Beadle's New York Dime Library (no. 1019) (1898 12)
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Copyricut, 1898, BY JAMES SULLIVAN. DECEMBER, 1898, N 1019 Published Every M. J. AVE ahi & CO., Publis 7 Cents a Copy. Vol LXXIX {JAMES SULLIVAN, PROPRIETOR), . 0. ; Month. pans Cw.00 a Year. ’ ‘ re 4 379 Pearl Street, New York.
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us y = otal __THE CAMP-FIRE iP-PIRE LIBRARY. | versal kindness by the whole nation, that the least Ican give | ’em at parting is a tear—an’ sure it come up from the very’ *life-spring of my heart.” “They bave been no kinder than a man of your talent and mind merited!” replied the captain ; and then as he glanced back among the other passengers, who stood farther aft, he asked, f “ Are you sure your friend, Lord Wimsett, is on board 2? “Tf he isn’t aboard he’s sure to be ashore, but I think Ned is down in his state-room just now, for he was in a rum state h when I saw him a bit ago !” 7 “A rum state! What do you mean, Mr. Tyrone?” 3 hi “ Why, his republican friends up at the Astor House wanted, him to lave the counthry properly impressed with the spirit of its citizens, and in a manner suited to his rank, so they made merrily, On the lakes, which are so plentiful around,and in As he waddied forward, a tall antiquated maiden clung to the borders of the town, skaters were chasing each other over his arm— one who, in appearance, was bis very opposite ' the glassy ice. Though dressed in winter garments, her cloak could not make i And who would not say that these seenes were beautifuly | ‘B® figure look anything but lean: her face peered out from & Nature, in all her seasons, has beauties which any one whois under the broad front of a velvet bonnet ;. a visage at once % ; possessed of a soul cannot fail to discover ; sharp, sour and savage—if we dare apply the latter term toa The time was years—but not many—ago. At noon, pre- | lady. Three brown curls, which looked as if they had beem cisely, a large and beautiful steamship, whose huge smoke- | frozen around a tallow candle, hung down on either side of oS stack had.been belching forth its black breath for several her cheeks, which were of a yellow hue in all parts, except Bia Z ‘hours, was seen to move slowly out of her place in a docks the very centre, where a spot of bright verwillion lay as wit- A i Wi on the East River side of New York. | ness that she patronized the fine arts. F Gay On her deck stood many passengers; a Hearty crew were That the reader may, at once know this most singular couple, y : busied in getting headway upon her, and preparing to make | we will introduce them. # bs sail on the heavy black yards which Crome her shor strong The Tady, Miss Priscilla Prime, was the only vont of the _ lag ¥ masts, gentleman, Mr. John Prime, Both had avoided matrimony ; High upon the wheel-house stood one who, from his tone of the first, according to her own account, because the men were ar wae command, as well as his uniform, seemed to be the commander all such vile deceivers ; the other, because had been too he eey | of the noble craft, and as the vessel drew out from the dock busy in making a fortune to ever think of looking at any ’ a : into the stream, he waved his laced cap to the crowd on shore, woman but his sister, who was not a specimen caleulated . , ae. ne ' who loudly cheered the outward-bound. make him love the sex over much, a P; Near him stood one of the passengers, a middle-sized, red- He had made a fortune in the provision” trade, and having, — 3 7 faced, blue-eyed, jolly-looking gentleman, who seemed to enjoy at the age of fifty, retired from business, he thought : x \_ the cheers of those on shore very much, for he waved a white _ ‘months’ “ ¢ower,” a8 Miss Priscilla termed it, to the Dalal ae het which he held in one hand, and flourished a stout crab-— States, was necessary, becanse it-was fashionable, ee ; stick or shillelab, which he held in the other, and responded | _From thie he was just returning. _ ” ox 4 _ to their cheers with a brogue that was beautifully rich. — “hese was & great differenes between him and ‘his sistent ot When the vessel had backed out into the stream and turned in all things except years, for strange as it would seem froma # her head fairly down toward Governor's Island, i beadihes their looks, they were twins. Their mother had died in : ww fired, three cheers were given by cher crew and passengers ing then to life, her husband g00n followed her to the grave, ; mn which were returned from the echoing shore, and then the _ leaving his children a small patrimony wherefrom to gain am ae | 2 noble vessel started alrend. = education, and which eventually started the son in busimess. ! . al 3a She really ‘looked like “a. thing of life,” as she ploughed ' The latter, at the time when we ‘introduce him to the ea’, 5 ~ her way down through the loose cakes of drifting iee, t pba reader, was a plain, hearty, good-natured Englishman, who p . a or is ‘yates ef 2 el alee as much loyed good living, both in eating and pee 33 felt Ree” ae main, and a private signal at her + hi ie oF | When she liad passed beyond the sound of me cheers from ee peak nothing, and yet did ‘not at all Ss : shoreward, and the commander had caused oo $0 De aie His sister, however, was Saeproad haughty, affected, and _ “ bad : to the breeze, which from the north-west | ot : and as wished ever to appear refined and delicate, though she was ee a he turned around ee CeO, Wee | coarser than porpoise meat, both in Manners and education, o a spoken above, a8 having 8 ; There were other passengers besides these, who pressed up "a look of astonishment eatme over the young comasaneiee | to hear what the witty Tyrone had to say, and tong them face as he looked on the face of the’ passenger, for he saw was & bandaome, dark-eyed woman, whose brunette cheek, i t » several tears stealing arin Se re ee cheeks, mich be jetty hair, Jong eyelashes, and delicately voluptuous form, — it ea : ee ae as tree? he a ar : nae from you who told bn Pat eee; clime for a birth place ; ; an ardent ee ij - , ME. Pe ent for ‘her WY. make so many laugh, and you homeward bound at that !” ae ag i ‘The passenger hastily dashed aside the tears with the sleeve . Scaplten Sed “Not ‘a nan 4 ota cae rye -8f his overcoat, and replied in a tone of deep feeling,— ) per cheek full, her eye. bright f noveT & tear immed _ “: SES ees S's | Leteen ee Seen or loud of area shadow owed eos
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told so plainly of her Spanish origin. towered above his, said,— ried !” Narrows.” better view can be obtained. strated the o:d man. tone, while he made a polite bow,— T’ll stay on deck with my dear!” _vinegarish tone,— the attentions of all the rest of the men.” to another clime and different pictures. ee ® —— eee, pe CHAPTER Il. THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. ‘ 3 x She, too, had a companion, o one who leaned on her arm, ine stead of she on his. He was a feeble, white-haired old man, yet he looked not like one related to her, for his eyes were of a dull grey, his features were entirely unlike her own, which One word from that old man, as he moved along with the rest, shewed his relationship to tbe beautiful young woman, With a dry and husky voice, that sounded more like a sup- pressed cough than anything eise, he uttered a feeble “ He! he! as he saw the comical look of Mr. Tyrone, and then look- ing up at the face of the lady, whose tall and beautiful figure ; “ What a funny man that Mr. Tyrone is, my dear. go glad he is a passenger—he'll make you laugh very much, my dear! You have laughed but little since we were mare Married! methinks I hear the reader exclaim ; the spring flower wedded to the snowdrift ; the hapless stump of a forest tree to the blossoming orange? And yet it was s0. young and beautiful woman, Donna Elementa, was wedded to the grey-haired, miserly-looking wretch that leaned upon her arm, and who, as if to suit his age, was actually named Frost. a. a When her husband made the remark we have chronicled HA Pe above, the young wife paid no attention to it, but mechani- Tre } 2 cally moved on in the direction in which he was leading her, ; while dier dark eyes were fixed on the distant shore. ad Wa The vessel was now swiftly gliding down th i. York, passing the white villas which so adorn Staten Island, | z and soon she was in that beautiful gorge known as “The From here the passengers gathered to take a last look at the “ Empire City ;” and, perhaps, there is no point where a The eyes of the Spanish lady beamed brighter as she looked at the distant spires and domes, gilded by a bright sun, and BY when her old husband signified his wish to go below, out of By the cold, she quietly but firmly expressed her desire to remaip ie on deck, yi 3 “ But it is cold—you’ll catch your death, my dear! remom ¥ “TI do not feel cold, sir)’ was her answer; “if you do, ga 9 Sar below ; I will come down when I get ready.” SE. ~ The old gentleman was about to reply, when Mr Tyrone, 4 who had heard her remark, stepped up and said, in his usual “By your lave, sir, I'll see that no harm falls to the lady, if you wish to lave her on deck. It’s myself that’ll be as care ful of her as ¢’er an ould hen was of a pet chicken !” “He! he! You're so funny, Mr. Tyrone,” muttered the old man, “you're very good and so funny; but I’m not cold now The lady glanced at Tyrone and then at her husband. Ob, how much meaning was there in that single look. It told plainly that her heart was filled with disgust instead of love for him who clung to her ; and she seemed even grate- ful that the other had offered, for a moment, to take the place of a companion whom she evidently abhorred. The look did not escape the eye of Miss Priscilla. With a shrug of the shoulder, and an adtislonpl turn of her turn- up nose, she squeezed her brother's arm, ao said in a low “Some people are so stuck up when fiey get married ! They’re never satisfied with their meer’ bums, but want The brother paid“no attention to his sister’s remark, for he was so used to the acidity of her nature, that he had ceased, long since, to take up either with her likes or dislikes, , But if the reader please, having introduced some of the characters of our story, we will change the scene, and proceed THE ISLAND ‘HOME. r ‘Pron aaa ey agua island whe ay 0 thenar rew chaswae} Detwoen Greenland and the point of land whieh forms the northern shore of Hudson’s Straits, is laid our next cane. ' T}:¢ island lay close over to the North American shore, from which it was separated only by a broad sheet of ice. Yet it looked very unlike the dull, monotonous level of the main land in sight. In its centre a hill arose, which was overtop- ped by tall pines whose ever-green branches spread our like living arms to the wild north wind, and shook with its hoarse - breathings. Below this hill was a level plain of an acre’s size, probae bly, facing the main, and this plain terminated nearly on @ level with the icy bridge which connected it and the shore. Om all other sides the island fronted with immense cliffs which, spotted here and there with fantastic formations of ice, made a most picturesque appearance. From amid the gloomy, everlasting pines, whence could be obtained the most extended view, the eye could see far away to the south and east, a channel of blue water, dotted here and there with glittering bergs of ice, and as the sun shone out, these looked like heaps of frozen rainbows stowed away there by the clerk of the weather for summer use in fairer and southern climes. Shoreward, when the weather was clear, for it was but threa miles distant from the main, could be seen a long range of low hills , their tops crested with small stunted pines and laurels: and often on the plain beneath could be seen small droves of musk oxen-and reindeer ;' both ugly. but extremely useful animals in that cold and barren clime. This island wag not uninhabited. Deep in the side of the Lili which we have partially described, was a large cave, one formed, in part. by the hand of ever-working nature, but fin- ished by th. tasteful yet scarcely jess capricious hand of man. It was a singular-looking cave for it was dug out of a rock of solid anvhrac te coal, of which this Uill, like many in that sterile clime, was formed, Thus has Providence, in His ali-wise beneficence, provided, that scantily-wooded land, a never-failing stock of fuel. In this cave were manyyapartments fitted up as store-rooms, and still others had been furnished and decorated in the rich- est style, and in these dwelt him whose name heads this story —he who was called by the ignorant and superstitious Indi+ ans of the Main, WALKALLAH, Tue Icr-Kine The time to say who and what he was, and of whom and how many were his household will soon come. The hewed-out residence in the rock was not the only dwelling of this strange being, for his name had been given him by the Indians, from a large house or palace of ice he had caused to be raised i in the plain in front of the. hill, and where only he received such of their chiefs as he occasionally permittéd to visit him. He was a singular and a very haughty man, His age, judge ing from his snow-white hair, which he wore very Jong, and from the furrows on his pale brow, would seem to be, at least, sixty, but there was a freshness in the rosy hue of his cheeks, and a light in his clear blue eye, which made it sien to judge of®his age. His figure, which was tall and commanding, ari’, firm, and well knitted together, and his entire manner was ‘most noble and kingly. At the hour when we choose to introduce this singular character to our readers, he sat alone in a room within bis hill-side dweMing. - The apartment was lighted by a single lamp hung from a branch of glittering coal, which had been formed in the curi- ously carved upper ceiling. The room was literally covered with book shelves on all sides but one, and on this side several — “paintings were hung. | One of them was a likeness which, though taken when he was younger, could not be mistaken in its resemblance to him who was seated before it. _ By the side of this portrait was) another, that of a lady, — whose age might not be more than a year or two less than © that * the , aration, ‘bat one whose in, soem mains SE ad aa TEC aoa er ee i
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4 tery beautiful, was expressive of a cold and haughty disposi- top 7. sf features coulc be judged, ot even a worse character. + Her eyes unlike his were jetty black : her features aquiline, but regular as a Grecian eculptor could desire. Yet there was a tacering curl in her proud lip—an expansion of nos- tril, and a down-drawing of the brow that no one could look at witL preasure. The gentleman sat Ly a round table in the centre of the foom, with his feet placed upon the fender of a small stove of turniskeo copper the pipe of which led directly up through the roof cf the room In his hand he keid a book, but his eye was not upon it, for he gazed up at the portrait of the female we have just described As he gazed with a cold and dreamy look he spoke in boliloquy — “Why do I love thee yet, thou beautiful siren? Why do f yet cling to the remembrance of her who has been the cause of al! my miseries ; who has forced me to exile myself from the world * Flushes of feeling came and went on that old man’s cheek as he spoke. and a tear at one moment came out in his full, tright eye, bu’ then it went back again, or dried on the eye- lid, for “t d.d not steal down upon his cheek, While he yet gazed at that strange portrait, a door opened —a concealed panel, which was covered by a painting beneath the two just mentioned and a young female entered, whose beauty contrasted strangely with that of the lady in the pic- ture. She was young looking—not over eighteen or nineteen years of age—and though a similarity of feature chuld be traced bee tween her ard the lady's portrait. not one shade of similarity could b* found in her es pression The eyes of the young girl were of a deep blue; her hair of a dark and glossy brown. Her arching eyebrows, and the long lashes that shaded her sofi, expressive eyes, were stili darker, form.ng a strong contrast to the snowy whiteness of her broad, inteJectual forehead, and the rose-leaf hue of her spotless cheeks. ; She smiled as she entered, and that smile disclosed 9 get of reguiar, pearly teeth, that shone all the brighter for the rue dient Hps that unclosed to exhibit them. z Her figure was tall; and judging from the fully rounded bust, tapering waist, broad hips,and the small feet encased in neat-fitting fur-topped gaiters, it was perfectly formed. Her dress, which was of scarlet velvet, trimmed with the fur of the white fox, was quite short in the skirts, and exposed a perfect ancle and the lower part of her large and finely shaped leg; yet not one look or action of hers seemed immodest. Her hands were snowy white—small in proportion with her foot. She wore three rings, two of them plain, one of these being pure and massive gold, such as is used generally for the marriage bond ; yet she wore that unmistakable maiden look which ever distinguishes those who are not wedded. The third ring was yet more singular. It was of a heavy make, of finely chased gold, with a seal shaped like a heart, and a rich garnet set in its centre, Her graceful shoulders would have been bare, had it not been for the flood of golden curls that hung down her neck and upon her back, for her dress was low in the neck. Her costume, indeed, was well calculated to display her great and singular beauty, and she seemed to wear it with an air at once so natural and artless, that she seemed made for it, rather than it for her. Though her features were not unlike those of the lady in the portrait, the color of her eyes and hair, as well as of her ekin, differed from it entirely. The eyes of the gentleman fel) from the picture on the walt to the living picture, as he beard the light step, and his eye brightened as she bounded forward, and throwing her arms - around his neck, cried in deep, rich tones, “Father, dear father, forgive me for disturbing you, but ] was so lonely in my chamber !” The father returned the young girl’s fond caress, and while he brushed back the dark brown curls from her fair cheek be gently said, “It matters not, ny Annie ; I was not reading.” THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. “No, dear father,” replied the girl, “I know that you were musing on the sad past, which you have so often promised me to try to forget.” “Ah, child! it is as hard to blot the memory of the past from the heart as it is to know the future, Both are impose sible.” ‘ The daughter seemed to feel that this was an unanswerable truth, for she paused ere she replied, and then it was only to change the subject. “Tt is some days since the chief Ossiniwa was here ?” she asked. Yes,” replied the father, “he seemed ill pleased with his reception upon his last visit.” “Why, dear futher? You have ever treated him courte ously.” “ Yes, child, save when he broached one subject—his love for you, and then, you well know my stern temper could not brook such presumption.” “He is far more noble than that snake-eyed, hateful chief, Co-atchee.” “True, child ; but none of them are a match for thee. Thou wouldst scorn them, if for one moment thou hadst seen the gallant cavaliers of thy native land.” The young girl sighed and murmured, “T cannot remember them, but if they are like those whom I see in your pictures, and England bas bright and sunny spots like those I see in your landscapes, both must be beauti+ ful.” “They are, child, but all is not good that is beautiful. You were very young when I left the Jand where I saw so little of joy,so much of misery,” “Yes, dear father ; for I cannot remember anything—not even the looks or voice of my mother.” As she thus spoke, a flush, which might indicate either pain or anger, flitted across her father’s face, and in an impatient tone, he said, “ Annie, why do you speak of her? Have I not forbidden thee ever to name her in my/presence ?” “Yes, father ; but I forgot, and spoke very thoughtlessly. Do not scold me, dear father ?” As the fair young girl spoke, she pressed her lips to his pale brow, and kissed him tenderly. Her fond caresses seemed to soothe him, for in a moment he said ; “qt matters not now, dear child, but always remember that when you speak of her you awaken very dark memories in your father’s hear.—thoughts that he would fain bury for ever,” “I witl try not to awaken them, dear father, but there is one cuestion whict. has often filled my heart and arose to my ps, yet ( dared not ask it.” ” What is it, child ?” ‘2 had a brother—was he like to me, my father ?” ‘Ve brew of the old man grew dark again; in a tone deep and husky from suppressed excitement he replied, “ Like to thee, Annie? No,ohno! Had he been he would not have turned from me and sided with the proud, vile woman, who drove me t> the very vérge of madness.” “ What is his age?” “ He is seven years thy senior, child, and—but no, I will not speak of him. Get thy guitar child, and sing to me one of thine own simple melodies.” A tear-drop was in the young girl’s eyebut she did not re- spon fies . A deat ake 23) Pi 1k On. Fee Ree ord? 43 eee = _ Pa 5 “a2s Merge
