on a couch, the form of a young man, his face pinched, pale and haggard, a beard of a month’s growth on his chin, his long hair in tangled curls spread over the pillow. He lay there, y seeming alive as he had lain ever since the hot delirium an Ht es of his wounds had subsided, three days ore. Few Bf a — recognized a ee sallow, ace the once dashing, me youn me -rider, who had been left for dead *t the gates of the convent of Santa Clara, a month since, The nuns had hurried out when the Indians were EY and picked him up, under the direc- tion of old Padre Junipero. They had brought him into the infirmary, thinking him dead, and at i to lay him out and give him Christian It was only when he was covered with the sheet, that the little novice, , who had been remarkably quiet and pale, never uttering a word during the whole scene, stole to his side, be ped uttered a loud shriek. the nuns were No one had ever known the child to exhibit excitement before. U: y, she was remarkably quiet and placid. At her cry they all came running an were amazed when told yey panting and trembling with excitement, that the youns cav- alier was alive. She could hear his heart beat. Old Padre Junipero was appealed to, as the medical authority of the convent, and he, after a long and careful examination, pronounced that Chiquita was right. The youth was alive, but, from the wounds he received, could not probably live more than another heur or two. But here again La Chiquita amazed her | stam to tell friends. She actually had the co + know Padre Junipero to his face that he di what he was talking about. ‘“How can you, father, when you have not examined him? His clothes are all clotted with blood, but you have not seen his wounds. He must not die. He shall not die! Tl nurse him. Quick, cut off his clothes, and wash these wounds. You ought to be ashamed to let a fel- low Christian perish before your eyes.” | And La Chiquita, trembling with excitement, and somewhat resembling an en dove, her little foot and began to cry. Padre Junipero looked as much aghast, as a shepherd might if a small lamb were suddenly to butt him in the stomach. He looked confused, but at once busied him- self to restore the insensible youth. The older nuns, most of whom had been mothers in their time, and had taken the vail in old widowhood, hustled La Chiquita away, toher amazement, for the child was absolutely and entirely innocent as to the reason of their con- duct, and then cut off the clothes of the poor wounded lad, and washed away the blood with great gentleness, while Padre Junipero examin- ed the wounds. We have said that the old priest was the medi- cal authority of the convent, but in fact his knowledge was of the slightest, and chiefly con- fined to such simple remedies as he had picked up during a long mission life among the Indians, from their old medicine-men. In treating the injured man, he probably did the best that could have been done, which was to bind up his wounds, pour some spirits down his throat, and leave him to nature for recovery, The wounds that Dick Darling had received were many and severe, but there was one cir- cumstance in his favor, that no bullets had lodged. From the short distance at which they had been fired, every one had gone entirely through limb or body. Only one had penetrated the body, and that one was in the right breast; there were holes through each arm, and one through the left thigh, besides at least a dozen gashes, where bullets had pak her up the flesh in various abe Cut and hacked to pieces, as he was all seeming, no vital part had been touched, owing to the suddenness and rapidity of the short con- test, at the full speed of galloping horses, The mail-rider had succumbed to loss of blood and the shock of so many bullets striking him, and there seemed to be but little chance of life for him, so completely exhausted was he. e fiery iente, or brandy, which was poured down his throat, was the first thing to revive him. Under its influence he choked and opened his eyes, and tried to speak. The old priest gently bid him lie still, and the poor fellow, after one wondering glance at the nuns, closed his eyes in, From that moment he was watched over priest and nuns alike, with the. most kindly soli- citude, and as day after day went by, and he still lived, even Padre Junipero began to enter- tain hopes of his ultimate recovery. As for La Chiquita, the child, from that first moment in which she had found his heart beat- ing, seemed to be quite confident and content. When every face was gloomy, she insisted on watching at his bedside, giving him the sou and brandy that were s Oey: ad from time to time, by spoonfuls, and so lit- - erally keeping him alive from day to day. The old nuns, who were growing lazier and more selfish than the enthusiastic novice, were quite willing to resign the post to her. She was not yet a professed nun, and had six months of her novitiate to go through. Moreover, Fran- cesca was the daughter of a rich haciendado, who