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; q 4 i pre Because my smile is eine ; For the warm sunlight lieth Glistening on the pall, And forth the lightning flieth The darkest cloud of all. I. Think not I’m gleeful ever, That I am never sad ; At times my heartestrings quiver, As they were never glad, And oft my brow is clouded, And hushed my merry strain ; And ev’ry hope seems sirouded To never rise again. Ti. Then do not deem me thoughiless Because I heave the sigh ¢ Which from my heart comes rushing, Like the winds from out the sky ; Grief is a lonely feeling, Smiles but oft conceal it ; The stranger tear, down stealing, On a smile reveals it. = There was a tear in the father’s eye when the young girl ceased the plaintive air, which she had accompanied with her guitar. “More truth than poetry, child 1” said he. “The deepest grief is ever that which is most silent, A smiling face may shine above a broken heart, even as a sun-gilded ocean may glitter above a shattered wreck.” CHAPTER IIL THE OCEAN WAVE, For want of a better name, we will call the steamship which was outward-bound in our first chapter, the —— Our next scene is laid in her grand saloon, the time, her third day out ; af hour, that which succeeded the one de- voted to the duties cf the supper table. The steamer had, so far experienced fine weather, and under a press of both steam and canvass, was making her go twelve or thirteen knots per hour on an ENE course, or perchance, & little easterly of that, and her young commander and his officers were all in very high spirits. So were some of the passengers—that portion, we mean, who had recovered from sea-sick ness. We will now take a glance at some of these, and see how people manage sometimes to slay ancient time, or in more vulgar phraseology, to kill the monotonous hours of a sea voyage, It was the watch of the first officer, and Captain Frank Lonsdale, the commander of the steamer, was seated in the midst of « jolly-circle, who were enjoying some real Monon- gahela punch which had been brewed by our jovial friend, Mr. Tyrone. Mr. Prime was there also, enjoying it, and even Mr. Frost was sipping a glass, warming his toothless gums and pulse- Jess heart therewith. At the moment we slip in alongside these worthies, Mr. Tyrone had been caliei upon for a song, and after wetting his tune pipe with a second glass of the punch, “ broke out” in a rich and very melodious voice, with a song written, we bee lieve, by a popular American poet , ers said canzonet being catitled, ‘ THE SON OF OULD ERIN UPON CANAL.” “He! he! What a funny man he is,” coughed Mr. Frost to his nearest neiglibor, Mr. Prime, as Tyrone finished his song amid the applause of all in the saloon. _ “ Aye, a jolly, rum cove he is!” replied Mr. Prime. Mr. Tyrone did not hear these complimentary remarks, for PaIG a he was, at the moment, addressing himself to a tall, sad-look- 26. bat. ay, asides vient man, who had heard his song THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. : . “Matter! the: whole w without a smile, and whose mind seemed to be absent from the circle where he sat. “My lord Ned,” he cried, “ what is the matter wid ye this bright evening. Yeseem to have the mallygrubs, or some other sentimental disase.” A sickly smile flitted over the face of the young man, and his dark eyes lighted up for a moment with singular bril- liancy, while he replied, “‘T was only a little absent-minded, my dear fellow. Don’t think that I neglect or fail to appreciate your talent or hu- mor, but you know one’s thoughts will wander to the past once in a while, in spite of all your efforts to curb them,” “Yer,” replied the other, and then putting on a serio-comic face he sung a single stave, “ All around my hat I vears a green viller, I vears it for a twelve-month and a day: And if any body axes me the reason vy I vears it I tells them that my true love is far, far avay.” “That's what’s the matter with ye, 1 belave, my lord!” said he, as Le closed the stave. “Oh no, my dear fellow, nothing of the kind, I assure you.” “ Well, if ye won’t acknowledge the soft impachement, ye’ll not object to do me a another favor ?” “ What is it ?” asked the young lord. “Only jist to permit me to fill up yer glass with another Jadlefull of this spiritual broth.” “Oh, certainly !" replied the young nobleman, eamiling at the earnestness. of the request and adding, as he held ‘the full glass in his hand, “T’ll give you a toast to wash down.” “ Well, sir, out with it, as the divil said to the dintist when he had the toothache!” replied Tyrone, at the same time fill-” ing his own glass. The young lord instantly: gave, “‘Tere’s to Mrs. Tyrone and the little Tyrones—may their shadows never grow less.” “ Och, and it’s myself will drink that same, and by the powers ! Ill give a toast too,” replied Mr. Tyrone. Then as soon as he could reguin his breath after swallowing his bot punch, he added, refilling the glasses all around, * Heres to your lordship: may you live for ever, and when ye die may the Lord above take a liking to ye.” “He he! what a funny man,” coughed Mr. Frost * Ho! Lo! ha! hai what a rum cove he is,” cried Mr. Prime, his fot sides shaking with laughter, as if he was made of calves-foot jelly, or some other springy substance. “ How is the governess — her ladyship, I mean — this eve- ning?’ asked Tyrone of the young lord, a8 soon as the laugh- ter that had followed his toast subsided. “ She is very unwell. Her trip to America has rather injured than impreved her health, She will keep her stateroom all the voyage, I fear” ; The Irishman was about to make some reply, when a very pale, wrinkled face, surmounted by a frilled and rumpled night- cap was stuck out from the half-opened door of a stateroom hearly opposite to the party, and a very dry and cracked voice came from that direction, saying, _ “ Brother John !” As it was very low, no one seemed to hear it, but in a mo- ment more it became louder and sharper: N“ John !—you John !” Mr. Prime knew tliat he was called, but he hated to leave — his punch so he pretended uot to hear the voice of the ane cient maiden. ‘ With a cry which would have done honor as a sopranon : a concert of screech-ow!ls, the virgin shrieked, vs You John Prime, don’t you hear me a callin’ you? ‘There ‘ you are’a swillin’ grog, and leaving a poor gal Sear a ce ‘all the torters of solitood by herself!” - “One of the old time gals, sure,” muttered Mr. Myre, a he listened to this uncalled for tirade — ‘ Mr. John Prime, however feeling that “he was sant wae : at once arose and waddled off to the stateroom —_ wine he . meekly inquired — viet 2 : “What's the matter Priseilla Re # "ie orld 1 m va bea aeons
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6 _John, and you i wouldn's care as long as you had a glass of grog toswig. I'm sick—very sick—I wish I was dead !” I wish so too, silently thought Mr. Prime, but he dared not say 80; he only replied in a quiet tone, “Tf there’s anything that I can get for you, sister, ’ll do it—but if you don’t want anything, just say so, and turn in and go to sleep.” “ Bleep!” exried the old maid, in a louder key ; “jist as ifa body could sleep when you and your wulgar ’sociates are a ha-haing and a he-heing, and a singin’ horrid songs.” This last expression fell upon the ear of Mr. Tyrone, who said, in a low tone, to lord Wimsett, « Be jabers, but the ould gal is gettin’ rather personal, as the thafe said when the judge was doomin’ him to be hanged.” The remark of Mr. Tyrone was made in a very low tone, but as it happened to be delivered in a momentary lull of the conversation, or rather, temper-storm, it fell upon the ear of Miss Priscilla who, darting a look of anger at Tyrone, eried, * Old/ you Irish blackguard! I old! Brother John, if you'll stand that you’re no man—go and mill him, or I’l] never speak to you as long as I live.” ‘ Then blow me! if I don’t Jet him alone. I’d take a good millin to have it warranted that you shouldn’t speak to me again !" replied the brother, now completely put out of patience by the conduct of his sister. Mr Tyrone did not like the appellation of blackguard over much, for he immediately replied, “Yer sex protects ye in what ye say, ye ould she owl.” This last sobriquet was too much for the lady to bear, and _ springing out into the cabin with no garment on but her night robes, she darted toward/Tyrone, screaming, “ An owl,am I? I'll scrach your eyes out, you wile slan- derer of wirtue and innocence.” But the enraged tigress had not the luck or misfortune to reach him, for she sprang right against her portly brother, who fell to the deck with the concussion. She, too, fell, but it was on topof him. He clasped her in fis arms, where she lay bellowing murder, until the captain aroge and lifted her kindly but firmly on her feet and bade her retire to her stateroom. Upon this she burst into a flood of tears and in hysterical sobs told the captain that she had a great mind to put on ber bonnet and to go right ashore: forgetting, of course, that ahe was between five and six hundred miles from the land. But she knew from the manner of the commander that she must now be quiet. and pouting and sobbing, she backed into her room, slamming the door behind her with a violence that phook the whole bulkhead Her brother picked himself up, and returning to the table he had left, reached out his glass to Mr. Tyrone, to have it re-filled. “You are desarvin’ of it. sure!” said the latter gentleman, as he filled up a bumper for Mr Prime, “I wouldn't have a battle with the crater for ten of ’em, if I was as dry aa Jou when he swallowed the whale!” Es CHAPTER IV. THE CAMP. Jost back of the low range of hills which could be sewn op the main land from the crest of the hill on the Walkuilah’s island was a thick grove of those tall but grand and gioomy pines which are peculiar to the Northern regions. From amid these, little pillars of curling smoke SEE; be- tokening the dwelling thereabouts, of men Though the tops of these trees were covered with snow, and their long branches bent almost to the ground with the weight thereof, there was a majestic beauty in their appear- ance which we can but faintly describe. and which | must be mainly left to the imagination of the reader. One who has dwelt amid the fragrant blossoms and bril- _ se iant scenes «f the far South, could not: but be struck el pe E iorarr shige a = — £ THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. ‘the Young Moon no light The War Eagle did not e eis ee eye: we mt ; Pa —— In all directions, save this group of pines, the eye looked over a vast plain of glittering snow, spotted here and there, it is true. by a dwarfish bush or some moving animal ; but mainly even and monotonous The sheet of snow which covered the tops of the trees and the upper sides of their branches made the dark green beneath look all the brighter for the strong contrast ; and some of the pines that stood out singly on the borders of the grove, looked like tall sentinels with white watch-coats upon their un- couth forms. But inside of this grove was another and a far different pice ture. In an amphitheatre formed by clearing off all the under- brush and lopping off the lower branches of the trees, was an encampment of about twenty Indian tents. These tents were circular, and composed of prepared musk- ox hides, sewed together with the hair inward, and stretched upon a frame of sJender poles, The snow had been carefully scraped away from about these tents, and before each was a small fire that caused the smoke we have already noted. Before some of these fires women were engaged in cooking, and children played about among the tents, filling the grove with the écho of their shrill voices. This was the encampment of Oxsiniwa,a chief whose tribe had once been powerful, when they dwelt down on the big jakes, Lut who now numbered only q warrior for every tent in that smallcamp. ‘ The central tent was larger than any of the others, and on its peak was fastened one of the large golden crested eagles, as a symbol that there dwelt Ossiniwa, or the War Eagle. Within the tent, on a pile of furs covered by the sk-n of a white bear, which he had slain with his own hand, reclined the chief, Ossiniwa. He was a beautiful specimen of the aborigine of North Amer- —— ica. Tall, straight as his own lance, well formed, with an eye’ as black as night, end bright as if each pupil was a glittering diamond ; his hair dark as the centre of a thunder cloud, and hanging down in a thick mass upon his broad shoulders, ins stead of being shaved in all save the scalp-lock, as is cus tomary with the Indians, Ossiniwa could well be called hand- some. His features were regular—of that peculiar cast which ever distinguishes the Indian from the white, and his expression was proud and haughty, without being displeasing. His color was not very dark, being of the same copperish hue of the Moors ; Close by the feet of the warrior sat a female. She, too, had many claims to beauty, Her features were even more classic, though not so massive as his; her eyes were quite as dark, but softer in expression, and shaded by long lashes that drooped down upon her soft cheek, the skin of which looked like the sun-burned rind of a pomegranate, with the juicy veins almost bursting through its clear transparency. Her delicate eyebrows were arched like the young moon, and her form seemed to be exceedingly well proportioned, judging from the two never-failing criterions, a beautiful foot and hand, a ' _ Her hair was braided in several large plaits, and so arranged. upon her head as to form a kind of coronet a queen might well envy, so thick, dark, silky and luxuriant was its growth. A single small branch of the green pine was twisted into this coronet, being fitted to contrast with the very pale brow that it overhung. She was dressed, as was also the warrior, @ entirely in furs. She wore no ornament except 8 little silver half-moon, sus- pended from her neck, ; She was engaged in working a moccasin with stained threads, but when a deep sigh was heard from the warrior’s lips, she a looked up, and in a low, meek tone, with a voice musical ‘sa that of the ring dove wooing its mate, said, “Why is the War Eagle sad? Why is his eye ‘covered with a cloud? Has Lal ’s voice no charms for him? | to shine upon his brave apirit et
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ee line aE Rede Sey ei . y LE 8 ae ‘ ~- * “ B. ¥ 4 - 8 ‘THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. | 7 dent toward hcr; he did not seem to be aware of her presence, She noted this, and a sigh quite,as deep, but more soft than that he had breathed came from her lips. “The War Eagle is angry with Lula. His face is hid from her, yet she has been fond and true to his lodge!” murmured she. “Lula has walked many a weary journey in his foot- steps—shie has builded his fires for many moons, Lula has borne a boy for him, who shall be a great warrior.” As the young woman made this remark she raised a cover- ing of fur that lay before her, and took from beneath ita sleep- ing infant. The babe was like a bud of herself, just bursting into beauty, and in its swathing blanket of snowy ermine fur looked like a picture. The mother raised the babe and kissed it so fervently that it awoke. Its large dark eyes first opened on her with a dreamy look, but in a moment the light of recognition and affection brightened them, and the little duplicate stretched out its arms to her. But she turned its face toward the father, and more bright glowed the infant’s eyes, and it crowed gleefully, With trembling interest the young mother watched the warrior’s face, to see if this appeal to his feelings would pass unnotic d, and as he arose from his couch and passed out of the door of the lodge without speaking, and scarcely looking at her or the babe, she drew the young thing closer to her bosom, and gave vent to a low moan which seemed to come from beneath her very héart, : The child looked up inquiringly into its mother’s face, which was now bent over it, and as two great bright tears came and rolled stilly down her dark cheeks, the babe raised its tiny hand, and in trying to catch them, wiped them away, Instinct seemed to teach the little thing of its mother’s trou- bles, for it nestled closer to her bosom, and clasped its chubby arms around her neck, as if to offer consolation. When Ossiniwa strode forth from his lodge, his brow was dark and his eve clouded, expressive of the trouble within _ his breast. He passed out to the fire which dimly burned before his tent, and as he kicked some of the half-burned chunks, he muttered, “ Why did the War Eagle ever go to see the flower of the Walkallah? His bow has become weak—his arrows have lost their points, Ossinawa is like a woman.” He paused, for through, between the trunks, of the snow- laden pines, 8 young warrior came bounding along with the speed of a deer. His only weapons were a bow and a quiver of arrows at his back, and a lance, about ten feet long, tipped with bright steel, in his hand. As he came near to Ossiniwa, the latter asked, “ Well, what has the ‘Fox’ seen? Has he been to the lodges of the Co-atchee ?” “He has. The Snake is awake. He will give presents io the Walkallal when the sun is half through its journey to- morrow.” ; The brow of the War Eagle grew darker still when he heard this. y “How many warriors?” he asked. The Indian replied by handing the chief a large bundle of ema)! sticks which he took from under his fur blanket. There were, at the least, several hundred. _ Ossiniwa took them and without speaking, carefully counted ‘every one. A sad look was on his face for a moment, and he said, _ “Once my tribe were like the leaves of the pine in number, like the trunk of the oak in strength, like droves of wild moose in their anger—now they are here !” _ And he looked.around at his encampment. Then he took the handful of sticks, and with a gesture of scorn cast them into the fire, muttering as he did, “ So may the warriors of Co-atchee perish, if he dares to hunt upon the same path with the War Eagle !” _ Then he stood and gazed thoughtfully on them till the last -avas consumed, when placing his hand to his lips he uttered a shrill, prolonged yell, which echoed through the camp like _ the scream of some terrible beast, ) — =—= Within a minute a warrior was seen to spring from every lodge, each bearing his bow, arrows and lance in his hand, In a moment they gathered around their leader, not one of them speaking, but all awaiting his orders. They were all warriors, men whose ages seemed to vary from twenty to fifty years. The War Eagle uttered another cry, one lower and longer, - and then seven old white-haired men came out from different tents and approached the chief. At the same time all the children quietly went within the lodges, and the women who had been busy about the fires, left them, and followed the children. As the old jen came near, the warriors, who had formed a large circle around their chief, opened a passage for them, and then, as they entered, the circle closed. he War Eagle looked around, then took a pipe from his girdle, filled it from a pouch that hung at his belt, lighted it at the fire, then handed it to the nearest old man, who took a whiff and passed it to his nearest neighbor. When each of the old men had drawn a puff from the pipe, Ossiniwa took one himself, and handing it to the Fox, it passed around in succession to every warrior present. During all this time not a word had been uttered. When the pipe was returned, Ossiniwa knocked out its ashes into the fire and replaced it in his girdle. He then looked at the old men and spoke, “My fathers! your chief has called you to counsel with him, for you are old and wise. The War Eagle has but one wife, and his lodge is large!" _ The old men gave a nod of assent, and uttered the word, “ Ugh !” in token that they heard him. He went on, | “ There is a great chief, who is very rich, who has guns and powder—Walkailah !” “ Ugh !” responded the old men. -“ Tf Walkallah becomes War Eagle's friend, he will give us guns and powder so that we van fight and kill our enemies.” “ Ugh?” answered the old men. f “ Walkaliah has a girl—the pale flower. War Eagle's lodge is large.” ; a Ugh?’ . “ Ossiniwa will take presents to the Walkallah when the sun awakes the snow-birds in the morning.” \ “ Ugh!” responded the old men, who by their looks seem to coincide with his simple but forcible reasoning. “The War Eagle is poor. He wants many furs, for the Walkallah must have a rich present to make friends.” The old men said not “ugh!” this time. They paused, conferred in a low tone a moment, and then the eldest of them turned to the small circle of warriors and opened his harangue. “You are young and strong—we are old and weak, but the Great Spirit gives wisdom when he takes away/strength. You have furs now—when you get guns you can get Many more. The War Eagle wants rich presents. The old man has spoken.” When the aged warrior ceased, all of the young men turned away to their lodges, whence they soon returned, each one bringing packs of rich furs, which they laid, without speaking, before the lodge of, Ossiniwa. The old men looked on until the last warrior had laid down his bundle, when the one who had spoken before turned to War Eagle, and said, ; é “The Walkallah will have his present—the Great Spirit smiles upon thee.” i The old men then returned to their lodges, and Ossiniwa, after thanking bis warriors for their aid, bade them prepare their best dresses and be ready to go with him to the islahd — of the Walkallah before the morning’s sun should rise.” . 2 _ CHAPTER V. THE HATCHET OF WAR. Tire morning had just dawned, and the Walkallsh, acoording nets r Ps are : ee 5 ore nr, - an ae tae as eet