had lately died, leaving her an immense fortune, and to get that fortune for the convent of Santa Clara, it was necessary to make Senorita Francesca de Ribera into a nun, which could only be done by keeping her in good tem- per. Hitherto, the little girl had been an enthusi- astic devotee, arg? for the day to come on which she should e the vail. If the nuns made the convent disagreeable to her, there was no telling how soon she might leave them; for they were well aware that her family, and es- pecially her brother, who owned half the haci- e were by no means anxious to see their ey property clutched by any religious So La Chiquita found herself, by common con- sent, installed as head nurse over the poor wounded mail-driver. Not that there seemed any danger to her in the fact. Contrary to the ordinary romantic notions on the subject, a man desperately wound-
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ed is not a pleasant patient, and as time goes on, becomes poate offensive to delicate nerves. Poor Dick Darling, haggard and unshorn, with rominent cheek-bones and glaring eyes, amid a orest of frowsy, tangled hair, was very differ- ent from the Dick Darling who rode out, trim and handsome from Dolores Station. As his nu- merous wounds began to suppurate in that sul- try climate, the odor became very sickening: and altogether, while an object of the greatest pity, there was nothing attractive or in any way romantic about him. Here he had been, lingering between life and death, for a full month, when at last the fever and delirium subsided, and he lay there, as we found him at the beginning of our chapter, inexpressibly weak, but on the road to recov- r ery. And beside him, in the cool, dark i ’ with her white hood drawn forward over her face, but watching the sleeper furtively, while a ntle smile of ineffable content wreathed her ps, sat La Chiquita, telling her beads slowly. Dick Darling suddenly opened his eyes, and they met hers. ‘“Who are you?’ he asked, faintly, “ and what is this place?’ CHAPTER XIX. AN IDYL. La Curgurra turned on her patient with a se- vere and magisterial air. She did not under- stand a word he said, Spanish being her only pars, but she conceived that he was question- ing er. She put her finger on her lip, and said, th an assumption of authority that was very ludicrous in one so childishly beautiful: “ Bs menester que tu no hables chico.” (You must not speak, little one.) Dick Darling stared in wonder, and a faint smile crossed his lips. It was the first return to absolute sense, since his wounds. Like all Californians, he under- stood some Spanish, and more than most of them. It was with a very humble air that he said: “ Ah, senorita, quiere usted me decir en donde yo soy? No hablara mas, si yo lo supie- ra,” (Ah, miss, will you tell me where lam? I would not talk any more, if I knew it.) La Chiquita ed, but held up her finger re- provingly. ‘**You are in the convent of Santa Clara, among friends. You were hurt before our gates, and have been very ill. I am Sister Francesca, our nurse; and you must be very obedient, or Y shall go away and leave you, for Padre Juni- pero says you must not . Now lie still. I am going to give you some food, you poor child, and then you must go to sleep,” It was interesting to note the commanding and motherly air with which the little novice’ addressed her patient. To see her repair to the little soup-saucepan which was simmering in a corner of the room over a little lamp, pour some into a basin and approach the patient, was a wonderful sight in itself. With her brow puckered in a_ thoughtful frown, and her rosy lips compressed in an ex- ion of anxious importance, she proceeded administer the said soup to the wounded man with scrupulous care. When a drop ran down his chin she scolded him gently for his carelessness, and abashed the poor youth so that he choked over the next mouthful, and a spasm of pain seized him, Then the severe little nurse dropped her dig- nity and became dreadfully frightened, Dick ceased to gasp for breath and mg Cranes. exhausted, when she began to cheer him up once more, and pet him as if he was a little child. At last, with an innocent unconsciousness that showed that she must have frequently done it before, she softly dropped a kiss on his forehead, and told him to go to sleep or she would leave him. P Dick obeyed orders with marvelous docility. It is surprising how much more influence ‘is exerted by a beautiful nurse than an ugly one. He lay back and fell asleep, dreaming that he was wandering in the y bowers of Para- dise, and that a bevy of angels surrounded him and carried him off, of which every one wore the serious Madonna face of Francesca de Ribera. When Dick woke again it was quite dark the room was chilly, a small night light burn near the bed, and he felt shivering and decided- ly hungry. In the So wicker chair by the bed sat a solemn black bowed over and hunched up, very different from the slender figure of ancesca in its white robes. Dick Darling. 13° Dick lay staring at it for a few minutes, in doubt whether it were not merely a change of dream. He perceived the wrinkled face of a fat old woman encircled by a white ban like that of a corpse, while the rest of her y was enveloped in somber black. The old nun had fallen asleep with her nose on her breast and was snoring and wheezing away in peaceful unconsciousness. The young man stirred and tried to raise himself, finding, in the operation, that he was absolutely unable to turn in bed. He was free from pain while he lay still, but when he moved either arm he was sensible that he was more or less damaged—how, he had quite for- gotten. The past seemed but a dream to him since he left Carson on his return trip. He had a faint memory of a confused Indian fight, and that was all. Now, however, the discomfort of his position, for he was weak and cold and hungry, made him irritable. He began to call out as loud as he could, which was little above a whisper, and the old nun suddenly gave a start and snort of affright and woke up. Once awake she soon made him comfortable, for, like all old nuns, she was a trained nurse. She threw a soft warm cotton quilt over the bed to warm him, fed him skillfully with soup, and talked to him all the while in the comfort- ing, motherly strain that good nurses assume to their weak patients. Dick, at inclined to be sulky about his change of nurses, soon became reconciled to the change, ate a hearty supper of thick soup, and slept like a top, till next noon, when he woke, refreshed and voracious. To his inexpressible satisfaction, Sister Fran- cesca was there by his bedside; and when he awoke, she bent over and kissed him again, just as innocently as if he was a child, while she talked to him in the same low, soothing man- ner as the old nun, which in such a young girl had something inexpressibly and funnily charming. Dick Darling, it must be confessed, took un- fair a of his position as a patient that morning. ° ey on airs, and made himself out worse than he was. The real fact was, that he felt quite free from pain, clear in head, and very hungry. He was able to move his arms, ——_ not to turn his body. He pretended that he needed raising up, his pillows arranged, etc., etc., that he might have the pleasure of feeling the soft arms of the little novice round him. He was so much reduced in weight that she had no difficulty in moving him. en he demanded to sit up and be propped up with illows while he took his breakfast, aagl kept r Francesca waiting patiently, spoon in hand, for at least twenty minutes, while he slowly enjoyed the meal that he pretended to be unable to swallow. At last he grew ashamed of himself for his tyranny, and when the little novice came to lay him down again he caught hold of her white hand and kissed it fervently, saying: “God bless you, Sister cesca. You are an . The little novice blushed ever so slightly, but she smiled with an air of calm p on, as she said: “You. must not excite Junipero will scold. to sleep.” But Dick suddenly became rebellious and dem He wanted to talk and ask some — He was growing nervous, he said. e could not sleep, He would not sleep. He felt the fever coming on. She must talk and tell him how he came there, or he might grow worse. Little Sister Francesca, yielding by nature, was frightened into a quick compliance. Her patient already discovered that he was the ourself, child, or ow you must go master there, and, man-like, used the -power. | The little novice did not know her own heart yet. The handsome cavalier that had caused it to flutter, a month before, had disappeared, as it were, swallowed up in the past, as if he had never been, The poor _patient before her was quite a distinct being, to whom she felt a sort of motherly protecting love, that seem to her perfectly innocent and commendable. Insensibly to herself, she fell into a long con- versation with Dick, wherein he lay quiet, ask- nen occasional question, while she talked on, in her low sweet tones of voice, telling him how she saw the terrible fight before the convent walls, and how bravely the cavalier fought, ere he was shot down. She described it, as if he had been another person, for she had evidently forgotten that the man lay beside her, and her face glowed with enthusiasm as she told of the battle. Then, when she came to tell of his sufferings, and how she first found that he was alive, her eyes filled with tears, and insensibly she found herself holding Dick’s hand and petting it softly, as she — the long struggle between life and eath. When Padre Junipero looked into the sick room one hot afternoon about six weeks later, on his medical visit, what should he see but his innocent little novice La Chiquita, sitting beside his patient’s couch in a most endearing attitude, cooing ‘away like a dove to her mate, while the American lay back on his pillows, with his hollow eyes errno, light, and a soft happy smile irradia ting his face. It was a clear case of