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to his usual custom, had stjesiy risen from his couch. One : of his old and faithful servants came to inform him that a small body of warriors, with their chief, War Eagle, had ar- rived from the main, bearing presents, and that they begged to have a talk with him. Having ever treated the natives with much kindness, and being in the habit of trading with them for fresh provisions, and other necessities, the Walkallah sent the War Eagle word that he would soon meet him in the Ice-palace. Arming himself with a long-barrelled rifle, a brace of richly mounted pistols, and dressing himself in a showy kind of uni+ form, that added to the kingliness of his appearance, the old gentleman soon followed his servant to the ice palace, where, in the large, circular reception room, hisstrange visitors wait- ed for him. The bright sunlight glittered on the oufside of this singulgs building, and cast thousands of rainbow-hued rays through the nearly transparent walls, which looked as if they had been * hewn out of one vast brillant, of a single mountain diamond. When the Walkallah entered the apartment, Ossiniwa ad- vanced and pointing to the row of rich packets of furs which had been laid upon the floor, said in very good English, “ The War Eagle has come to see bis white father, and has brought him furs to keep him and the Lily of the North warm.” eee “ The War Eagle is very kind,” replied the old man. ‘‘ His a present is good ; the Walkallah accepts it, and will smoke the pipe of friendship with him.” Giving an order to one of his attendants, pipes were brought in and one given to the chief and each of his men. y “Afterthey were lighted, the chief exchanged pipes with he Walkallah, and they smoked for some time in silence. During this time the Ice King noticed that the dark eyes of Ossiniwa were often turned toward the elegant rifle he carried, and he knew that the chief had but two—old and nearly useless weapons, in his tribe, He took from ‘his- own z shoulder the well filled powderhorn and ammunition pouch, i and hanging it over the neck of the War Eagle, handed him the beautiful rifle, and said,— “You are a good hunter—you can ki many deer ‘and 340080 with this.” The Indian’s dark eyes glistened with pleasure as he received the gift, and he said,— “Tf the Walkallah has enemies, War Eagle will slay them ~ ho had rather kill men than red deer; he had rather strike his foe, than the musk ox!’ 3 . “hope I have no enemies. kind to all!” said the old man. “The Great Spirit has spoken to the Walkallah and made him good!” said the fadisn. “ We fear the Great Spirit, and love them He smiles upon.” The Indian now smoked on for some time without speaking, and the old man saw from his manner that he had evidently some object for his visit, which waa not Bhi introd uced. He therefore asked, “Ys there anything more that I can do for my red brother.” = “The lodge of the War Eayle is large ‘and warm,” said —-- Ossiniwa; “it is where the great pines spread their arms to shelter him from the cold winds and heavy snows. The lodge ia he aud warm, The War Eazle is the son of a great King, his tribe is small—but it once was large. The War _ Eagle has bat one wife and she is lonesome.” oe “The Ice-King now saw the drift’ of the warriors speech, : bat he said nothing. The Indian continued— = =__ nee ‘The ‘Pale Lily of the North athe star of the Walkallah’s lodge, would make the War Eagle's dark lodge very bright. The War Eagle would bunt for her ; she should sleep on the ite fox, and eat the marrow of the. reindeer.” a he Indian paused, as if to grt fe. ‘Walksllab time to ok, and then went on Phe hunters of the War Engl will y furs. The; Il keep his I war not with any—I am ' the W alkallah THE CAMP-FIRE 5 LIBRARY. The latter in a kind, bat firm tone, replied, — “T have heard the words of my red brother. In the land where I came from, men nevér have but one wife.” “Ugh!” said the Indian in surprise. “With us it is a law handed down by the Great Spirit, not to give one man more than one wife.” “Ugh !” exclaimed Ossiniwa. “My red brother has heard my words. now. . . “T will give her away to one of my warriors!” said, Ossiniwa. “ No—that would be wrong,” said the Walkallah. He was about to continue when a servant hastily entered, and informed him that alarze hedy of Indians were approachs. ing. _ Ossiniwa hurried to the entrance of the ice palace, and his. dark brow grew darker still when he saw it was a party headed, by his enemy and rival, Co-atchee, tiie Snake. The tribe of the latter was larger and richer than his, and: he, judging the white man from Indian nature, much feared that the wealth and power of his rival would operate unfavors. ably to his suit. Grasping his rifle firmly and grinding his teeth with very- yexation and anger, he returned into the ice palace, and gathering his warriors close together by the heap of presents. which they had brought, he leaned upon his new rifle, and haughtly awaited the appearance of the others. The Walkallah gave a low order to one of his servants, who. instantly left to ob-y it, and then, also folding his arms calm-. ly, awaited the new arrival. ; In a few moments the Snake entered. He was an ilj-looking scoundrel. He was low in stature, badly shaped, yet very strongly made; his face was a perfect: map of his character—cunning and cruelty seemed to be his. prominent cliaracteristics, to judge from his features. His eyes were small and yery brillant looking indeed, like snake eyes. But he was dressed far more richly than Ossiuiwa. Bands of silver encompassed his arms ard legs, al plume of red feathers drooped from his coronet of glittering. ish seal s, ~7hich was most curiously wrought. Each of his train of one hundred warriors, bore a pack of rich furs, and as they came in in single file, they laid them. down before the Walkallah. © . Co-atchee could not speak English, but he was accompanied by an interpreter, kind of mongrel or half-breed Indian, who had found his way to his tribe, from the confines of Can- ada, where he had mixed with the whites, and learned their language, When Co-atchee entered he glanced fiercely at the War- He has one wife Eagle, and at his small ‘band of warriors, and then looked dis- — dainfully at the small heap of furs which contrasted so nee with his larger presents, But his eye flashed when he saw the new rifle upon which the War Engle leaned, and scornfully glanced at him the- while, for Co-atchee had not a single gun in 2 all his tribe— not eve! one for himself. But he had brought rich presents too, and “et course ex- pected a present like that which War Eagles 50 ‘proudly dis-- played But the Walk ‘Nah had always borne a dislike to the Snake, and too well knew his treacherous and crnel character, ‘to trust. him with such dangerous and powerful weapons, and there-- fore, alter the interpreter had, with a long harangue, presented. Cine ‘him with the furs of Co-atchee, he simply returned his thanks. and gave that chief some tobacco and a . piece . red =o to. oa make a robe with. bg The Indi .n evinced his disappointment by his kara Se glanced at the rifle of the other chief, but he-was too fas to. say anything which would exhibit 1 his feelings, ‘and at o' bade his aren ‘open ‘the? ‘Teagone for his fiat ad x en ee
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a anit , ae ae eo aed Br Sena in 4 4 es San 2} ee Ons a j ea =o oe m « Shera and blow them away. ‘The Snake has many squaws, ‘yat none go fair as the child of the Walkallah, «The Snake has looked upon the pale Lily of the North and he wants her fora wife. His hunters will feed her and make her a bed of the inner fur of the martin and the white fox. The Snake has spoken.” The Walkallah had listened to the entire harangue without speaking, and he now replied,— “JT have heard the words of my red brother, through the lips of his orator._ I thank him for his presents, but I cannot give him my child, She is the light of my lodge—it would be dark to me if she were gone !|” The interpreter immediately proceeded to render his lan- guage intelligible to the Walkallab. «“ The Snake,” said he, “has heard the word of his white father. He says there is a home for his white father and all his people in the lodges of his tribe. His warriors will hunt for them, if the Walkallah will give the Pale Lily to the Snake for his wife, the Walkallab shall finda home in the lodges of the Snake.” : “J havea home now—my people have food and can buy more if they want it,” replied the Walkallah, “ Tell the Snake that my child can never enter an Indian lodge, she will dwell with her father.” “Ugh! Good!” said the War Eagle, who had listened with fear all this time, lest his rival should carry off the bride which he had so coveted. But the Snake was not disposed to yield his point so easily. After hearing the reply of the father through the inter- preter, he bade the latter say that his tribe was powerful, and if the Walkallah did not give him his daughter he would make war upon him. : The old man smiled as he heard this, and at a signal his men servants, twelve in number, appeared, each of them arm~- ed with rifles and pistols, also dragging in with them a small brass field piece, which the Indians had before seen disch and had named it the “ Thunder and Lightning Spirit.” “There is my answer to your chief!” said the Walkallah to the now astonished interpreter. At the same time the few but brave warriors of the War Eagle moved to the side of the Walkallah’s men, and Ossiniwa, shouting his war cry, said to the Snake, in his own tongue, “Your men are women! My tribe is small, but we can fight you. The Walkallah is my friend.” The Snake only replied by casting his hatchet into thé earth ° attho feet of the other chief, signifying thereby a declaration of war, and then glancing fiercely at the Walkallah and*his men, left the palace with his warriors, without uttering another word. When they were gone the War Eagle stepped up to the Walkallah, and pointing to his own warriors, said, “ You are my chief ; behold my warriors ; they will die for you.” : The white man paused a moment, ere he replied, as if en- gaged in decp thought, and then he asked, “ Will you fight for me without ever again asking for my daughter to be your wife ?” “Tho War Eagle will look at the white Lily, as he looks at the stars in hvaven, which he cannot reach,” replied the In. dian. “Your tribe is small, you cannot withstand the numbers Co-atchee can bring.” “We can die, and ecan take many scalps before we die!" replied the savage. “Qan | trust your warriors with arms, will you not make war against me if I give them rifle-?” “May the Great Spirit speak in his thunder and ourse us, and then slay us with red lightning, if we prove false!” anid the chief, laying his hand upon his heart. , _ “TI will trust you. You may move your camp here, close to mino,” said the Walkallah. “Co-atchee will make war upon me ; I will give your braves rifles, and they must defend me !” “They will take many scalps,” said the War Eagle, proud of the confidence bestowed on him by the ‘Walkallab. THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. | As he spoke a savage smile, proud as it was determined, lit up the bronzed features of the Indian chief. Rifles and ammunition were soon distributed to the war riors, and under the direction of their leader, they bounded off toward theirown encampment to remove their women, children and old men to the vicinity of the ice palace. Meantime the Snake had hurried off to his more distant camp to raise a party to revenge the affront which he thought he had received at the hands of the Walkallah. He determ- ined to first exterminate the scanty band of Ossiniwa, little dreaming that the latter would break up his camp and join the whites, long ere his warriors could get ready for the fight, CHAPTER VL THE RISING STORM. Tre steamer had been out one week and had got well to the Northward and Eastward, and as yet had met with no material difficulty, although for the latter part of this time, a heavy head sea, and a head wind prevented her from gain- ing much on her course. But the eighth day closed very threateningly. When the sun went down, Captain Lonsdale stood at the taffrail of his noble ship, and gazed anxiously towards a rising mass of cloud in the southern board, which appeared like vast armies of grim demons forming in dark and terrible array for battle, “ We'll havea cap-ful afore morning, sir,” said his mate, a weather-beaten old tar, one of those true hearted, tough and good sailors whonever manage to get higher than a mateship ; in fact they never have an ambition to get higher. “Yes.” replied the captain to him, “and must take a look at the cargo and see if it is likely to shift any. Tell the engineers to have every thing braced well, and while we've plenty of time you may house to’-gallant masts and get up preventer stays for the lower masts.” - “ Aye, aye, Sir!” replied the mate—‘ I'll set the hands about it, but I don’t like that big chimney there amidships. It'll hold more wind than a mainsail, and if it goes by the board it’s heavy enough to make oven-wood of the bulwarks.” “You must clap on three or four more chain stays and braces,” said the captain. ‘Secure all and bear a hand about > Ty * In a moment more the mate’s rough voice was heard for- ward shouting— : “ All hands to seoure ship, ahoy!” ‘ The crew were seen hurrying to and fro, aloft and below, obeying orders and securing everything for the approaching gale. The sea which always rises before the gale is felt, now began to heave in heavily from the southward, and some of the passengers who had not yet learned how to keep their sea- legs, had great difficulty in keeping their feet on deck. “The sea came quartering on the steamer, causing her to roll and pitch very heavily, but she plunged on, now with one of — her huge paddlo wheels in the water, and the other out, then again with both submerged 80 much that they could hardly — turn in the great mass of water. — «The ould baste reels about as if she was drunk !” suid Mr. Tyrone, to the captain, as he crept up to the windward side of the quarter deek, where the latter stood. “|f sho is drunk, it’s cold water that made her so!” said the captain, with a laugh. - wg ae «Thon she’s like a Boston deacon that [ heard of when I was there last. He never had anything stronger than wather in his house, not even a drop o’ tay or coffee, an’ one night, when all of his folks were off in the counthry, a visitin’, they came home in the mornin’ and the dacon was as blue as blazes —all o’ the could wather.” Rg foo a a “Qh dear me! cap’n, J do wish you would not let the ship shake so much, Do juss let it lay still, and I'll thank you,” oried a voice from the nearest cabin hatch, a Upon looking that way the hoad of Miss Priscills Prime an
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=e 10 was seen to be just peeping over the rim of the hatch, and geid head being surmounted by an oil-cloth cap that belonged to her brother, who at that moment was engaged below with Mr. Frost in an interesting game of cribbage at three cents a corner. Seeing thut the captain paid no attention to her request, the antiquated female elevated her voice, and cried— “Mister captain, can’t you hear me? I can’t stand this shaking. I shall go all to pieces, if you won’t stop it.” “We'll save the pieces, ma'am,” cried Tyrone. “IT wish you’d hold your tongue, sir. I was hot dressing myself to you, and I don’t want any inflammation from you.” “ Inflammation! is it? Sure an’ you don’t need that from anybody.” The old maid cast a look of scorn at him, but disdained any further reply. She again shouted to the captain— “Will you listen to me or not; mister captain? Oh, you jist wait till I git on shore, P11 make the papers ring with your barborious treatment of a young and an unpertected lady.” “Not manin’ yerself, at all-at-all, ma’am ; for ye are as ould as the hills, and yer ugliness ’ud pertect ye from the divil himself,” cried Tyrone. “ Beast !—you horrid Irish hannibal !” now shrieked the old maid. “Oh if I could get at you, I’d scratch your eyes out.” “I thought ye was related to the Ould Scratch,” said Tyrone, with a most comical leer, “You did, did you! I’ll show you then!” and she ventured the whole of her lengthy body upon deck, and holding on by the railings, attempted to get to the taffrail where Tyrone was standing. “You'd better go below, madam ; you'll get wet up here with the spray,” said Capt. Lonsdale. “Then why can’t you pertect me from the insults of that horrid wulgarian!” cried the old maid. “Oh you wile willain !’ she continued, shaking herclenched hand at Tyrone, end still endeavoring to get to him, It was unfortunate that she left the protection of the hatchway, forjust as she got out upon the deck, a short swash sea struck the weather bulwarks of the ship, and the top of it came in-board and deposited about a hogshead of water * directly in the face and over the spare form of Miss Priscilla. She fell with a shock and screamed with a half-choked voice, “Help, help! I’m overboard! Save me! save me!” and then as she lay upon deck, half-covered with water, she struck out with arms and legs asif she had already taken lessons in swimming, Tyrone and the captain both sprung to her aid and lifted r to her feet, and a sorry face did she present to them. The curls—the three cherished curls were straight as a candle, the rouge and powder on her cheeks lay in blotches, or was running off in rivulets, “Help me below, oh do help me below or I shall f:int!” she said, not looking quite so fiercely upon Mr. Tyrone now as #ie had a moment before, for the gentleman had his arm ground her waist and was supporting her very kindly. “Tt you think there’s any danger o’ faintin, ma’am, hadn’t you better stay up here where wather is so plinty ?” said Tyrone, who could not refrain from a joke. “ Oh, no, no! I know I shall die, but do take me down stairs, and put me to bed, and let me die decently.” “‘ Sartinly, ma'am, if itis your wish to die dacent, I’ve no objections to helpin’ ye,” said Tyrone, and raising the slim pattern of mortality in his armas, as he would have done a stuffed doll, he carried her below. In a moment he returned to the deck, and walking up te Lonsdale, asked, “ Which do you think is the most dangerous, captain—a mad bull or a mad woman?” “J'm sure I can’t say,” said the captain, with a laugh. You who have so much to do with bulls ought to know best.” “ Sure, then, I think that a mad woman is the worst buste of the two—axin your pardon, ma’am, for I didn’t know a lady was so near me.” This last part of Tyrone’s remark was caused by observing THE CAMP-FIRE LIBR ARY. Mrs. Frost, who at ‘that moment came upon deck alone and walked aft as steadily as an old seaman. She simply bowed in acknowledgment to Tyrone’s apology, and he continued, “That ould maid, ma’am, has put me out o’ sorts, or I'd never have caught myself makin such an ungallant remark, but she’s as sour as butthermilk that’s nine days old, and that’s as sour as an unpaid creditor’s temper. Will you take my arm, ma’am ? the ship rowls worse than e’er an ould tax cart. Sure she’s in the cradle o’ the say !” The lady smiled—one of those sad, haughty smiles we have noticed before, but politely declined taking his arm, and pas- sed aft to the taffrail, where she paused and turned her large black eyes toward the southern horizon. Twilight was deepening, but she could see the rising storm, nnd instead of looking terrified or anxious her eyes flashed with a wilder, gladder light than when she came upon deck. “ We shall have a storm !” she said, turning to the captain. “ Yes, lady, I fear we shall !” he replied. “ Fear ?” she replied, in a tone of surprise, ‘“ Fear! you a a sailor, and fear it ?” “* For the sake of my passengers, lady, of course I dislike a storm, yet Iam prepared for it, and anticipate nothing more than the discomfort usual in a storm,” he replied. “I care not for the discomfort,” she replied, while her dark eyes flashed wilder than ever. “I loyea storm—a glorious storm—my very soul is in it. Oh, if I could bea spirit, to ride on the very fronts of the clouds and sweep over the world and see cowardly mortals shuddering under my frown, I would be content. Fear a storm !