love. ‘“‘ AnEM! !” said Padre Junipero, as he looked at them. . CHAPTER XX. THE SIRENS. WHEN Padre Junipero uttered that vigorous cough, La Chiquita started violently, and look- up. Then, as she a the severe glance of the old priest, she suddenly turned deep crimson, and covered her face with her hands, trembling from head to foot. Her eyes were opened at last. As for Dick Darling, he turned round on the priest with very different feelings. Ten weeks’ repose and the best of food had made a great change in the wounded man. Early that morn- ing, Dick had risen from his couch alone and un- assisted, when Sister Agatha, whose turn if was to watch, was snoring in her chair. He had made several discoveries when he came to stand: first, that his arms and other flesh wounds were almost well; second, that the hole in his right breast was filled up; third, that although he was very weak, he could walk, without any trovble. It was in the full triumph of these discoveries that he had returned to his couch, determined | to make an effort to get out, for he was tired of” his imprisonment among the old nuns. It was only when Sister Francesca came, as she always did about an hour before noon, to assume her post, that Dick began to reconsider his determination. After all, there were worse positions than being petted by a little nun with the face of a Madonna. And so, somehow, their conversation that morning gradually taken a confidential character, as the young mail-rider began to ask questions about convent life, and the novice had told him of her determination to take the vail-at the end of the year. And then Dick had implored her not to do it, for his sake, and had to coax her, though still without daring to declare the love that really burned in his breast. And La Chiquita, still innocent of what she was coming to, had admitted that of late, the convent duties had begun to be irksome to her, and that her brother Gonzalo did not want her to be a nun; and finally, won by Dick’s entreat- ies, she consented to think over leaving the con- vent, and returning to the world, while the mail-rider, who, as we have di was a — of considerable refinement and education, ~ or all his whee calling, pictured to her how happy he should be, after his trips, to be able to visit her at her hacienda near Santa Barbara. It was while describing the future to each other in glowing colors, though still without any word of love or marriage, that Padre Junipero came in and found La Chiquita prattling away, while she patted and played with Dick’s listless — a “gard that had me gas habitual wi er, when petting her patien But the old Priest's ‘* anEM!!!” opened the eyes of the lovers in a moment. hile La hiquita quivered with shame and. confusion, Dick turned fiercely aan Padre Junipero. ‘‘ Tt isusual for gentlemen to knock at the door when they enter a sick-room,” he said. ‘ You have frightened the lady and me, father.” ‘‘ Be content, my son,” said the priest, dryly. ‘This is no eo tes sick-room, _ ou are wing well, perhaps well. Pachita, m Shild, you will come to confession at three this afternoon. Meantime, you can send Sister Agatha here.” — ick rose up in bed. “Stay here, senorita,” he said, firmly. “Padre Junipero has no right to control you, 7 you have just promised me not to take the - Oh, no, no, Ricardo, I did not quite prom- ise,” murmured La iquita, brokenly. while Padre Junipero opened his eyes very wide.
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~ and less beautiful, and 14 Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. Then Dick gave convincing proof that he was uite well and as firm and determined as ever. He suddenly gathered ‘the little novice to his heart and confronted the amazed priest with glowing eyes. “Padre Junipero,” he said, boldly, ‘you see she loves me and I love her. You can not have this novice for a nun, for she is*to be my wife. That is the reason, is it not, Pachita?”’ Pachita madé no answer. She did not even stir. When she heard those terribly bold words of Dick, and thought of facing the old nuns, the poor little thing was completely overcome with a rush of conflicting emotions, shame, terror and a deep sense of guilt, in consequence of feel- ing a certain thrill of joy, that she was certain she ought not to feel. What with all these, and feeling that the eye of Padre Junipero was fixed on her, lying thus in the arms of a man, without struggling, poor Pachita fainted dead away in Dick’s arms. Dick did not know this, for the novice’s face was hid in his breast, and he felt that her silence implied consent. He turned his language to English, which the priest spoke well. ‘“You see, father,” he said, “‘she loves me. You may as well give up, and marry us. Her family will help her out of this, if they won’t let her marry an American. Come, which is best, to lose her to them or to me?” ‘To them, undoubtedly, senor,” said the priest, coldly. ‘‘ Your proposition to me is base, or you would speak it, so as to let Pachita