—I love it, as a miser loves his gold—as a warrior loves the battle !” “ Excuse me, lady, but I think if you were tosee many the romance would soon wear away,” said the captain, smiling at her wild enthusiasm. “ What ! when I can see a sight so grand as that ? Never,” replied the lady, pointing to the mass of clouds rising to the southward, which at tliat moment were lighted up by a long, vivid fash of lightning. “ My dear deary!” cried a cracked voice from the cabin hatchway, “ do come down ; you'll catch cold there.” Mrs. Frost did not even deign to look toward her husband, who now endeavored to come upon the deck, but was rather timid about trusting himself on such slippery footing. “ Deary !” he again cried ; “‘ Elementa, my love, come here, I want you.” The wife still paid no attention to him, and the old gentle. man, concluding that the storm made so much noise she could not hear, attempted to go to her. She saw this ; and turning to him, ina tone of careless scorn, . she said, “ You had better stay below, sir; this is no place ion you. You may catch cold up here.” “ But docome down, my dear ; do come down !” urged the old man. “ We'll make up a gime of whist below ; Mr, Ty rone’ll come in, won’t you ?” “I shall not go down !” said the lady, in a decided tone. “ Then I'll come up and stay with you, my dear !” said the old man, and he attempted to reach the side of his wife, It was but an attempt, however, for just as he got his feet — upon the deck, a gust of wind came which not only deprived him of his wig and hat, but also of his footing, and in a mo- ment he was sprawling upon the wet and slippery deck. “ Shan’t I take him b-low, ma’am ?’ asked Mr, Tyrone. |i “ You will oblige me if you do !” replied the young wife. Tyrone quietly raised up the poor old fellow, and tucking him under his arm as he would an umbrella, walked below with him. It was now growing dark, and with the darkness both the wind and the sea rose higher and higher. Yet the young wife _ stayed upon the deck, regardless of the spray which began to dash over her, and of the repeated messages sent her by her husband, “ Beautiful 1 glorious !” she would exclaim, asthe red light- ning lighted up the black and ragged masses of clouds which game sweeping along with the howling gale. “« The divil take her taste!” muttered Tyrone to himeeli, as a 27 a)
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THE CAMP-PIRE | LIBRARY. ae : he heard her remarks. “Sure, if she oats ‘that beautiful, : “Yon must have been deeply wronged, indeed!’ said he aie, wouldn't she call that a delightful death %” “to feel go bitterly 1” . He did not intend tht the lady should hear his remark, but she heard the latter part, and said, “Tt would be delightful, compared with a wretched life, sir.” ““T belave yer more than half right, ma’am, “ said Tyrone, 3 little abashed wen he found himself overheard ; “ but your life caunvt be so wretched, sure—one so young and so beauti- “ Aye, I was wronged, a noble father was ruined and then oe) foully slain, and all because I was beautiful and would not listen to a villain’s love!” said the lady bitterly. i “ Does the wretch yet live ?” asked the young man, “Yes, and is high in rank and power, but wo be unto him, when again we meet.” ful! ' “Your histor hs ; 'y must be one of strangeness and romance!” “ Did you ever see a flower buried beneath a snow drift ?” suid the young lord. . mee said she, quickly interrupting him. “It is, and perchance you shall hear it ere long—yours, too, “ A could berth it ’ud have, ma'am,” said Tyrone. must be strange.” “Such as I have in life! Why should I love life ?” said the “Tt is, lady, but I cannot reveal it—there are others toe a4 lovely woman, haughtily; then without waiting a reply, she closely involved in it for me to betray their aecrets !” ee turned and walked to another part of the vessel. “Then you have loved!” a, “ She's s strange crater! Be my sow! ! I pity her though!” “Never—never !” replied the young lord. “ Except my ae said Tyrone, “to be tied up as she is to that ould lump o’ dried mother, I do not know that I have a tie on the wide earth.” a ‘ ” in? ‘ | ia bones, “Then let us be friends,” said the lady. “I can be no more # to you—would that I were your sister !” oat oe “Sister!” echoed the young man, ina tone of deep feeling. FS ; T wish I had a sister.” q| CHAPTER VII. “Then feel that I am one,” said the young lady. 2 “Thank you, lady,” said he. “I had a sister once, but we ‘ A MYSTERY. were separated in very early childhood, and I can scarce ree fa member her. But [ must not speak of her now.” Bs BE Wuen Mrs. Frost left the side of Tyrone, she passed along to “Why not? There is some strange mystery in your life, se cine A : where the main-rigging of the vessel was fastened to the chain and I, with woman’s curiosity, would pierce it!” 4 a BS plates, and there paused, and sustaining herself against the “You may not, lady. Were it only mine, I would share Ae tan ie heavy rigging, again looked out upon the storm. the secret with you,—but Téannotl? pee. 3 y “Oh how grand!” she murmured, as she saw the storm “I will not ask it; but I thank you for your kindness and it a freshening up every moment. “ Yes, lady, it is indeed so!” said the deep voice of one who had stood there, ere she came, without her being aware of it, She recognised the voice. “Ts it you, my lord ?” she asked. 7 “ . “Tt is, lady!” replied Lord Wimsett, for this was he. X “And you think this scene beautiful ?” “Tt is grand, very grand!” “Then, my lord, you are the only man of soul that I have met yet. I do not say it for a compliment—but all the rest regard this scene as a fearful one.” “Tt is fearful to those who love life over-much.” “ And do not you love life, my lord?” “T am sorry to say, lady, that I care but little for it.” ** Are you not young, and wealthy, and, most of all, free ?” sympathy to me. Of allaboard, you alone area kindred spirit—were you not here should indeed be alone.” Warm words, very warm words, for a married woman to ot ‘use toward a handsome young man, the reader will say, but Pita there is far less harm in words than deeds, ae The storm had now broken upon the vessel. The dark clouds enveloped her like ashroud, and the hoarse gale scream- eS ae ed wildly through her rigging. - t Her sails had all been furled, the wind was fair, and she kept on her course, with her huge wheels turning rapidly in the foaming water, The sea began to grow rougher all the time, and every little while it would beat over the vessel, deluging the decks and drenching those who were exposed to it. \ “Tam all these, lady, but I am not happy ?” _ EPR TO0 BOR, eke she. Y Pung ORAS ee 3 ¥ “T know it, my lord. and because I, too, am unhappy, and Se Tee Suihaie? ahencked F me) feel, in your sadness, the sympathy of self-suffering, I have dared to speak to you as I have.” “T am sorry, lady, to know that you, too, are unhappy-~but “ No—I will go down, too.” ry “ And read tome? I cannot sleep when the elements are ae & is not this damp spray unpleasant toyou? Had you not better awake. I feel as if I was sister spirit with them to-night.” go below?” “T will read to you if you desire ; but as you spoke of the a ; “No, my lord ; I prefer remaining here. If below, I should elements, a curiosity arose inmy mind. Why ‘Were youcalled) 5°" ae : , ’ Wy ’ . : ‘ " ‘be exposed to endearments from one I hate—from the dotard agents? arty angulay sae, cae +o whom I am bound.” “It is, and was given tome by my father, who was a sin- ae 2 “Have you been married Jong?” asked the young lord. ‘gular man, but a very noble one. Why he gave it to me I do . 2 ae “Too, too long !” she replied bitterly. not know.” r Uke aq ; The two now left the upper deck, and upon going below, found that all of the passengers were still upandinthemaim cabin, pT 3 “Lady, I dare not asky ou of those troubles, yet T'can deeply Mr. Frost was sitting close to a stanchion, clasping it very acs sympathise with you.” tightly to keep himself from falling, and watching the Perit : - “¥es, I need sympathy! You will not ask but I will tell panion way with anxions eyes. Pagin _ you,—I am a slave! al was bought—bought by the man who Sp he say die wits ‘comic down, loaniog op Sis >arm, n of the 3 4 -ealls me his wife. I married him for gold—for gold to save young lord, his little eyes flashed angrily, and he said in» ot my father’s honor and life. I could not tell you all now—It | petuign’ tone to his wife,— a, is a long and a strange story, but it isa wild one. Were you ‘Tye been waiting. for you, my dear. a8 ane very wrong ; _tohear it you would not wonder that I hate the man who calls for you to stay up there in the cold and wet, me wife—that I am so careless of life,” “Some people like being out in the dark with other People, “ Is your father living?” asked the young lord. I guess!” said the old maid, spitefully. eg “No,” replied the lady, witha shudder. “No, I blasted Mrs. Frost, or Donna Elementa, as we prefer to call her a Spelt to save him, but it was too late. I was deceived and sane no Hephy se. ney fi usband, no aid she a the coi: Detrayed, Iam only living now for revenge. I shall soon of the op iteful old maid, but bowing her thanks to the, PR, ‘be the mistress of millions, for the old dotard will die and ee nee pe tee hetiataye ee ‘neil me ull his wealth, and then I shall go and seek revenge, — er her, and at the came ee aan eee woruna can son to cae g You are very young ?” said he. eae _ ‘*¥es, and even younger than I look. Troubles like mine ‘make one grow old ver y quick,” \
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A, a he storm. The gale blew heavier than before. their wet, outer garments, for they returned very shortly to the cabin, and the lady seated herself near to the young lord, who had brought a book with him and was about to commence reading to her, when the old maid came to the upper end of the cabin, where they had seated themselves, and without an Anvitation took a seat at the same table, “Has your husband gone to bed, ma’am?” said she to Donna Elementa. “TI presume so; if you feel an anxiety upon the subject you an go and see,” said the lady. © «Not at all, ma’am, not at all! How's your mother, my lord ” continued the troublesome old hag. “T beg you’ll inquire of her servant?” said the yourg man, impatiently. “Oh it’s no matter,” replied Miss Priscilla ; “only I thought you'd know, I see you're going to read—what have you got there ?” “A book |’ replied the lord, growing rather angry. “Yes, I see it’s a book—I hope it’s the Bible; I’d like to hear a chapter, or so.” “TItis not the bible, then, but a book you dislike—it is Byron\” said the young man, still more impatiently. “Byron !” shrieked the old maid,” and you are agoing to xead Byron on such a night as this? Oh I should not wonder if the ship sinks—to think of such a thing as reading that awful book at such atime!” \ “You need not listen to it,’’ said the lady, coldly. “No, indeed ; I will not. And how you, a married lady, “with your husband sick or abed, can sit here and listen to it, is more than I can understand. My lord, you must’nt read that book to-night!” “ Must not!” you are taking too much trouble on our ac- count, madam,” replied the young man. “Tm no madam, sir: that’s a madam beside you eaeres Tm a miss, I'd have you to know.” “ Very well then, Miss, as you dislike to hear Byron, per- haps you bad better retire.” “No, I won’t go! I see you want to get rid of me—but I won't go.” - “Then I hope you'll be silent as I intend to commence reading.” “No, I won’t be silent, either. I don’t think it is right for you to sit here and read Byron, when there’s such a storm !” era! “You will foree me to appeal to the captain and haye you banished to your state room,” said the young lord. “T won’t go!” replied the virago. “Och, Miss Prime, but there’s the divil to pay in your state room,” cried Mr. Tyrone, approaching at this juncture. “What's in my state-room ?” screamed the old maid. “Sure it has sprung a leak in the berth, and your bed’ll _ be ruined intirely if you don’t see to it: The old maid rushed to her room to see what was the mat- ter, and as soon as she had entered it, Tyrone turned the key which he had put outside, upon her, and then winking to the party whom he had relieved, he returned to the table where he had just left Mr. Prime engaged oyer a substantial lunch, CHAPTER VIII. ICH IN SIGHT. w 7 Pap night passed away and with it the dark clouds, and the day, the bright sunny day dawned once’ more upon the om “corn , We said that the clouds had passed with the night—but not Though not a stitch: of canvas was spread to ‘it, and they had stopped her _ engines, the steamer swept swiftly « on toward the north, ‘The captain had sto her engines, for she was gaining teo eee and the ‘sea ou ies that he was forced he BYey é j ; at THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. SS eee ee vat yer antics, that we'll need but little fire.” to keep his vessel b. fore it, and dared not atiinige to ‘eg her on her true course. The scene was changed and yet it was magnificent. Grand beyond the idea of any one who has not witnessed a like one. Not a speck in the sky, not a cloud in sight, all the concave above looking blue and cold. Below, mountains of great waves were chasing each other, and on their crests huge drifts of snowy foam tossed and tumbled. The great waves seemed to chase the dark hull of the plunging steamer; now they would topple almost over her decks as she sunk into some deep and dark abyss, then rushing on beneath that buoyant bull, they would lift her high above them all, tossing her about as if she were a very plaything to them. 7 Her spars had all been housed except her lower-masts, and these, with the chimney and wheel-houses, served, by holding the wind, to force her ahead with great rapidity. The heave of the sea, added to her unwislied-for speed. Her young captain looked anxious as he noted how swiftly she drove on, and when at noon he took an altitude of the sum and learned his latitude, his anxiety did not decrease, “We shall be amongst the ice before another eee ” he muttered to his mate, “if the gale don’t hold up.” “ An’ there’s not much likelihood o’ that,” replied the old seaman; “when itsettles down cledr and blows a gale like: this from the southard, I always look for a week of it at least.” “Yes, I fear you are right, but it won’t do to try to haul by. If we had t'ie craft in the trough of the sea once, we should never get out again ” “No, sir, our only chance is to keep her before it till a lull but look !—what is that ahead ?” “The ice—the ice!” replied the young captain, with a look of mingled pain anxiety. “Thank God we made it in daylight,” said the mate. ‘If ‘we'd run foul of it at night, we mighn’t lave had time to say our prayers before we’d have been knocked into smithereens.” The alarm now became general through the ship. Both crew and passengers could easily see huge piles of ice ahead and on either bow, looking like great masses of fleecy clouds: just rising aboye the horizon. And the ship was dashing down toward these with inet dous rapidity. ? The young captain still appeared calm and cool, but he was. deeply alarmed, for the peril was most imminent, the danger euch as he could not avoid, and scarcely knew how to meet. After a short consultation with his mate, he gave orders to have kedges and hausers brought on deck, and then had his boats all cleared away and made ready for lowering, and also- made other arrangements for leaving the vessel if it ashe become necessary. He also caused his engineers to “fire up,” ready to use hia steam-power if it could be made of use, and then taking hia. station forward, watched the ‘prospect, ahead with lvoks so- calm, that they much belied his real fears. As they are but too apt todo in danger, the passengers all crowded to his side, and many siepticts was he aie to ree: spond to. The old maid, as usual, was the most troublesome. “Why don’t you stop the ship, captain ?” she asked; “J do- declare you wepe torun us intodanger. I never will sail in your ship again.” f “T hope not, mis! !” responded the captain, aly. “Don’t be afther hopin’ ony such thing, cup’n dear,” said Mr. Tyrone; “sure the lady is the very life of us now—and if we should get wedged into the ice, she'd be such a sayin?” 0’ fire wood.” “What do you mean, sir? What do you: go for to insin’ wate ?” cried the old maid, spitefully. =, a “ Nothin’ ma’am, only ye will keep us all so warm wid Jaffin er “Laughing at my what, sir? I don’t wear anything false, sir, I'd have you to know, and nothing that you © n laugh at. Brother John, I tell you once for all ‘that pci a to stand by 80 o and see 1 me caballo de oa tp
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eS ne ¥ ot ye. He's always sofunny. Why can't ye put up with his jokes—Ho! ho!” said her brother. : “ Yes, yes; he is so funny—He ! he!” coughed Mr. Frost. The ship was now close down wpon the ice and they could see the huge bergs pitching about in the heaving mass of waters, in such a way that it made the'r situation doubly per- ilous. The young captain looked around at his old mate, for he felt the need:of advice, then if ever. “We must try and make a lee in there—somewhere !” said the old mate, ina lowtone. “If we c.n fi.d a basin open under the ice of a large island, we'll be safe "enough for the time being.’ “Then go aloft and see ifyou can make out any opening,” said the captain. ‘We wi.l try and make head with the steam if we can.” The old seaman sprung aloft, and with an anxious eye the young commander still regarded the scene before him. But there was one there who thought little of danger, for she was lost in the grandeur of the scene. It was Elementa. She stood beside her husband, who clung to her arm, as a babe clings to its mother for support. But she did not heed his presence. One of her gloved hands rested upon the dark bulwarks, another grasped an icy rope, and thus she stood apparently unconscious of all present} looking upon the grand view. There were mountains of white and glittering ice, and against their clear, crystal fronts the huge waves lashed themselves into foam. Faras the eye could reach on either hand, these hills of ice were sven. Some of them were peaked and lofty, looking like ancient turrets and towers; others were like massy cliffs and long ranges of rock hills; and they were fringed by a sheet of foam. Waves were seen to dash hundreds of feet high as they struck the bases of these glittering peaks, and down to- ward this fearful chain the steamer was hurrying. The captain now gave orders for the steam to be applied, and set the wheels to backing water to keep his vessel back as long as possible, from what now seemed inevitable de- struction. But suddenly, above the dash of waters and the roaring of the gale, the old mate's voice was heard from aloft. “ Starboard your helm and let her come a point to port in her course. Make steam on her—there’syet a channel open!” The order was quickly obeyed, the head of steam was ful, and with increased swiftness the vessel dashed down toward the huge masses of ice. The crew said nothing. Even the old maid was quiet as. she regarded the terrible scene before them. Only the voice of the enthusiastic Donna Elementa was beard ever and anon, as she cried, - “ Beautiful !—beautiful !” The vessel dashed on, apparently right on a huge berg of ice, when suddenly the mate cried,— “ Port! hard a port your helm !” She luffed up into a narrow opening between two immense bergs, and in a few moments more was in a calm quiet lake of water inside the mountains of ice. It was well that they had so soon gained the little haven, for in a few minutes the very channe) by which they had en- tered was closed with a terrible crash, and though they were safe for the time, yet they could hear the gale raging in the open sea beyond and by the moving ice could see how dread- ful would have been their fate if they had been but half an hour later. Though apparently sife for the present’ their situntion was anything but agreeable. The gale was bearing the ice fast ‘ to the northward and westward off from their course—they were fast locked in a narrow little basin, and when or how they could get out of it, was more than they could well determine. Captain Lonsdale, put the best face he could upon the matter, and gave orders to moor his ship to one of the shores of his little harbor, and arranged everything so ay to render her safe and easy at her moori gs, and then devoted himself to reassuring and calming his passencers. i The young Lord Wimsett had spent all of this time with 1 ‘THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. his invalid mother, but now that the present danger wam over, he came out, and by his presence and cheerfulness aided. the captain in hisrather hard duty. But after all, Tyrone, _ his cheerful laugh and ready wit, was the most efficient aid. “ The divil never’ll come nigh us here,” he cried, after the steamer was moored ; “the berth is decidedly too could for his Satanic majesty.” “ He hasa deputy here !” muttered a discontented passenger, glancing at Miss Prime, “So much the betther,” replied Tyrone, “I'd rather see the Ould Un by proxy than in any other way. “Look yonder! See, a white bear—two of them on the ice. Who’s for a shoot,” shouted the captain. Tyrone and several others announced their readiness, | and after donning warm clothing made of skins, they took guns and entered the yewl. When close enough for a shot one of the bears was killed. The smaller one proved to be afemale, She stood licking the body of her mate. Tryone declared he would lasso her with the rope, and jumped on the ice for that purpose. He would have been reckless enough to have attemped it but that his compan- ions saved him the trouble by shooting the brute, As they got on board the vessel again Tyron found Mr, Frost on deck and could not resist a joke. “I s’pose you’re very contented now, sir? You're jist like a fish in the wather, or a duck in.the pond.” “Helhe! Idon’t exactly know what you mean, but you're sofunny: Helhe!” “Why, bein frosty in age an’ name, you ought to feel cone venient and asy in this frosty region,” said Tyrone, “Tt’s too cold !” said the old man, then turning to his wife he added,—"‘ let us go below, deary !_ I shall freege up here |” The lady did not heed his remark. She stood gazing at. the strange and beautiful scene around her. “Tt is strange how romantic some people pretend to be,” said the old maid spitefully, noting the abstraction of the lady’s manner } : “May be we could raise a little game of cribbage below now that we're safe an quiet,” said Mr, Prime, “ Won't you go down with me, Mr, Frost tae “Yes, you'd better, T’ll see to the ladies,” said Mr. Tyrone. “Thank you for nothing!” said Miss Prime, with a toss of - her head. “Ican see to myself.” “You're ould enough, I dare say and ugly enough, in all conscience,” replied Mr. Tyrone, forgetting his politeness in. the insult of her words and manner. “The old maid had often found that she only lost by continue ing in repartee with Tyrone, therefore she only cast a scornful look, and left the deck. Mr. Frost was easily persuaded to go down toa game of cribbage, and, for a wonder, also persuaded his young wife to godown, Lord Wimsett, however, had already preceded her. Tyrone was now the only passenger left upon deck, and he. s00n joined the captain, where he and the mate were standing: engaged in consultation, “T hope I’m not intrudin’ as the divil said when he went to a Quaker meetin’ where the people sat still and kept sayin? nothin’ all the time,” said he. “No, Mr. Tyrone, you arenot intruding!” replied the cupe tain; “ we are only calculating our chances for getting out of this fix,” “ Well, sir, and if Imay be so bould, what kind of a con- clusion will ye come to? as the reader said to a bothersome story.” ; i “ Why, to speak the truth, Mr. Tyrone, we are drifting 8o " fast to the north, that I very much fear we shall be frozen up. in the ice, andif so, we shall be short of provisions aud God. only knows what will become of us.” Seeing tears start suddenly into the eyes of the always gay Irishman, he added,— . : “Still we will hope for the best. With care, our provisions. _ may be made to lust a long time.” “ Och, it wasn’t them I was thinkin’ of at all, at all!” said ‘the noble fellow, “A thonght come over me of the dear wife and children thar’s a lookin’ for me ou the other side of the 13 Gilecaks be et TF io bis iis a a te Fie cet a Epe << ot Ret eee. PEGS SP oy Sn meter ad x La es. ro Sasi ‘
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cS —--— THE C CAMP: FIRE LIBRAR bY. wather! Sureit’s them that'll have the heavy sveapta, if we never get over to ’em, for they’re lookin’ for me back with the 5, bit o’ money I ha’ wi’ me, which was to kape us from iver Bi partin’ agin!” Sy “ Well we'll hope and try fer the best, Tyrone,” said the "young captain. ‘But we must prepare for the worst, there- fore I shall have to put all hands upon short allowance!” “ Ould Prime 'll grumble at that—it is the only way you could offend him!’ said Tyrone, brushing away a tear from his cheek, “but I’ll do all Ican tohelp ye, cap’n! Let my heart be ever so heavy, I'll keep a light wes and do allI ‘can to aid ye.” “Thank you, my noble friend! Your aid will be useful. Th: re’s nothing like a good laugh to keep the devil out of'a ship’s company. If I had my way, I'd always have a ship's jester hired and kept aboard.” CHAPTER IX & YANKEE SKIPPER. Tr was even as Tyrone had prophesied. When the captain acquainted the crew and passengers that, in consequence of their situation, he felt it his duty to put them on short allows ance of drink and provisions, Mr. Prime was the only man to grumble. “T've paid my fare,” he cried, “and it included provisions ee and wine, and I mean to have it.” “You shall fare precisely as the rest do, sir,” said the captain. ; “But I won't, sir! ‘cried Mr, Prime. “Then why don’t ye do as the fat baie do?” said Tyrone, with a laugh—‘‘ they suck their sleet “This is no laughing matter, sir,” cried Prime, “you may be funny on other subjests, but there's no fun in this to me. ve got my own private stores at any rate, there’s a good lot of them!” “I'm glad to hear it, sir!” said the captain. _ “You are, are you! I reckon you think you'll go snacks with me, but you won't!” said Mr Prime, his face growing wedder than ever. “I don’t think much about it, sir,” replied Captain L. “ You will have to put your stores into the general lot, and receive only your share, and that a small one. “I won't stand it. I dare you to touch my private stores. Y’ll knock the first man down that looks inside of my state ‘room !’’ shouted the enraged Englishman ; ‘‘ I'll have you up for this, if there's law or Gospel in England !” “Well, well, sir; wait till we get there before you talk of daw. Just now we have no law except that of necessity.” “J don’t see any necessity—we've got three ase) provi- “gions on board.” “ Yes, sir, and it may be six months before we can get, out of this ice—if we ever can. We are way] fur north now and drifting farther every hour.” _ Mr. Prime was about to make some reply, when a very strange looking figure was seen to enter the cabin. What his form was one could hardly say, for it was ‘closely enveloped in a large white bear skin, but the black wool hat _» over his head, which was tied down with a red woollen tippet, did not look quite so savage. A very red face, fronted by a , Diue nose, could be seen under this hat, and two small grey eyes pevred out from under heavy white eye-brows. “How do dew !” said this strange individual, and tlen tak- _ ing a pair of woollen mittens from his hands, he advanced to _ the stove and warming his hands, added,— i8 4 rayther guess you didn’t spect to find nobody here.” Why who are you—where are you from ? we did not at us,” said the captain, in surprise. Lehn not. Ive geal in cin re blasted i ice- I’m a large man, sir, a fat man, sir!” | } got inter the ice, and as soon as I seed you was safe, I thought I’d come over and be neighborly like.” “Then you have a vessel in the ice ?” “ Yes, my sloop’s fruz up. I got blowed off the Banks, and had to let the sloop take her own way, and thar she is! I don’t keer tho,’ for I’ve an ideer if we keep a driftin’ much longer, Ee we ll get up to Symmes’ Hole, and I hey a nation ideer of get- ting in there, jist to see where I would come out !” “How large is your vessel, and how many your crew ?” asked the captain. Sg | a “Why, we're four, all told. There’s me and Jethro, my a first mate: he’s my brother, and does the cookin’ tco; and 3159 there’s Aaron the second mate, but he ain’t much use in cold | weather, and there’s Zebedee, the boy, he’s a nation good hand “ee in his bunk.” “a “ So you’ve only one foremast hand ?” “ Oh, we all live in the cabin—we’re all democratic repub- licans—you're a Britisher, I cale’late ?” “ Yes, sir ; this is an English steamer—her majesty’s ship ” - ae “ Then Ireckon her majesty’s ship is pooty snugly moored for the winter.” “ Have you any idea how large this field of ice is ?” inquired the captain. “No, not prezectly. I’ve been ae a buntin’ and I’ve walk- ed atigh on tew twenty mile north, and hain’t seen no clear water.” “ You've been successful in hunting, I presume ?” ee “ Yes, kinder lucky. I killed tew of these creeturs,” replied : i the Yankee captain, shaking the skin which he wore over his Be) shoulders, ‘“‘ and tew seals besides.” “ : “ Did’nt the bears give you trouble (a ty “T guess they did. I killed this ere chap close alongside - {Sa of the sloop. He was comin aboard without leave, aud so I af put tew bullets, into him and he didn’t die then till I took the = cook’s axe and went and chopped bis darned head off.” + “What were you doing when you got blown off ?” “Qh, I was coming up to the nor’ard to trade. I heern tell that the Injins up aiong the coost was mighty slack at a baryzain, so I thought I might make suthin handsome out on’em.” “ What’s your cargo?” “Tew or three barril of old iron, sich as nails and horse shoes, a lot of brass buttons, a whole box full of beads, some red flannel that my folks made tew hum, and looking glasses fe fixed tew paper boxes painted like all natur, and a hull lot of >) Cha paint fixins and red and yaller ribbons !” : “ Pretty good assortment!” said Tyrone, with a laugh. ig Cee “You may well say that—l’m an old hand at tradin, and Fae know jest what kind of truck the Ingins like”. “Have you got plenty of provisions?” asked Mr. Prime, dolefully. i “Why, as to that,” reply the Yankee, “ we’re pooty well off. Got nigh unto a cord of codfish, tew barrel of pork, four jugs of ‘lasses and ten ortw’lve bushels of beans, not countin’ - in about three sacks of dried pumpkins that our Lucinder put up to sarve us when we got out of biscuit.” “Do you know what our latitude is ?” asked Lonsdale. “ Well, I reckon, yes. I took the sun with my pig-yoke at dinner-time, and cordin to it we're away up most tew apet™. “ Yes, ree are near right,” returned Lonsdale. “And we're driftin on like mad all the hull time,” con-— tinued the Yankee. “ We'll not -be long a-gittin to ‘the: =a North Pole at this rate.” see “We'll be longer getting back wane, I'm afraid,” said Pye Te rone, sadly. bps “If we only had provisions plenty I would not: care,” paar ae od Peime. ; es wae bear meat ‘efine,” eas the Yankee. SeeMs ms. ae $e be it A and the ras aes 8 eyes brightened up.
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can afford room, and one fire will keep us all warm,” saua Captain Lonsdale. “ Thankee—thankee kindly ; but I'd rayther not!” replied the Yankee, “There’s nuthin I like so well as bein’ in- dependant.” Aslong as my sloop sticks together, I mean tew stick tew her; but that won’t hinder me from bein’ neighborly, I'll come over to see you once in a while, seein I live so close by ?” “Won't you take something to drink, sir?” asked Prime, who seemed to wish tocultivate the friendship of the skipper. “Not if you mean sperrits/” replied the other; “I never drinks nothin stronger ’ an cider or switchell. When you come to.see me, I’}] make you some capital switchell.” “ What is that ?’ asked Prime “ Why, ‘lasses and water, with a drop of winegar in it to ai make it taste sarcy !” replied theskipper. “ Did’nt you never ae drink none, mister ?” “Probably not,” said the captain; “ but I don’t think a glass of brandy could do you any hurt.” ca rs “Don’t know as twould ,” said the skipper, ‘and don’t 2 ia know as twould’nt, so I guess I'll not tech it. Our ould 2 deacon, Squire Grant, used to say it was pison, and I took a dislike to it ever since” e “Well, sir, just as you like; but where does your vessel . lay ” ; { ; “ Why she’s wedged in, atop of the ice, just to the west’ard | of here about three mile, I reckon. am l “ Qolly ! its a’most sun-down. I must be slidin’ home afore ie dark, or some of these bars may be a huntin’ me.” «Well, sir, you will come and visit us again ?” “Yes, auter you've been to see me. When I’m to hum I py ee don’t stand on ceremony, but in foreign parts I can stick up x for etekett as well’s anybody.” ak We must now leave these new neighbors and old friends foi | ot eon a time, dear reader, and go to the lodge of the Ice-King. CHAPTER X. 4 THE ATTACK. Dron leaving the palace of the Walkallah, Ossiniwa hastened back to his camp, to prepare for removing his band and their little property to the island. As is usual with the Indians, a brief council was held, in which the old men were consulted ; for the wneivilized savages always pay deep respect to the wisdom and experience of the aged, thereby differing much from the civilized whites of the present generation. The band, proud of the honor of being allied with the rich white man, and of receiving arms that they could use with terrible effect, all agreed to the proposition, and hurried to strike their skin lodges and prepare for the change. lodge. When he did, he saw his young wife, the beautiful Lula, standing by the entrance, regarding him with a mournfal gaze. As he approached she opened the robe of fur which covered her bosom and showed him his child as it slept-on her bosom. epee by; and entering his: teas seated himself upon his anche of tee 5 “rich furs. oP Lula quickly hastened to bring him food. He fitioak of it silently, and with a moody frown on his brow. “Ts the heart of the War Eagle in a cloud ?” murmured the woman, “Tt i» night where his heart walks pn The warrior did not reply, bat ate on, scuice = to heed that she was present. THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. 15 Until the council was over, Ossiniwa did not approach his . He, however, did not appear to notice it, but passed haughtily — : Having finished his “ hasty” meal, the warrio? arose, and’ ta ing See a sencshell whieh hung ina basket. on one of — and sledges, “The War Eagle will dig up the hatchet of blood !" mur- mured the young wife, sadly. “ His band is’ small — witb whom will he go to war?” “ With Co-atchee the Snake! Ossiniwa will strike him to the heart!” replied the warrior, proudly, Then gathering up his rifle and ammunition, and loosening his knife in his girdle, he stepped to the front of his lodge and yelled the war-cry of his tribe. It was echoed from the rest of the warriors in a moment, and soon the proud chieftain saw his small but now well- armed band standing before him, painted and dressed for the battle. Gathering around the large council fire they commenced the war dance, while under the instructions of the old men, the women and children hurriedly struck their lodges and loaded them and their scanty stores of provisions and furs upon sledges, to which they harnessed dogs, of which a large num- ber were in the encampment The very old people and the smallest children were piled in upon the sledges, like bales of furs, for they were almost smothered in the wrappings which they were now swathed in, It does not take long to break up an Indian encampment— especially a poor one—therefore the party of Ossiniwa were soon ready for a start. One of the old men now set up a sad and singular chant, and the train started from the grove at a slow and steady pace, taking the trail to the island. They were followed by the war party, who ever and anom made the air resound with their shrill and piercing yelle. Suddenly, however, these ceased, as in the far distance they ~ aa saw the white plain spotted with dark objects, and Ossiniwe 4 at once conjectured that others were on the war path besides. 1 ae himself. 7 He was right. Co-atchee, maddened with his reception by the Walkallab, had hastened back to his encampment, and with a large force, was already coming forth to avenge the affront. ee: His first intent was to crush the feeble band of Ossiniwa, to Peep destroy his encampment utterly, and thus cut off those whe ee had always acted as hunters for the Walkallah, that he might shorten the provisions of the latter, for he was not aware of the immense stores of food, arms and ammunition possessed — by the white man. As soon as Ossiniwa discovered the war party of the Snake, . he bade his train dash rapidly on to the cover of the Walkal- lah’s palace, while he, with his scanty band of braves, slowly: is and steadily retreated, covering the flight of their women and aoe © old men. ae “Co-atcliee soon saw the party, and knowing their destina- “chal tion, as also their scanty numbers, rusbed on with his large ~ ~ band, purposing to force tlem to battle long ere they could gain the Walkallah’s island. \ 2 On, like a maddened drove of wild buffaloes, or like the 1 oe dark clouds which front the storm, rushed he and his painted ‘ ; warriors. They were very many—at least two hundred. Yet Ossiniwa shouted with a warrior’s joy as he saw them . come, for his men were armed with the terrible rifle, and he ity knew that he could slay many of the foe, and that if com> ; quered, be would die well avenged. The ground was now a dead level. They had passedall the — hills. There was not a rock, or bush, or tree between them : and the Walkallah’s island to shelter them from the foe; who a 5 were gaining rapidly upon them; for their laden train and. _ old men could not move so fast as the eager warriors ad- vanced. Still he continued to retreat. r But an old man quickly told him that if this was one! : while the others were engaged with the war party, some of _ Co-atehee’ 's band would pass on and capture the train. acre “The wise man speaks true!” replied Ossiniwa ; “ we must fight here.” ; He then halted his train, and forming his sledges tiwag a hasty breastwork, ensconced his women and children in the a rear, making them Jay down upon the ground, and then — ee ranged his warriors vant nels tue cover of uae ea = i a aes a pose of genera, and it was: ve = x a