com- prehend.” -Dick gathered Pachita closer to his breast with a careless hug. ‘‘Don’t you worry, father, about her. She knows as well as I that her family won’t let her m me willingly. At the same time, once married, they can not separate us, and if you perform the ceremony, you will be our friend, and earn our gratitude.” Padre Junipero hesitated. Like all priests of whatever denomination, a a keen eye for the dollars, and Dick’s words implied a hand- some reward, While he was thus musing over the question, he turned abruptly — o the window and looked absently out, on the hot, glaring, dusty landscape, outside. Something he saw there, under the convent walls, disturbed — his thoughts. In front of the gateway, and looking up at the window, were two women, of magnificent brunette beauty, with long, satin-like tresses of black hair, gathered together on the back of the head, and falling in showers behind. The two women were gorgeously dressed in the style of Indian warriors on the war-path, wearing leg- gings of velveteen loaded down with gold lace, Fnile their necks, arms and bosoms were load- ed with necklaces, medals, chains, bracelets, and every other sort of ornament, in a marvelously picturesque mingling of civilized and savage adornnment. Each girl wore the head-dress, only worn by the highest chiefs of the i and Upsaro- ka tribe, composed of a crest of feathers at least two feet high, on the head of a tiger-cat, the whole fastened to the hair and blending with it, gradually sloping off and falling nearly to the ground behind. The priest was so much amazed at these wo- men warriors, who sat on their spotted char; ers, bristling with revolvers, and looking straight at him, that he was compelled to mumble a pa- ternoster to himself before he could get his sen- ses fully. _ There the two beautiful, wicked-looking crea- tures sat, like leopards of the forest, lithe, beau- tiful and dangerous, looking straight at Padre Junipero. . Then one of them put up her finger and beck- oned to the padre, with a soft smile that was irresistibly captivating. : ; adre Junipero crossed himself piously, and repeated the invocation against evil spirits. He had seen Indians and squaws by hundreds, dirty hen see creatures, whose appearance created nothing but disgust; but such beings as this he had never seen. Cleopatra in her — might have looked so though Padre Junipero crossed himself devoutly and repeated the exor- cism once more, it was no use. Try as he might, he could not help looking, and the world wi Ln was stronger than all his prayers and reso- utions! Finally, Padre Junipero gave in bodily. The alluring siren on the left hand, kept smiling and beckoning him down, and he could stand it no more; so out of the sick-room, down the corri- dor, past all the cells where the nuns were taking their noonday siesta, he passed till he came to the little postern door that opened out on. the moat. Here, as he expected, he found the two strange, mysteriously-beautiful women, waiting for him, and was. greeted with the salutation, in low tones: ‘* Good father, will you not let us in? We wish to speak to you.” Padre Junipero trembled. ‘“My daughters, I dare not. If the nuns were to hear of my admitting women, dressed as you are, I should be disgowned in a fort- night.” © one who. had spoken laughed a low, melo- dious laugh. CHAPTER XXII. THE RED LORD AND MASTER. THE two girls, with a gesture full of grace caught up from where they fell over the horses? croups, behind, two rich scarlet-cloth blankets, bordered. with gold, and very different from the usual envelope of an Indian. . With a care- less flirt, each threw her mantle over her shoul- ders, and sat there, muffled from head to foot in scarlet. ‘‘There, father, are we presentable now?’ asked the one who had not hitherto spoken, in Very pure Spanish. ‘‘ The holy sisters may call us Nuns of the Sierra, if they like. Besides, they are all asleep. There will be time for us to have our little talk with you, before they awake.” Padre Junipero hesitated. There was some- eine the actions, if not the words of these mysterious women, that made his heart beat like a small earthquake. They sat there, smil- ing bewitchingly at him, and alluring him to let them in, for what purpose he could not. tell, but somehow he louodk himself wishing them in, and that the moat was not so broad. In a few moments the plank was pushed across, and Padre Junipero, fat, jolly, and rosy, beckoned for the two womén-warriors to cross. As soon as it was fairly across, one of the wo- men leaped down, and held it secure, while her sister, driving her long lance into the ground, tied both horses to the yet quivering weapon, and leaped off in her turn. Then both women stole lightly over the bending plank to the nar- row postern. Once inside, the door was hastily slammed to. and Padre Junipero felt a pair of soft, rounded arms thrown round his neck. But what is the reason that the clasp of those arms suddenly closes so tightly? t is the reason that one of these mysterious women, ree | higher than Padre Junipero (who is a short, fat man), suddenly whirls round behind him, the other in front, while both hug him tightly in their arms Padre Junipero finds the arm of the woman behind under his chin, pressing against hi throat with throttling force, the woman in front seizes his wrists and brings them together with a low laugh; he hears a click, feels some- thing hard encircling his wrists, realizes that he is handcuffed, and at the same moment the per- fidious beauty in front raises one little moc- casined foot, and plants a vigorous kick right over the place where Padre Junipero’s food is oe to lie, before di ion. was a very cruel thing to do, but it an- swers the woman’s p . Witha low groan, cut short by pain, the father confessor slips down on the floor, completely powerless. ‘* Quick, Levrette, the lasso,” says the lively lady, so dexterous with her feet. ‘*Never mind,” says the more stately Lev- rette. ‘‘ Here’s an empty cell. Shove him in and lock him up.” No sooner said than done. Each girl takes an arm, and they drag the groaning priest down the corridor to a dark cell-hole, where they throw him into some unknown depth. They hear him go bump, bump, on some stone steps, and Levrette says, gigg a ‘‘Tt’s the wine-cellar, I believe, Chevie. He won’t hurt. Let’s bolt him in.” The door is bolted, top and bottom, and then the two girls steal back to the postern, laughing at the success of their trick. Levrette looks out and gives a low whistle. It is answered from the old ruined stable that had contained the assassins of Dick Darling. A moment later, a tall, slender chief, whose costume is identical with that of the two girls, and equally magnificent in material, while his handsome face is guiltless of paint, comes gal- loping out to the postern, leaps from his horse, and crosses the swaying plank with active step. ’ \ ‘¢-You called me; I am come,” he says, in the deep, musical tones of an Indian. It was a grand sight to see the two that stood in the convent corridor, the tall, stately chief, with his serene, aquiline face, towering above the glorious peseuby: of the two French-Indian Amazons. From the way in which they twined about him, it was easy to see that White Thun- der’s lodge was not yet disturbed by jealousy, and that Levrette and Chevrette adored him. Warrior girls as they were, with the privilege of bearing arms and riding on the chase with the chief, they were subdued to softness at his side, whose prowess they had witnessed. ‘** What is it that my singing-birds desire?” he again asked, in his caressing manner. ' “Listen,” said Levrette, softly. ‘‘ Before we knew how true was the aim of White Thunder, and before we were bought with the scalps of our foes, we both knew a youth, who rode for the great father in the East. He was a boy, but we both loved him, not as we love White Thunder, but still passing well. He was slain by the Utes in front of this building, as the black squaws say, but we do not. believe it, and we are going to find out whether they lied or not. Is it good?” “Tt is good,” said White Thunder, gravely. If the man lives, he is a brave warrior, who killed three Utes single-handed.. Lead on.” ‘“He is not dead,” said Chevrette. ‘‘ The squaws who bring fish to the convent told me that so fa a sick man here, and it must be our Darling.” ‘* Yes,” said Levrette, ‘‘ and the black squaws are keeping him a prisoner, because they have no man in the convent.” White Thunder frowned. “Tt shall not be. A brave man is not to be mewed in a cell, or burrowed like a woodchuck. Let us take him out.” “ Agreed,” cried Levrette and Chevrette to- gether. Then the three Indians, all appareled as war- | riors on the war-path, and all so strangely beau- | tiful, stole swiftly and noiselessly along the con- | vent corridors. Soon they came to the rows of cells, with half- open doors, where the nuns lay taking their siesta in a SHAY MOET of death, for each nun lay in her coffin, according to the rules of the order, and the bandages around their faces gave them the appearance of corpses in cere- ments. Levrette and Chevrette were used to this sight, from their early convent experience as children, but White Thunder seemed very much impressed with the spectacle of the coffined nuns. The two girls, as they passed each door, shot the bolts quietly on the outside, and thus had the happiness, in a very short time, of locking up forty-three nuns and the Reverend Mother, snoring away in peaceful unconsciousness, The nuns-being secured against giving any alarm, the two girls dropped the caution they had hitherto displayed. “There can be no more, Chevie,” said Lev- rette, in French. ‘‘ You remember how all the sisters slept ina row at the Sacre Coeur. All we have to do is to find the Infirmary now. Our Darling’s there if he’s alive.” “He is alive,” said White Thunder, speaking for the first time in his life in the language he had so long secretly understood. ‘‘ He lives, and we shall