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THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. ety, for two hundred to twenty is great odds at any time. But Ovsiniwa was prepared to give his foe a “rough and ‘ready’ reception. _ Co-atchee and his band came dashing down over the plata 2 ‘of glittering snow, slouting and brandishing their lances and 2 ‘bows in the air. _, Qssiniwa bade his men keep silent—and, strange as it would % ‘seem for*Indians, they obeyed, and in perfect silence awaited “6 : ‘the foe. Such is the silence of the moment before a thun- fe der storm bursts upon the air. : The foe came on—they were fairly within reach of the bart deadly rifles, when one shrill whoop from the lips of War 23 Engle was heard, then a flash and sharp report from his rifle e was followed by a quick rattling volley, and twelve or fif- teen of the enemy were seen to leap high in the air and “sa tumble forward upon the snow, which was quickly stained 3 with their life-blood. The enemy were struck with terror and surprise for a mos ment. They wavered first, then halted, os e The warriors of Ossiniwa quickly reloaded their guns and ve poured another deadly volley into the confused and frightened : mass, and the effect of this was so terrible to the ignorant be ; warriors of Co-atchee, that they turned and fled, leaving near hs ‘thirty of their number upon the ground. Then arose the shouts of Ossiniwa’s braves—and they rushed a forth from their barricades, to scalp and finish slaying their rc % fallen enemy. - So far not one of thems had been injured; for their rifles x = had struck the foe before they had time to use their bows, and . a few scattering arrows, fired as they retreated, had fallen to ° ei the ground ere they reached the barricade. ei But Co-atchee was as brave as he was vindictive, and he a determined not to Jet the small band of Ossiniwa drive his im- el mense numbers from the field. Sf ey He knew now that they were his superiors in arms, but he w et stil] knew that numbers must crush the bravest men, and he . 4 ‘ determined to have one more trial. ey He paused and harangued his men—he told them of their % former deeds, and called on them to revenge their fallen friends ‘Ss whom the enemy were scalping even then, before their very ae eyes. He laid out a new plan of attack and urged his men to another trial of war. Osainiwa saw the halt of the flying foe; then after their chief had harangued them, he saw them separating off into six or eight different parties, and with a warrior’s quick foresight comprehended the new plan of attack. Calling his warriors back to their barricades, he quickly ar- ranged his easily moved ramparts into a circle, and keeping his helpless people in the centre, ranged bis warriors around, preparatory for the attack. bs In a very short time it was made and from all sides. The Indians had scattered and completely surrounded them, and now, with deafening yells, they rushed furiously on to the at- tack, discharging clouds of arrows. | Ossiniwa’s braves were not idle,—shot after shot was fired, and at almost every shot a foe fell to the earth, but Co-atchee’s plan had the effect of making their fire less effectual, his men being so scattered. ‘Therefore this time they were not checked entirely, but headed by their daring chief,a part of them rushed up to the very barricades—these they attempted to leap, but they now fought at a disadvantage, with men better armed and far more desperate than they. » ° Yet their numbers had weight. Ossiniwa’s men had no longer any time to load their weapons, and now had to use their spears and hatchets. he bold rush for the spot where Ossiniwa was engaged. But the latter had his hands so full of work, being engaged with four or five warriors, that he did not notice the approach of the fdnake: ~ ‘The latter watched his chance and drew an arrow to the _ pierced his right arm and his own errow fell harmlessly at hit panna Socrates: SR Ve IGE ara Co-atchee had so far escaped the bullets, and now made a | very head on his bow, and was drawing his aim on the rival - chief, when an arrow from the midst of Ossiniwa’s party, / | * Lula, his own bride, who was at first so timid, had sped the ar- - the drifting ice, and from frequent convulsions of the immen - would be able to fleat, if her hapless Aroused by the yell of the foiled chief, and by # shrill ery of joy at his side, Ossiniwa glanced around and saw that row that saved his life, and as yet he gazed she fitted another arrow to her bow and one of the enemy’s warriors, who had already sprung upon the top of the barricade, fell back dead among his own people Animated by this example, the braves fought on. Old men wielded the weapons they long had laid aside, and though he lost several of his men, and was himself wounded, Ossini-« wa felt sure of victory. x This assurance was soon completed, for the sound of seve- ral guns was heard at a distance, and several of the Walkal- lah’s men were seen hurrying over the ke to the aid of their allies. This at once completed the defeat of Co-atchee. His dis- heartened men seeing their leader wounded and one fourth of their number dead, gave one yell of anger and despair and fled from the field. It was now nearly night, and Ossiniwa hastened his train on over the ice to the Walkallah’s island. There were many of them badly wounded. These were placed on the sledges, and soon all of them found rest for the night, and safety in the ice-palace of the Waikallah. And Ossiniwa had not noticed or spoken to Lula since the act which had saved his life ane When the Indians reached the Island, and had received di- rections to remain for the night in the ice-palace,.Lula had a spread a couch for her lord; she had spread the softest furs i- for him, and when he seated himself upon it, she had brought id j him food, and yet he had not smiled upon her acts, or even uttered one word of kindness'to her. He had seen the Lilly of the North, the fair daughter of the Walkallah, for she had stood with her father at the entrance of the cave as the warriors arrived. And his heart was full of thoughts of her—his eyes were blind to the de- votion of the sweet young woman who had borne him a son, which she hoped would be a “ great warrior.” She did not murmur at his neglect—she did not act as if she deemed herself wronged. Her dark eye had flashed for a mioment when she saw how her husband had gazed at the Walkallal’s daughter, but the light softened in a moment, and she seemed to resign herself to the fate of being second in the warrior’s heart. F ; The Walkallah came in soon after the Indians had got set- tled in their new berth. : “ You have fought well!” he said to Ossiniwa, who did not arise, but pointed to a seat on his couch when the Walkallah entered the palace. “We have taken many scalps! Rifles very good!” said the ' Indian. “Do you think Co-atchee will fight any more?” ; “ Yes ;” said War Eagle; “he has lost many men—they have brothers who will fight for revenge.” “ Well, we will be prepared for them. On the morrow you shall fix your camp in the pines on the top of the hill, where ec there is but one path to get to it. You will be safe there, and when the enemy comes we can fight them from the hill.” ah “ My white father is wise, his words are good, and Ossiniwa is his warrior!” replied the Indian. The Walkallah, seeing that his new allies were made come - jokes fortable for the night, now retired, and placed sentinels of his own men at proper points, to prevent any surprise if the party aa of Co-atchee should re-assemble and dare an attack, of which, visits however, there was very little likelihood. ; Ae * ae the time of the occurrence which we have described in ae other chapters, those on board the steamer, &., were very near, ae but also in a most perilous situation, = Serer the steamer had been for nearly three months locked upin bergs by which she was surrounded, had becom 80 m Sunive in hull, that it was extremely doubtf whether eae chains which bout possible to extricate her from the ic
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wo mt Se ae eee eee _ “Wall, you shouldn't hold a THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. ——— We will not attempt to describe the occurrences on board of her during these three months, or how her crew and pase gengers had man»~ed to kill time, but we will take a look at them as they were situa.” at the same hour when the Walkal- lah inspected the condition of his allies as they lay in the ice palace. At this moment the steamer was about thirty miles to the southward and eastward of him, drifiing with her field of ice before a south-eastern gale toward his island. To and fro for three months she had been drifted, and now the floes upon which she had rested, crashed against other bergs, parts of it had separated, and other parts liad gained size by connection with other bergs. Captain Solomon Swop, of the sloop, had been so disturbed by “the confounded airthquakes,” as he called them, that he hhad made a bargain with Captain Lonsdale to cut up his sloop into firewood, and to remove his provisions into the com- mon stock on board the steamer. He had, of course, made a handsome speculation by it, for he charged a good price for his wood, &., and then, after receiving the money, which he had no likelihood of ever having a chance to use, he had bargained for board for him- self and erew, to be paid out of his codfish and other pro- visions. His crew grumbled very much because they were not allowed to board in the cabin of the steamer, instead of taking their place with the foremast men, but Captain Swop silenced them by a promise of an equal share in his,“ spec,” and kept them from mutiny. But you shall have a sight of them, dear reader. In the main saloon of the steamer they br and a sorry looking set « portion of them were. They were closely seated around the stove, in which a fire was kept suited to the very small quantity of their fuel, We will first look at Mr. Prime. The color was gone from his cheeks, and his form was altered very much. Indeed, as his sister said, he was quite “a genteel figure’ now. Short allowance had not agreed with him very well.” His sister looked like the same dried up, withered statue of envy and ill-nature that she did before. Mr. Frost did not seem to have changed much, but his wife Was more pale and thin than before, as in fact were all on board, except the Yankee captain, who did not seem to have lost either in good humor or fat. By the way, he never had much of the latter to lose, being. sharp built as well as sharp visaged. “T think we'll make the land to-morrow, Captain,’ “said he; “cording to my ca’culation we’re in Davis’ Straits now, some- where in 68° west longitude, and not far from 628 north lati- tude ; ’cordin’ to the chart thore’s islands scattered hereaway.” a Yes,” replied Lonsdale, glad to say any thing to cheer up his sad company, “ and if we can once get on shore, we doubt- less can 1 Manage to reach some of the northern settlements!” “There's Indians on the coast, I reckon,” said Swop, “and where an Indian can live, Ican. I’m glad I’ve got my tradin’ traps safe and sound yet. I can make quite a spec maybe if I get ashore.” “§'posin’ you should, how would you get your spec home !” said Mr. Prime, sorrowfully. “TL hope if we do find the Indians and get ashore, we can buy plenty of provisions.” “I do believe that’s all you think of, brother John!” said his sister. ““ Well, isn’t it enough to make one think of such things,” replied the brother, mournfully. “Just look at me; ’m wasted away into a shadow. I can’t live long, no how!” “1 hope you'll remember me in your will,” said Swop. “No, I won’t. You wouldn’t sell out your stock of pro- visions to me when you came aboard !” said the Englishman > spitefully. grudge aginst a feller for that. The capting and the rest on ’em overbid you. I was bound to make the best bargain Tcould , git ii ge ‘To be ‘sure he was—Mister Swop is a \ prudent man be said i ot rauk kept u Pe PAL DAN RE ) p—Ca ting Solomon Swop, Miss, if you ea. “T meant cap’n,” said the old al, with a rash attempt at a sweet smile, for she seemed to have quite a partiality for Cap tain Swop because he had been very polite to her ; his greatest inducement being the very fact that Me Prime si seemed likely to die, and as Priscilla would be his heiress, Solomon, in his wisdom, had calculated that she would be “a pretty particular good sort of a spec,” and had already began to bait a matri- monial hook. (We should have spelled that last long word thus: matter-o’ -money-all.) . At this moment an addition was made to the party around the stove, by the appearance of young Lord Wimsett, who — came from one of the after cabins. “ How is your mother this evening, my lord ?” asked Tyrone, who had neither cracked a joke or smiled during the evening. “Better, my dear fellow,” replied the young man; “she seems to revive strangely of late, but I fear it is only a false brightening up, as you see a lamp blaze brighter than ever & moment before it expires.” “Thope not, my lord,” said Captain Lonsdale, “I have yet strong hopes of our safety and escape from the dangers we are in.” “ How, Captain ?” “Why, if this wind continues, and we drift this same course much longer, we shall be driven ashore, and probably within a few hundred miles of some station of our northern fur com- panies. I never shall give up hope while we have life, and if this wind lasts, we’ll surely reach land soon.” “Then I hope it will last forever, and a day afther,” said Tyrone. “Sure if I could swap the whole world for a look at my wife and the childers, I’d think it chape.” “ What did you say?” asked Captain Swop, who had only caught a word or two of Tyrone’s remark. id Nothing about trade, Cap’n Swop,” said Tyrone, quietly. “You do not seem to be cheered up by our prospects, or rather hope, of escape, lady,” said Lord Wimsett to Mrs, Frost, “No, sir, I feel quite indifferent about it,” she replied, * There are situations in life that only death can better,” “T’d like to know what you mean, deary,” said her husband, iooking at her sharply with his little grey eyes. “Nothing, sir ; nothing that concerns you,” said she, coldly, Miss Priscilla, who was speaking to Captain Swop, turned up her nose at this reply, and said loud enough to be heard by the rest of the company, “Tf I was a man, 1 guess I’d sée that what concerned my wife concerned me Wouldn’t you, Cup’n Swop ?” “Why, I don’t think if iver I was to git married, I'd feel that ar way,” said Swop, looking awfully tender at Miss Pris- cilla. Fass And you’d marry a little nearer to your age than some. folks in the world, wouldn’t you ?” “Td like to marry somewhar nigh on to it,” replied Cap- tain S., looking the old maid over, as if he was calculating whether her age and his would tally anywhere near even, “Tsay, Cap‘n, seeing ‘there is a chance of us getting onto the blessed terra firma once more, hadn’t we betther take a. sup out of that last keg of Jamaica ?” asked Tyrone. “I've no objections,” ae Captain Lonsdale. “Nor I,” said Prime, cried Mr. Prime. y, “He! he! It’s what I call a spirited idea! He! he!” said — Mr. Frost. “Who'll buy my share—T don’t drink any eperrite—but a Share of it is thine, ’cordin’ to the bargain,” ’ cried Swop. “© Tttake it,” said Prime, “ But what'll ye give sd “ Anything in reason,” “ Wall, let’s see—I’ll takenuhon much’ll my share’ mee; sure, Cap'n?” “We'll share eet a tumbler full mee ? ald Lonsiale, with a smile. © Then I'l. take A guinen for it,” eaid Captain Swop, 5 ETAT give it” replied Prime, with a apt. es “Monex is no use here, a1 ‘T need a little gror * inde, Leys pice rai for sbeecpa “ Hurrah for Tyrone’s i = soon shared arvund, and strange as it told ’ wae * ae
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oT TE 18 THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. a Wo ES Captain Swop looked very hard at the old maid's share, as if he would like to sell that, too, but she seemed disposed to make a better use of it than that, for, taking up her tum- bier, she held her nose with one hand, and making a very sour face, drank it off at a single swallow. Swop said nothing, but he sighed very heavily. Mrs. Frost did not touch hers, though the rest drank off their allowance in silence. “Won't you drink the spirits; it’ll do you good, deary !” said her husband. “No, sir, you can use it yourself,” she replied. The latter had discharged three or four small brass field pieces, which he had, several times, for the purpose of keeping them at a distance, and it had the effect of scaring them from his very doors, but not of routing them altogether, for they still kept up their yells and war-shouts at a distance. But the Walkallah cared but little for them, His dwelling was well arranged for defence; he had plenty of arms and ammunition, and he feared very little such weak opponents. When daylight came, he knew that a few well-directed charges of grape would scatter them, and he only directed lis sentinels to keep a careful guard that none of them might be murdered, ae. *Won’t you sell out to me—you don’t need a | double share ?” cried Mr. Prime. Teas “What a hog you are, brother John,” cried his sister. “I don’t see how you can drink so much of that nasty stuff”’ “You got your share down easy enough,” said he, spite- fully. Mr. Frost put an end to the dispute by swallowing the liquor himself, remarking that he thought it would warm his blood. His blood !—just as if such a dried up piece of skin and bone had any blood. The company were suddenly startled to their feet by the sound of a gun, fired apparently at a distance, but still it could not be mistaken by them. It was the booming sound of a cannon. They all started to their feet, but did not speak for a mo- ment, for they could searcely believe the truth of their ears. Suddenly they heard another, and then another, until seven or eight cannon were fired in quick succession, CHAPTER XII. TREMENDOUS PERIL, *Wuat the divil can it mane? cried Tyrone, who was the first to break the silence. “Perhaps it is only the report of the breaking up of the ice in some of the bergs,”’ said the young lord. “No,” said the captain, “I’ve heard cannon too often to mistake the sound. ‘Those were guns, and ‘they cannot be very far distant—not many miles.” “Och, hullaboo, whack !” cried TYspNe, jumping up and cracking his heels together. ‘“ Sure an’ now I feel a glimmer of hope in my heart—sare au’ I’ll yet have a chance to see ae wife and childer.” RP “There must be white folks—Inguns don’t have cannons,” said Captain Swop, with a vexed look. “There's darned little profit in tradin’ with white folks—they Know to much.” “Where white folks live, they’re apt to have plenty to eat!” aid Mr. Prime, with a gratified look. “ Without they happen to be on a vessel as we are—wrecked and starving!” said Lord Wimsett, ‘Those may be fired in distress.” “That ig trae—I don’t see what else than a wrecked ship would have cannon in this region ;” said Lonsdale, “ Might it not be one of the discovéry ships—Lord Franklin ‘is in the north somewhere,” said the young lord. “That's true—you’ve hit the mark, I expect!” said Lonsdale, brightening up, and then he grew prone as he added, * But she may be in distress, too.” ““J don’t think so: because if she was, for wliat would she fire distress guns up here for—maybe it’s a fight they’re having with the Indians,” said Tyrone. “I wish daylight would come, ” said Lonedale,“‘it might serve £0 ps our agohis and saplaln all.” : Reader, we will tell you, “ in confidence,” the sean of the \ . eumnousiie. hs _ About ‘midni ight, or a Tittle. earlier, Co-atchee, with a reins el as made his i Silecobies om sakes a The day broke at last—and we will return to the steamer to see how those on board enjoyed its breaking. Not an eye on board, except old Frost's, had closed, and he had slept because his double allowance of grog had made him rather boozy. When the day broke, Lonsdale was at his mast-head, but even those standing on the deck could see that the land was in sight. Upon the crest of a lofty precipice toward which they were driving, they could see the tall pinesy and all along to the west of them could be seen snow-covered hills, dotted here and there with clumps of evergreen trees. ‘ Then while yet they were gazing at some specks upon a distant plain, which seemed to be moving bodies of men or animals, they heard again the reports of cannon, and saw the specks hurry across the plain, while near to them, and appa- rently from just beyond the hill which was crested with pine, they saw smoke arise, showing that the firing was near. Still. as they were, in a measure, behind the bill, they could not see the ice-palace or discover the location of the Walkal+ Jah’s residence. Lonsdale came quickly down from the masthead. * We, too, must burn powder, and we soon will see whether they are friends, or what aid we may expect,” and he gave orders for the pilot-gun—a six-pounder—to be fired. At the same time he ordered the English flag to be hoisted _ at half-mast, as a signal of distress. As soon as the gun was ready it was fired, and in a very short time afterwards persons were seen among the trees upon the top of the hill. Capting Swop, who instantly fixed his spy-glass and began examining them, cried, in a moment, with a voice full of glee, “By golly, they’re red-skins, sure enough! I'll have a chance for a dicker, My traps will come in play now.” “I do hope they are not on short allowance,” re at Mr. Prime. , “By Heavens! there goes the English flag up on a ar amongst the trees!’ shouted Lonsdale, “ We'll find friends!” “Och, hullaboo whack! and I shall see the wife an’ chil- ders yet!” cried Tyroue, dancing about the deck for very joy. “Pm afeard we can't git this ere confounded ice island tew an anchor !” said Swop, who was coolly calculating the chance. “We will, at any rate, get our boats ready for use!” cried Lonsdale, and he at once gave orders to his crew to prepare ‘them. “Tt was indeed time for this, for now a new dnd terrible danger threatened them. A part of the huge ice-island had already reached the rocky : reefs ontside of the island, and shattered by the force of the concussion, was dashing high in air, while: the whole berg com~- menced cracking and crushing together in a fearful manner. — The strained hull of the steamer creaked and groaned her seams, that had alread been widely opened by the fros' 3 yawned wide apart, and it was apparent that if her i ice suppor gave way, she would soon sink to the bottom, _ And now the icy plain between them and the _ 60 smooth and level, sed to heave and break u a