find him. Then, if you wish him to live, keep away from him, tor ite Thunder is not a fool.” Had a thunderbolt fallen, the two girls could not have been more utterly crushed and as- tounded than when the young chief, for the first time, gave evidence that he understood what they had been saying. Had it not been for an uncontrollable spasm of qe at hearing his wives ing so familiarly and lovingly of Dick Darling before his very face, White Thun- der might have kept his secret. The two girls, never yet restrained by any necessity of pru- dence, any more than young men, on account of their pe ect freedom in the tribe, had become, as we have seen, as wild as young colts at pas- ture, full of animal spirits, queens of the desert, and unused to control themselves. The Black- foot chiefs they despised, as mental inferiors; the coarse whites, like Hardin, for their manners, Dick Darling was the only man they had seen who could talk to them of the world, and who was not, like Colonel Sam Jones, of a class too high to marry an Indian woman. In this mat- ter of blood, the sting of humiliation that they had often felt in the East, and which, more than any thing else, had driven them from civiliza- tion to the wilderness, merely rendered their haughtiness more ineffable. The sneer of “‘half- ——— eS ae
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15 Dick Darling. 5 aE — 2 = = “ Mi querida Pachita! Anjel demi alma! Never shall you replace that hideousthood again, while Ricardo is here to protect you. Let who will come. Padre Junipero sha yet Ae and we will be hap Your brother will relent when he finds that we are safe married, and I shall rise high yet, in our Golden State. Do you not believe him : Mi Ricardo, I believe you can do any thing,” said the soft voice of La Chiquita, fondly, as she raised her lips to meet his. “‘ My riches—I never prized them till now—but they will en- able you to follow a career worthy of your blood and education, querido; and I shall be proud of you when you sit in Congress and make great speeches.’ ow me, unless | denly rushing forward, with a sort of strangled | shriek of fury and jealousy. your doll spoiled.” As she spoke she neh er out a pistol, aimed at Francesca’s head, and was about to fire, when Dick suddenly rushed between, and interposed less on the floor. ‘Fire here, if you must, Chevrette,” cried the youth, sternly. ‘I never said I loved you. You and your sister plagued me to death, but never gave you more than civility. Fire away e . you must, but at me, not at this innocen Chevrette had stood glaring at him, her bosom | panting and heaving with fury, her frame half- crouched, like a tiger ready to spring. A mo- ment later, she rushed round to kill the girl, and pulled the trigger just as he caught her arm. The bullet. rebounded against the wall, and a moment later he was struggling with the frenzied woman for the pistol, which she tried to use on poor Pachita. . In the excitement, neither noticed loud shouts outside the convent, but a moment later White Thunder and Levrette dashed into the room, The chief made but one stride to Chevrette’s side, as she was breaking away from*the ex- hausted Darling. He laid his iron grasp on her wrist, and dragged her to one side of the room, with his other hand on her throat, shaking her as a chief treats his squaw. “Ts White Thunder a coyote, that the Fawn throws dirt on his robe?’ he thundered, in his guttural Blackfoot dialect. ‘‘ Let the squaw re- member that she is the promised wife of a chief, and leave other men alone. I have spoken.” He had indeed, and the impetuous, undisci- ae girl found she had met her fate. Per- | haps it suited her wild nature better than an- other, for Indians never take kindly to Christian ractices. Any way, she bowed herself at the eet of White Thunder, and humbly kissed his hand. She had accepted her fate. The angry chief turned to Darling, but before he could speak, there was a clatter of steps on the stone corridor, and loud voices. Dick Dar- ling started round in delight, crying, as he heard one voice that he knew: “Thank God! Safe at last!” ‘“Whar is he? Whar’s the old ring-tailed galoot?” bellowed the voice of Jack Hardin. ‘I know’d the squaws didn’t lie when they said he war hidden hyar, and ef I don’t hev him aout in short order, nun or no nun, darn me fura skunk. Hyar he is, by gosh!” And the station-master rushed into the room, followed by a crowd of rough miners, yelling: “T know’d Id find him among the gals, the luxuriant cuss! Why, Dick Darling, you orna- ry, old, long-legged galoot, how are ye?” ‘That night Padre Junipero married Dick Darling to Francesca de Ribera, and Jack Hardin stood by, with Colonel Sam Jones, for witnesses. The confessor received a fee enough to settle the consciences of fifty ministers, Dick left the Pony Route and went to Santa Barbara, quite satisfied that for his wounds he had ob- tained for a wife the most beautiful heiress in California. ~ White Thunder and his beautiful wives disap- . Some day we may see more of them. t day was the last time any of them ever saw Dick DARLING. THE END. The Sunnyside Library. 