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‘ “Hush! cheer up and don’t dishearten the rest!” said Lons- dale in a low tone, assuming a calmness which his deep pal- Aor evidently belied. The peopie on shore now certainly saw the peril of the steamer and her crew, for numbers of them were seen running from one point to another, appurently as if to prepare to aid them if it should be within their power. All the crew and passengers of the steamer were on deck excepting Lord Wimsett, who had remained below with his sick mother and her single female attendant. Lonsdale noticed his absence and said to Tyrone, “T wish you’d go down to your friend, Mr. Tyrone, and tell him that we shall soon have to try for the shore—the ice is breaking up,and the steamer will go to pieces along with it!” “Shall he bring up the ould lady, too P’ asked Tyrone. “ Of course, if he wishes to save her,” replied Lonsdale. “Then he'll need my help; but I’m off, as the fly said to the spider !” and away the noble Irishman started on his er- rand. The danger of their position became each moment more imminent, but the grandeur of the scene increased with the peril. Huge cakes of i ice would suddenly be upreared like mar- ble pillars raised to front a magic palace; then again they would tumble forward in a yawning gulf of clear water and be buried in a mass of foam of their own creation. The ice field seemed to melt away as it crushed in against the cliffs, though in fact it was only becoming more and more compressed as it piled in amid the breakers—the wind from outside and the huge rolling waves forcing it in all the time. “ We're in purty much of a pucker here!” said Swop, as he gazed at the scene. “I reckon there’s about eight chances and a half against all of us gittin’ ashore, and if we do it'll only be with our bodies, and we'll have to lose our traps, and that'll be hard.” “There’s not much to eat aboard !” said Prime, “ and we’ve drank the last of our liquor. We can’t be worse off.” At this moment Lord Wimsett came upon deck, supporting a lady, but the latter, who was understood to be his mother, was so closely veiled and muffled up as even to conceal her form. She had not been seen by any of the passengers since the ship sailed, having kept her stateroom on account of illness, Her son and a maid servant alone had attended to her. Her feeble steps betokened her weakness, as she came on deck, supported on one side by Tyrone, and on the other by her son. The old maid had oa standing near to Captain Swop all the time, gazing stupidly on the shore, for she thought, of course, a8 landsmen always do, the nearer the shore the less the danger. Mr. Frost leaned, as usual, upon his wife’s arm, but she seetned all unconscious of his presence, while with dark and flashing eyes she gazed upon the terrifically grand scene be- fore her. Lonsdale watched each movement of the ice and his ves- sel with eager and painful interest, ready to meet any emer- gency or to take advantage of any chance of escape that might occur. The people on shore had gathered down about the cliff, and appeared ready and anxious to offer any aid in their ‘power, but alas! it seemed as if none on earth could be given —it seemed as if the ill-fated steamer and her luckless pas- sengers were, indeed, doomed ! Now the ice, in its thundering crashes, ade ws a noise so loud that. not a word could be heard on board of the steamer, and looks only could be exchanged, "And, reader, dark and dreadful as seeme? their fate, there were portions of the tableau really laughable, ; - Prime stood with both hands pressed on his much-decreased abdomen, looking wistfully at the shore. Priscilla, forget- ting her waiden modesty and bashfulness, had clasped Cap-. ting Swop tightly around the neck, calling upon her “ dear 2 _ Solomon” to save her, while he struggled in vain to eacape from tbe gripe of her long gaunt arms. Mr. Frost, in stupid pages ne a to es ee ip ie teciong to the: skirts of ai — 7 oid siti THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. 19 his young wife’s dress, blubbering out something about “ dys ing so soon, before he had been married a year.” We will now change the scene to the shore, CHAPTER XIII. THE LANDING, WHEN the report of the gun fired from the steamer had at- tracted the attention of the Ice-King and his people, they hur. — ried to the hilltop to see whence it came, The steamer was soon descried and her perilous situation reported to the Walkallah. When he stood upon the hilltop and saw her drifting in, his brow grew dark, and with an impatient gesture he cried to an old servant that stood by his side, “TI thought we were free from interruption here and sepa- rated from the cursed world; but even fate seems to be against my peace.” : “ Ah, my lord,” replied the aged servant, “it is their mis- fortune more than yours. And beside, I much doubt that they will ever reach the land—see how the ice drives in upon the reefs and crushes as it strikes—see how it is cracking farther out. No hull that was ever built is strong enough to bear such fearful shocks!” — The Walkallah did not speak, but gazed silently out upon the terrific scene. A gentle hand was laid on him—he looked down and saw that his beautiful daughter had come to the hilltop also. She stood there and trembled and clung shuddering to his form. “Oh can it be that there are human beings yonder in that dreadful danger ?”’ she inquired. “ Yes, child; see there the flag of the country of thy birth. ” “ And must those people perish ?” “T hope not, child; but yet I do not see how they can escape. It rests with God, for buman help can be of small avail.” “Oh then let us pray for them,” tearfully urged the young and beautiful creature. The Walkallah turned to his servants and bade them bring ropes and stand in readiness to render aid if any chance of- fered, Meantime his young daugliter stood there, her lips moving in inaudible prayer, her long curls blowing out upon the breeze, her small hands clasped together. The Indians were scattered along tle rock, looking eagerly out toward the vessel, which was fast coming in on the quak- ing field of ice, her dark hull rising and falling, writhing and bending, as the ice heaved and cracked beneath and around her. At last the field seemed wedged in against the cliff, ita huge, irregular masses having become as densely packed as they possibly could. — Then from the outer edge of the ice-field, huge masses be- gan to crack off from the reacting pressure and to swiftly drift up along the still open channel. Now the danger of those on board the steamer was more imminent than before. Each movement of the ice but racked her hull the more, and each moment the ice broke off and left her nearer to the open sea in which she was now 60 uns prepared to float. ‘ : Her captain comprehended this peril. He knew that then or never was the time for his passengers and crew to leave the doomed steamer. i Suddenly the people on shore saw a man leap over the steamer’s bulwarks on the quaking, heaving ice ! He urged the rest to follow. Then two were seen to. =e a female form over. - Four of the sturdiest of the crew eet over and took ies lady in their strong arms. They bore the form of Lady Wimsett, ; seg ; | Then others were seen to follow, till every Peteon jaave one, from the steamer, mot on the ico,
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—_— a | What one was a women. Her companions seemed to be urging lier te follow, but she stood upon the bulwarks gazing out toward the open sea, watching the huge masses of ice as they crumbled off and floated away. A portion of the party now attempted to make their way to the iand, but others remained to urge the lady who re- mained to follow. But she seemed deaf to entreaties or blind to her danger. The ice had cracked away close to the steamer—she seemed to totter and reel as if about to be plunged into the yawning gulf, and still the fated being, Donna Elementa, moved not. Her childish ofd husbund stood and shlrieked and tore his thin grey hairs—he was too weak to regain her side—the others made motions and shouted in vain for her to follow. Suddenly one who had stood beside Lady Wimsett left his rty, and returning to the steamer stood beside the Spanish lady. By his motions —for nothing could be heard in the dreadful turmoil—he was seen to urge her to leave the fated vessel, She smiled, pressed her hand to her bosom, and then pointed to the open se1, as if she would say that she sought death— “ that there she could bury sorrows which were too dark and wild for her to bear. Yet he was seen still to urge her, to point to the distant shore, and urge her at least to attempt to escape. Bat slie pointed toward the drivelling dotard on the ice—the husband whom she had been forced by a most cruel fate to wed—and scornfully laughed as if she would say, “Shall I live to be the wedded slave of such as he? Shall I live for such a loathsome fate ?” Then the young man was seen to kneel at her feet, to clasp her hand and press it to his lips—then her firmness seemed to Waver—she looked fondly down in his eyes—he seemed silently yet eloquently to plead—while she seemed to ask him some questions of strong import to herselfthe look and attitude seemed to ask, “Shall I live for thee ?” And his in return seemed to plead that she should quit that fearfully perilous place immediately. She seemed undetermined, but suddenly with a crash like thunder, the ice beneath them began to give way and the steamer slowly commenced to sink. Then those already on the ice turned and fled toward the main—the old man, cowardly as Le was dotardly, fleeing along with the rest. : Lord Wimsett waited no longer for her determifiation. He raised her lovely form in his arms and sprung from the sink- ing bark upon the firmer ice, ’ There one moment he paused—it was to_press his lips to hers—to receive in return a burning, passionate, firey kiss~ an embrace, too—too full of passionate fondness. ' Then while the fated steamer,.with her cracked and shivered hull sunk forever from sight, they two passed on, slowly but cautiously passing over the packed ice toward the land, fole lowing the others, some of whom had nearly gained the shore, When the Walkallah saw that the people from the wrecked steamer would gain the shore in safety, he gave orders to the few that knew his real name not to mention it to the strangers, and stated to his daughter his determination never to see any of them. He did not wish to be known or to awaken any recollece tions of the land he had left and foresworn forever. He gave orders, iowever, to extend to the strangers the most liberal hospitality, and not only to yield them present succor and shelter, but to give them food, clothing and arms, and whatsoever they should need, and to bid them consider his dwelling their home so long as they should be forced sat va alone he reserved for Lis own use, and inter- dicted all visitations to these—his library and his bed-room. Giving these directions to his steward and daughter, he hastily left the cliff and returned to his rooms—to hide hime self from the new-comers. THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. Meantime, slowly and with great difficulty, the party from the ship were approaching the shore, but still they proceeded. safely onward. The first who touched the land was Captain Swop, and upon his arm hung Migs Priscilla Prime. 3 The Yankee turned as soon as he was safe, and seeing that the steamer had sunk, exclaimed, in a bitter tone, ‘‘She’s gone, consarn it, she’s gone !” ““Who’s gone—the stuck up Spanish woman?” asked the old maid, “No; the blasted steamer, with all my traps aboard—hain’ a cussed thing left to open trade with.” The next who reached the shore was Prime—he took one glance at the hearty looking English servants and smiled, “ They aren’t starving here—no more short allowance,” he cried, The other party, headed by Capt. Lonsdale arrived a moment. after. The latter, as soon as he Janded, hurried up the shore and ade dressed himself to the steward of the Walkallah. “ Where are we?” he asked, ‘Is there a ship here, or is this a trading port ?” “Neither, your honor,” said the old steward “ but we have room for ship-wrecked people, and also, every comfort which ye may need.” as “Yes,” said the beautiful daughter of the Walkallah,“though my father is indisposed to receive strangers in person, he has bidden me make them welcome.” “Your father, lady P’ cried Lonsdale, gazing with pleased surprise on the beautiful being who stood before him. “ Who is he?” “One who will be giad to afford aid to you and your party,” replied the maiden, “but whose namé will be of no use to you, He has chosen to bury himself from the world—fate: has brought you hither, he opens his doors to the suffering, but would not be questioned as to what he now is, or what he has been.” “In the name of my passengers and crew I thankfully ae cept the proffered hospitality. replied Lonsdale, still gazing on the lovely girl with undisguised admiration. “The steward wil] usher your party to my father's dwelle ing—permit me now to retire and prepare for your reception, for I see Jadies in your company!’ said the young girl, and she hastily retired, leaving the servants to aid the landing of the strangers, and usher them to the cave. All of the party were on shore before Donna Elementa and Lord Wimsett crossed the ice Mr. Frost stood on the shore, leaning for support against a huge pine tree, and gazing at them with undisguised anger, as arm in arm they approached, apparently engaged in calm conversation. The old man advanced as they reached the shore. “T suppose I've you to thank, my lord, for bringing my deary on shore,’ he cried in a spiteful tone, “There is no need of thanks, sir; I am more than paid by the pleasure I feel in seeing her in safety,” replied the nobleman, “Well, sir—my lord, I mean; I’m much obliged to you— that is—thank ye! Dcary, come with me,” and he attempted to take the arm of his wife. But she indignantly thrust him off, saying, ~ “You deserted me on the wreck to save your miserable reme nant of a life; leave me to myself Now, if you please.” “But, deary, it was so dreadful——”"_, i “Let us move on!” said Lonsdale, interrupting all. “We now have a comfortable shelter offered us, which is close at. hand” “Excuse me, Donna Elementa,” said Lord Wimsett. “ My mother needs my attention now.” The lady only bowed, but if ever eyes spoke, then did hers in volumes of thankfulness as she returned his glance. And yet the look he cast on her was cold and passionless; he did not return ler burning glances, his face did not flush. up like hers as he spoke. The whole party were now safely landed, and they passed . over the hill to the dwelling of the Walkallah, — ue ‘ Ni
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=—5 = THE CAMP-PIRE LIBRARY. 21 We will not pause to explain their Cat at seeing the ice-palace, or their astonishment upon finding the dwelling, so singular and yet so comfortable, in the hill of anthracite, but we have but a short space to tell a long story in, and must condense as much as possible, leaving much to the ime agination of our readers. CHAPTER XIV, LOVE AND MATRIMONY, ‘Tr was another day The passengers of the “ Lost Steamer” hhad all been assigned comfortable apartments in the dwelling of the Walkallah. His servants, it is true, had been crowded a little closer. many new arrangements had been made, but the new-comers had been made comfortable. although somewhat at the ex- pense of comfort and disarrangement of those who had be- fore occupied the apartments The Walkallah had carefully confined himself to his rooms, and had not seen any of the strangers, He was in his library at the hour when we choose te lift the curtain of this chapter, and his young daughter had just entered. “ Well, child,” said he as she came in, “are these strangers comfortably settled ?” “Yes, dear father, as well as the room rill permit. Ossini« wa has encamped among the pines on the hill,and the crew ef the vessel are in the ice palace. The captain and the a sengers are herein the cave along with us!” “How many—who are they ?” “There are many, father. There are three ladies—one who is sick I have not seen yet—another one is very beautiful, and the third isn’t so pretty.” “ Did you ask their names ?” ‘No, father—as I had to refuse to tell yours, I hated to ask theirs.” “Tt is as well—what do I care for their names? Have you geen to their wants—have they food and clothes ?” “Oh yes, father! There was one such funny man amongst them. He ate more than all the rest, and then kept asking Robert if we had more, if there was no danger of being put on short allowance,” “ Poor fellow !—had been half-starved on board the wreck, maybe.” “T suppose go, sir. year.” “ Well, Annie, now that you have seen them, what do you think of your countrymen ?” 5 The girl blushed, but replied without hesitation, . * There are two or three, sir, that look very noble and very ‘handsome—the rest look just like our servants! The captain is very handsome !” <a “Then be cautious and don’t fall in love iis him.” “Tn love, sir—what’s that—how do you mean ?” “Why, child, don’t love him more than you do me.” **Oh never—never! dear father!” cried the fair girl. The old man paused and sighed deeply. “Why do you sigh, dear father?” adked the affectionate girl, “have I offended you P” 4 ‘No, no, dear Annie!” replied he. “I was thinking how unjust it is in me to bury you, who are so lovely, from the He ate as if he’d been starved for a ts world. ir “But, dear father, I am happy here with you, I do not wish _ to gointo the world. How often you have told me it was dark and full of sin and misery. “True, ebild.’ at rae © Did it not drive you from it, dear father; or rather, did you ¢ not leave mA in anger and disgust?” ; ; , Annie, yet with all its clouds and miseries, \ere past, and listening to your lessons. Dear father,I have not missed the world.” “ Bless you, child! may the Almighty bless you!” said the father, tearfully. ‘‘ Now leave me to myself for a while and see if you can give aid to those who are cast upon our hospitality.” The daughter kissed her father’s pale brow—then turned and left him, It was a rich scene, indeed, when Mr, Prime gat down to the first meal in the Walkallah’s dwelling. He ate as greedily as if he expected at once to be placed on short allowance again; he drank as if he thought this was a chance which might come no more, and consequently must be improved, Captain Swop ate heartily, but his attention was much taken up with the table furniture, &. “ Be these rale silver?” he asked of a servant, raising some of the heavy forks and spoons. “ Yes, sir,” said the servant, vainly attempting to hide a sinile. “Then this ’ere Mister What-d'ye-call-him is rich,” The servant nodded a reply, and then hurried to obey Mr. Prime, who wanted another slice of BEEF, as he called the choice piece of roast musk ox which graced the head of the table. “ Well,” said Swop, “if he is rich, I wonder if he wouldn’t lend me some capital to set up on. There are lots of Indi- ans in these ere diggins —if I could git a start wonst, I’d go ahead as sure as Crockett! But I ’spose he will want security, and all that!” “I could give him that if we were only in Old England k” said Priscilla, with a sigh. “Ihave ten thousand pounds im the stocks there.” “Ten thousand pounds—four times nought is nought, four times nought is nought and nuthin to carry, four times nought is nought; and once more—four times one is four. Why, let me see !—multiplied by 484—that’s the way to do it—why, you’re worth forty-eight thousand four hundred dol- lars. “ Yes, but it is in England,” sighed the maiden. “Never mind, we’re on terrry firmy now, and travelling is cheap in this country, I'll bet a cooky! You'll git to England afore you’re married yet.” “T hope not!” sighed the old maid. Then looking as tenderly as she could, she added, “Have you forgotton what you said aboard the steamer, © ~ Solomon ?” “Oh, no!” replied Swop, “ but we hain’t got no minister here: to marry us!” “ But they must have one here. There are people and children here, so there must be somebody to marry em!” said — Priscilla, with another dreadful attempt at looking sweet, - “ Hain’t seen nuthin but Ingun babies; guess there ain’t no white ’uns,”’ said Swop. “ How do they marry ?” asked Miss Prime. « What, the Inguns ?” “Yes.” “ Oh, they jump over the broomstick, I reckon, Never hearn tell of no other way.” “Tf people really Jove,” continued Priscilla, “I don’t see as it makes very much difference by what form they are mar- ried.” “Well, it ought to be lawful !” said Swop ; “if it ain’t,you see, the man can’t git no hold on the woman's property !” x Yes, but people that aré in love don’ t think much. about money.” < Wall, I ede know} cay er are allers thinking of E money.” “T’d not care for money if I could get plenty to eat and- ¥ drink ‘warranted to me es the term sa ‘my nateral life |” said es