1 Latua Rooxn. By Thomas Moore........... 10c. 2 Don Juan, By Lord Byron... .............. 20e. 8 Parapise Lost. By John Milton ............. 10e. 4 Tue Lapy or rue Lake. Sir Walter Scott... 10c, 5 Luctrtz.. By Owen Meredith... ........).... 10¢ 6 UnDINE, OR THE WATER-Sprrit. 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DEADWOOD DICK, 1 Deadwood Dick, THe Prince or THE Roap; or, Tae Brack Riper or THE BLAack Hitts. By Edward L. Wheeler. Yellowstone Jack; or, Tux TRAPPER OF THE ENCHANTED Grounp. By Jos. »E, Badger, Jr., author of “ Pacific Pete,” etc. 3 Kansas King ; or, THe Rep RiGuHT Hanp. By Buffalo Bill (Hon. Wm. F. Cody). The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 5 Vagabond Joe; THE Youna WANDER- InG Jew. By Oll Coomes. 6 Bill Biddon, ayamper or, LIFE IN THE NorrHwest. By Edward §. Ellis. The Fl Yankee; or, Tur OCEAN Ourcast. y Col. Prentiss Ingraham, bes, Seth Jones; or, THE CAPTIVES OF THE Frontier; By Edward 8. Ellis. 9 The Adventures of Baron Mun- chausen. 10 Nat Todd; or, THe Fate or THE Sroux Captive. A Sequel to ‘ Bill Biddon, Trapper.”’ By Edward §. Ellis. 1 1 The Two Detectives; or, THE Fortunes or A Bowery Giru. By Albert W. Aiken, author of “‘ The Spotter Detective,” ete. 1 Gulliver's Travels. A Voyage to Lilliput, and a Voyage to Brobdingnag. The Dumb Spy. By Oll Coomes, author of ** Vagabond Joe,”’ etc. THE OCEAN BLOODHOUND.—No, 88, BEADLE’S HALF-DIME LIBRARY. Every one of them ‘“ Live” Stories by “Live®? Authors, Each number a Complete Novel, at the extraordinary price of a HALF-DIME. Aladdin; or, THe Wonprrrv. Lamp. 1 5 The Sea-Cat; or, Taz Wircu or Darien. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 16 Robinson Crusoe. His Life and Surprising Adventures, (27 illustrations.) 17 Ralph Roy, The Boy Bucca- neer; or, THE FuaeitivE Yacur. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 1 & Sindbad the Sailor. His seven voy- ages. From the Arabian Nights. 19 The Phantom Spy; or, THE Prot OF THE Prarrig. By Buffalo Bill, 20 The Double Daggers; or, Drap- woop Dick’s Dreriance. By Edward L. Wheeler, author of ‘‘ Deadwood Dick.’’ 2 Frontier Angel. A Romance of Kentucky Rangers’ Life. By Edward S. Ellis, author of ‘*Seth Jones,” ete. 222 The Sea Serpent; or, Tux Boy Rogrson Crusoe. By Col. Juan Lewis. 2 Nick o’ the Night: or, THz Boy Spy or ‘76. By T. C. Harbaugh. Diamond Dirk: or, THz Mystery OF THE YELLOWSTONE. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, author of “‘ The Flying Yankee,” etc. The Boy Captain: or, Tue Pirate’s y Roger Starbuck. 25 DAUGHTER. Y Se 17 ae BS) . AA j= 5 C : Sai iets a a Jy Wepre We Tire “es a: ROBINSON CRUSOE.—No. 16, 26 Cloven Hoof, the Demon. By Edward L. Wheeler Q7 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. By Oll Coomes, QR Buffalo Ben, the Prince of the Pistol: or. Dkapwoop DIcK IN Diseuisr. By Edward L. Wheeler 29 The Dumb Page; or, Toe Docr’s DaveutTrer. _By Capt. Frederick Whit- taker, author of ‘‘The Wild-Horse Hunters,” etc. 30 Roaring Ralph Rockwood, Tur RecKLEss RANGER, By Harry St. George. 31 Keen-Knife, THe PRINCE oF THE Prairies. By Oll Coomes. 32 Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian: or, Tae Girt Deap-SHor. By Edward L. Wheeler, author of “ Deadwood Dick,” etc., ete. 33 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, Tue ReD PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEES, By Samuel W. Pierce, author of “The Boy Detective,” ete., ete. 34 Oregon Sol; or, Nick Warrrtes’ Boy Spy. By Capt. J. F.C. Adams, Ready March 19th. 3 5 Wild Ivan, Tur Boy CLAupE Dvvat; or, Tat BrotHerHoop or Deatrx. Dead- wood Dick Romance No, 4, By Edward L. Wheeler. 36 The Boy Clown; or, THE QUEEN OF THE ARENA. By Frank 8. Finn. 37 The Hidden I. cdge; or, Taz LITTLE HUvnTER oF THE ApIRONDAcKS. By T. C. Harbaugh, author of “ Nic: 0’ the Night,” etc. 38 Ned Wylde, iuz Boy Scovrt. Texas Jack, By ANTELOPE ABE.—No. 27, 39 Death-Face, the Detective; or, LiFe AND LOVE IN New York. By Ed- word L. Wheeler. 40 Roving Ben. A story of a Young American who wanted to see the world. By John J. Marshall. 4i Lasso Jack, THE YouNG MusTANG- ER. By Ol] Coomes. Ready May 7th. 42 The Phantom Miner: or, Drap- woop Dick’s Bonanza. By Ed. L.Wheeler, author of ‘“* Deadwood Dick, etc. Ready 43 Dick geri, the Pony Express Rider. A Story of the Overland Trail. By Capt. F. Whittaker. Ready 44. Rattling Rube: or, Tux Nicut- HAWKS OF Kentucky. By Harry St. George. Ready May 28th, 45 Old Avalanche, the Great An- nihilator: or, THE Grru Banpir. By Edward L. Wheeler. Ready June 4th. 46 Glass Eye, the Great Shot ofthe West. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. Ready June 11th. A new issue every week. The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per copy or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. LADLE w ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York. WILD 1 AN.—No, 35,