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22 what’s usual.” “Tf I get my own, I can take care of myself!” said Prime. “and if I ever get into Old England, blast my eyes if ever L leave it again.” “ Where’s Mister Frost, I wonder !” said Priscilla, looking around. “There’s his wife talking to the young lord, and the old man ain’t in sight. I do declare such conduct is shameful.” “The old man is sick abed ; I reckon he’s agoin to make a die on’t,” said Swop. “ And here’s his wife a cuttin’ up with other men, when he, poor cretur, is sick. If my husband was sick (here Prise cilla looked desperately tender at Swop), I'd never for a minute leave him.” “ Ah, you are a posy, Prissy,” said Solomon, in a tender tone. “ You e’en-a’most make me forget my misfortins.” “T will, dear Solomon! for oh! I—I never loved before !” lisped the bashful maiden, in tones too low for the others to hear. At this moment Mr. Tyrone, who had been abroad some time, entered. “ Where have Aa been, Mr. Tyrone ?” inquired the young lord. “Och ! is it Be I’ve been you'd like to know P_ I’ve been ander ground and above ground, and amongst the ea -col- ored gentlemen, and all the time making inquiries an’ using my peepers, seeing what chance we have to get out of this could counthry.” _ “ Well, what is the result of your observations ?” “ Why, divil the bit can I see a result at-all, at-all. There’s no boats. The ould gintleman that’s turned hermit here, de- sthroyed everything of the kind, for fear his people would Jave him and his darter to themselves.” “ By-the-way !” said Lonsdale, who was sitting near, “ his daughter is the loveliest creature [ ever laid my eyes on.” “She is beautiful,” said Wimsett, warmly ; “ and she seems to be very pure and artless.” The eyes of the Spanish woman flashed fire as she heard the young lord speak thus warmly, but she said nothing. “And so you made no discoveries of a way to get home?” continued Lonsdale. “No,” replied Tyrone, “I talked to the big Indian, who calls himself the War Agle—the American Agle he might betther say—about,marching down overland. But he shook his head and said, ‘ Snow too much—eat too little,” CHAPTER XV. — SCENES IN THE CAVB, A MONTH had gone by. The reader, of course, will be anxious to know how it passed with all of our characters during this time, but we are sorry to say that we can’t accommodate them, having for the whole period been absent ourself from the scene of action. But at the close of this period we will let you into quite a variety of “secret sessions,” and will do so, not having the fear of any inquisitorial senate before our eyes, or feeling | the slightest danger of being wngentified. A month had passed—and how? Let the reader judge par- tially from the following scenes, In one of the larger parlors of the anthracite cave, gat two persons. None others were in the room. One was Frank Lonsdale, the other was the Walkallah’s lovely daughter. The former had been reading from a book which he still held in his band, and the rich glow-of pleasure which was on the cheek of the sweet girl, proved that she had been a pleased and willing listener. The book must have been Walter Scott’s master-piece, “Tvanuor,” for Captian Lonsdale, laying it dewn, asked this question # Which character do you” ike best, Miss Annie, that of ’ “Rowena or Rebecca?”. ; : gees seed cies she young, zen . She is all life, oan THE CAMP-FIRE LIBRARY. anode common, substantial board—nothing extra, more than 1 eand beauty—she i is so ardent, yet so pure—so noble, yet so simple; who could help loving her! Rowena is lovely, and grand, and all that; she is as virtuous as one of our ice- bergs, and almost as stately; but I can see nothing dovadle in her. “You really reason most unlike one who has been buried in solitude, as you say you have,” said Lonsdale, with a smile, “T have not been buried in guite solitude ?” said Annie. “I have had my father and books —oh, plenty of books —dear companions they have been to me.” “Tt is strange, then, that you have never read this book before,” ‘Oh, I have!” replied the natural girl, “I have read it over and over several times.” “Then why did you not tell me so—I would have sought some other volume.” “T cared not what you read, so that you did read !” replied Annie. “It was your voice I wished to hear.” And then, as if feeling that she had said too much, the young girl blushed up to her very brow. “Dear, dear Annie! even for a newly accepted lover, you flatter me too much !” “Tt is not flattery ; it is just as I feel!” replied the artless “girl. “ God bless you !” ejaculated the sailor; “in losing my coun- try and the friends whom I may never see again, I have been more than repaid in finding you!” Annie had not time to reply ere another person entered the room. j It was young Lord Wimsett. He was pale, very pale, when he entered, but his face flushed very much when he saw An- nie, and the familiar manner in which she sat, with her hand- upon the knee of young Lonsdale. The beautiful girl had evidently made more conquests than one. Lord Wimsett conquered his confusion in an instant, and advancing, said to Lonsdale, “ Tyrone is looking for you everywhere, Captain. He has got some new kink in his head about building a vessel out of pines, to take advantage of a warm summer, if such a thing could be. The poor fellow is nearly crazy about his wife and children” = ‘‘ Yes!” said Lonsdale, “ he is a noble, warm-hearted fel- low ; where is he now ?” “T left him up in the grove, pow-owing with the Eagle chief.”’ “T’ll go and see the poor fellow,” said Lonsdale, Then, after pressing Annie’s hand warmly, he departed. The young lord took the seat he had just vacated, and see. ing that Annie arose as if to depart, said, “Surely you are not going to fly now, fair lady, and cen me alone!” “I was going to my father—I have left him alone all the morning,” replied Annie, not reseating herself. “ But, dear lady, if you please, I pray you to remain a few moments here. I have purposely sent Lonsdale off to get an interview with you” “Then Mr. Tyrone did » 4 ask you to seek for him ?” “No, lady.” a “Then, sir, I regret that you have taken so much saute ‘ as to utter a falsehood to gain an interview with me,” ree plied the young gir], her eye flashing as she spoke. “I did not speak fald@ly, lady,” replied the young lord, red- dening up “I heard Mr. Tyrone speaking of a vessel, and though he did not ask to find Captain Lonsdale, still I pened him inquiring for him If you knew my reasons for craving _ interview, perhaps you would not so quickly blame me.” “ What are those reasons, sir ?” asked the young ie “Be seated, and I will unfold them,” said he. The young girl seated herself, and’ waited ina quiet, ant not in a very anxious manner. > The young lo1a attempted to take her | hand Sader be com- cea menced speaking, but she quietly withdrew it from grasp. “ You seem to dislike me, Jady ?” he said, sadly. ie 5 “No, sir; oh no, sir; I dialike:t no Peg = SFekgon see me gre is yt cio at
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0, my lord ! never except when you are too ardent!” . «Too alfienity lady P” said the young lord—" if 1 have for ond overstepped the bounds of courtesy, forgive me.”. Tou have not, my lord, but yet—I speak plainly—you hafe given signs of a feeling I must not, cannot encourage. You mean of love ?” ‘ Yes, my lord; of a love which is useless. As friends, we why meet and enjoy the society of each other; but lay a Jover you seek my company, our intercourse must cease, » “ Will you hear @ short history from me, lady 7” ’“ Certainly, sir; anything but the subject of which I have jast. spoken.” ; “T will try to refrain from it, Since my earliest boyhood, the-Fates seemed to have marked out for me a path of dark- ness and sorrow. My childish days were spent in banishment from home. I never but once, and then in anger, remember to have seen my father. _ Lhave never, until I met you, found a being, save my wretched mother, whom I could love.” “You say your mother, who is so strange, and even yets in spite of sickness and sorrow, is said to be beautifal, is wretched. Why is she so?” ; “J cannot say. There is a secret which I cannot speak, Were you my wife, lady, I would.” - 4 “Then the secret never will be mine “ Never! Oh, how like a death-knell to all my fondest hopes sounds that one word !” “Jam sorry—yet it would be cruelty to encourage where !” ‘there can be no hope.” “ And yet, lady, we have known each other but one short month—not time enough to form a judgment. How can you cast me off before you know me ?”’ The young girl smiled, for the young lord had forged an argument against himself. “ How can you offer to take me in so short atime, If we have been known to each other too short a time to form a judgment, how can you offer, as you already have, to make me your wife! How can you take me before you know me.” “Oh, I knew you to be pure and beautiful when I first looked at you=T felt that you was made to suit one like me, to bea beacon to lead me away from darkness and sorrow into the ‘paths of joy and happiness.” “T am sorry, my lord, that I cannot feel so. I belong to my father—I have never had any one else to love, or even to assoqiate with, until your company were driven here by a pad fate.” ; “Do you call it sad, lady ?” . “Yes, for you who have been used to 2 gay and bright world, Poor Mr. Tyrone thinks it sad enough; all of your company, save yourself, alone, perhaps, think it sad !” “Does Captain Lonsdale regard-it as very unfortunate %” Annie blushed atthe question, but replied, « Jt is indeed’a deep misfortune for him to lose the vessel with which he was entrusted in command, and to see.the mourning Passengers, whom he expected to land in safety om the other side of the water.” “Bat if I may judge from his manner, he finds himself very much consoled in your company,” said the young lord, bitterly. _ “Sir, you are impertinent in your insinuations,” “Forgive me; Miss Annie! forgive me; I was indeed im- pertinent and wrong !” cried"the young lord, casting himself upon his knees before the angry girl. “Rise, sir, rise! There ig but one to whom you should - kneel — the One Who has preserved you through peril and danger, Rise, sir, rise!” Y “Twill not, lady, til] you hava forgiven me my presump tion. . “Then, sir, rise; I forgive you, but do not speak 80 again.” “T will not, lady; but ere I rise, I pray you to look more favorably on my suit. In all honor and respect I have told wy rai now——” Why dia the young girl start to her feet and blush deeper, — redder than ever? Why dia her voice tremble with agitation ™ as she ctied, Pe “Do ger ap, sit; 0 get up—see, you are observed.” ‘The dark gyes of Donna Blemenia bad Hasled upon her, -~ and they were strangely bright as they swept over those twe forms when she opened the door. She looked but one moment, then turned away without en- tering. “T fear that woman,” said Annie to Lord W., who had sprung to his feet. “She seeme to hate me.” “She would not, could not Siurt you!” said the young lord, “ She has seemed a little wild since we buried her husband.” “ Not with grief for him, for she would not even follow him to the grave.” “ Trne, but she ie & strange woman !” “ She is,” said Annie, * and I fear her.” Again she flushed up—a voice was heard and it seemed to be in anger. It was her father’s, and ‘he evidently was coming to that apartment, for he called her name. “TI do not wish to have him see vou here,” said Annie: “he has bidden me to avoid the company of young men.” “1 will leave the room—I will go into the next,” said the young lord quickly. “Oh no—’tis the library — he Jets none but me go in!” cried Annie; but she was too late; the young lord had already gone, and the next moment her father entered the room. His cheek was pale, but a red spot in the centre of his brow, and compressed lips, denoted his anger. “So, girl,” he said, “ you have disobeyed my express ° marids—you have not only permitted the attention of onelof these strangers, but actually given and avowed your love for him. f “What do you mean, my father ?” “That which I have said—I have just granted an interview +o this young Lonsdale, as he calls himself, who claims rela- tionship with the Litchfield nobles, and he asks your hand, He says you have given him your love already.” * Well, father !” “ Well—do you think it is well/ and will you desert me in ‘@y old age, who have reared you so kindly and tenderly ?” * Desert you! dear father? Never! never!” cried the are dent girl, bursting into tears and clasping her arms around her father’s neck, ’ “Never! never!” she reiterated, kissing him fondly over and over again. “ But if you love another he soon will draw you away from me—soon take your love away from me.” “Then, father, dear father, I will try not to love him! Ob, if it kills me I will try not to love him—I will see him no more.” . She gasped and turned pale as she spoke. The father saw it and asked, “Why did you love him, child ?” “Oh, father, he was so like the heroes you have read to me of—he seemed so proud and brave, so pure and yet so fond, and he told me he loved ME. Can one refuse to give love for love ?” The young girl had forgotten that only a moment earlier she had refused love for love. * Her father-was speechless either with astonishment or rage. ; The fair maid eg ta not what to think—much leas what to utter. \ Here we must close our tale, The jealous Spanish woman, learning she had lost the game, attempted to send all to the other world by blow- ing up the Ice King’s magizine, but foiled in this fiendish scheme, she cast herself into the sea. Wakullah grew fond of the young lord, and finnally resolved to leave his icy home, renounce the vow he had taken never to visit the world, and go back to England. A vessel came oppor- tunely on which all embarked. Frank and Annie were married as were also Captain Swop and the old maid. Tyrone was the best man to both. The secrets of all were satisfactorily explained, and here we may leave them in happiness. - THE END. 23
Page 24
EADLE'S*},)IME*|IBRARY. Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Soll at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers, BUFFALO BILL NOVELS. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, 994 Buffalo Bill's Lone Hand, 989 Buffalo bil’s Marked Bullet. 934 Buffalo Bill's Life Reffle, 979 Buifalo Bill's Reledtless ‘Trail. 94 Buffa'o Bil'’s Invincibles, 960 Buffalo Biil’s Lbluc Belt Brigade. 956 Buffalo Bili's Volunteer Vigilantes. 959 Buffalo Bil at Bay. 943 Buffalo Bill's Block Game. $36 Buffalo Bills Black Pard. 927 Buffalo Bill’s Bluff; or, Dusky Dick the Sport, 921 Buffalo Bill's Quandary sor. Velvet Bill’s Vow. 915 Buffalo Billand the Surgeon-Scont. 909 Buffalo Bill’s League;*or, Red Butterfly: 904 Buffalo Bill’s Tangled Trail. 900 Buffalo Bill’s Rough Riders: 395 Buffalo Bill’s Secret Ally. 890 Buffalo Bill's Life-Stake. 882 The Three Bills: Buffalo ii) Wild Billand Band- box Bill; or, The Bravo ini Broadcloth, 874 Buffalo /dil’s Buckskip Braves 869 Baffalo Bill’s Road-Agent Round-up, 863 Buffalo Bill's Dea bh ‘Charm. 857 Buffalo Bill's Royal Flush. 851 Boffalo Bill's louble Dilem: a. We 845 Buffalo Bill's Redskin Rus 830 Buffalo bill's Bovs in Blue.. - $26 Buffalo Bi'l’s Sharp Shooté 822 Buffalo Dill’s Best Bower. 816 Buffalo Bil’s Red Trail, . 812 Buffalo Bill's Death-Knev®* 794 Buffalo Bil’s Winning Hana te enero poh seen Shot. | -- uffalo Bills Brand. Bs 777 Buffalo Bill’s Spy S dower, 769 Buffalo Bill's Sweep&take. °°" *. 765 B ffalo Bits Dezen; oF,-Silk RibBon 761 Buffalo-Bil¥s Mascot. * * 757 Bulfato Bill's Double, 750 Buffalo BUYs Eig Four; or, Custer’s Shadow. 743 Buffalo Bill's Tlash Hand. 739 Buffalo Lill’s Blind: or, The Masked Driver, 735 Buffalo Bill end His Merry Men, 731 Buffalo Bill's Beagles: or, Sil Lasso Sam, 727 Buffa'o Bil’s Rody Guard. 722 Buifato Bill on the We¥-path. 716 Bnffalo Bill’s Scout Shadowers, 710 Buffalo Bill Baffled: or. The Deserter Desperado. 697 Buflalo)ill’s Buckskin Brotherhood, 691 itnffalo Bili’s lilind Trail; or, Mustang Madge, 667 Buifalo Bill’s Sweop; or, The King of the Mines. 658 The Cowb:y Clan; or, The Tigress of Texas. 653 Lass> King’s League; or, Buck Taylor in Texas. 64) Butfalo Bil’s Chiefof Cowboys; or, Buck Taylor 644 Buffalo Bill’s Poranza;or. Si ver Circle Knights, 262 Buffala Biles Grip;-or, Gath Bound to Custer. 329 Buffalo, Bill’s Pledge; or. The League of Three, 18) “ ild Bill's Gold Trail; or, The Desperate Dozen. 175 Wild BHl's Trunip Card: or, The Indian Heiress, 168 Wild Bill, the Pistol Dead Shot, By Buffalo Bill, 3 The Dtead Shot Four 969 Texas Jack, the Lasso King 839 The Ranch, King Dead-Shot, 820 White Beavet’s Still Hunt: 807% Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist. 800 Wild Lili, the Dead-Center Shot, €39 Buffalo Bill's*Gota'Kang. 599 The Dead Shot-’ine; or, My Pards of the Plains, 414 Red Renard, the indian Detective. 401 One-Armed Para; or, Borderland Retribution, 397 The Wizara Brothers: or, White Beaver's Trail, 394 White ver, the Exile of the Platte. 319 Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. 304 Texas Jack, the Prairie Rattler, 3 The Pilgrim Sharp; or, The Soldier's Sweetheart. 88 Gold Bullet Svort;. or, Knights of the Overland, 58 Déath-Tralier, the Chief of Scouts. By Leon Lewis, Ned Buntline, etc. 773 Buffalo Bal’s Ban; or, Cody to the Rescue, 682 Buffalo Bill’s Secret Service Trail. 629 Buffalo Bill’s Daring Role; or, Daredeath Dick. 517 Buffalo Bill's: Pirst:Trail; or; Lhe Express Rider. 158 Buffalo Bill, Chief cf Scouts, _ 117 Buffalo Rill s Strange Pard; or, Dashing Dandy, 92 Buffalo Bill, the Buckskin King, BY HAROLD PAYNE. 883 The aie from Mexico.in’ New York. 872 The King-Pin Shark; or, Thad Burr’s 861 The Tenderloin Big Four 853 The Quaker City Crook. #44 Tracked to Chicago. 836 The Policy Broker's Blind. 820 The Frisco Sharper’s Cool Hand. 821 The Tramp Shadower's Backer. 813 The Sham Spotter’s Shrewd Scheme. 805 The Grand Street Gold-Dust Sharpers. 798 Detective Burr’s Luna ic Witness 792 The Wail Street Sharrer’s Snap, 784 Thad Burr’s Death Drop, , 742 Detective Burr Among the New York Thugs. 734 Detective Burr's Foil; or, A-Woman’s Strategy. 728 Detective Burr, the Fleadquarters Special. 713 Detective Burr's Spirit Chase. 06 Detective Burr’s Seven Clues, 698 Thad Purr, the Invincible; or, The “*L” Clue, 690 The Matchless Detective, 680 XX, the Fatal Clew; or, Burr’s Master Case. Ten Strike, BY COL. THOMAS H. WONSTERY, 995 The Czar’s Spy.* 986 Iron Wrist, the Swordmaster, y 236 Champion Sam; or, The Monarchsof the Show, 150 El Rubio Bravo, King of the Swordsmen. BY J W. OSBON., 987 Shadrach, the Sport Detective. 922 Gilbert Goldspur, the Dandy Sport. 905 Shasta Sam, the Sparkier, 877 Cool Creede, rTP a a ag , the “Thoroughbred "$23 The Athlete Sport About BY CAPTAIN HOWARD HOLMES. 929 Gentleman George, the Showman Sport, 912 Genteel Joe’s Lone Hand, ? 903 The Train Detective. 896 Kent Keen, the Crook-Crusher. 888 Nightshade in New York. 879 Falcon Flynn, the Flash Detective. 871 The Crook Cashier, e 859 Clew-Hawk Keene’s Right Bower. 847 Hiram Hawk, the Harlem Detective, 840 Major Bullion, Boss of the Tigers, 831 Shadowing the London Detective. 817 Plush Velvet, the Prince of Spotters, 803 The Bogus Broker’s Right Bower. + 78 The Night-Hawk Detective. 779 Silk Ribbon’s Crush-out, 766 Detective Zach, the Broadway Spotter. 751 The Dark Lantern Detective, 736 The Never-Fail Detective. 724 Captain Hercules, the Stroig Arm Detective. 711. Dan Damon, the Gilt-Edge Detective; 701 Silver Steve, the Branded Sport. ALBERT W. AIKEN’S NOVELS, Dick Talbot Serica, 991 Dick Talbof at the Mines: or, Kentuék, the Sport, 983 Roeky whe. ep Reb 976 Overland Kit; or,.The Idyl of White Pine. 741 Dick valbot’s Close Call, 73% Die Talbot in, Apache | snd. 733 Dick Talbot. the Ranch King. 729 Diek Talbot’s Clean-Out. 725 Dick Talbot in No Men’s Camp, 854 Dick Talbot; o1, The Brana OF Crimson Gross 36 Dick Talbot;:or, The Death-Shot of Shasta. Alken’s-Fresh of Frisco Series. | 8% Tresh, the Race-Track Sport, 660 The Fresh in Montana; «r, Blake's Full Hand, 652 T: éFresh’s Rustie at Painted City. 647 The Fresh at Santa Fé; cr, 1h’ Sirange~ Sharp, 556 Fresh, the Sport: or, The Big Racket at Side Out. 587 Fresh Against the Field: or, Blake, the Lion. 497 The Fresh in Texas; or. The Escobedo Millions, 694 Gideon Grip, the Secret Shadower, 684 Velvet Van, the Mystery Shadower, 678 The Dude Desperado oy 671 Jason Clew, the Silk-Handed Ferret, Monk Morel, the Man-Hunter. 654 Sol Sphinx, the Ferret Deteetive, 642 Red Pard and Yellow. 608 Silent Sam, the Shadow Spliinx. 592 Captain Sid, the Shasta Ferret. 579 Old Cormorant, the Bowery Shadow. 569 Captain Cobra, the Hooded Mystery. 559 Danton, the Shadow Sharp. 550 Silk Hand, the Mohave Ferret. 543 The Magnate Detective. 532 Jack Javert. the Independent Detective. 623 Reynard of Red Jack: or,The Lost Detective 512 Captain Velvet’s Big Stake. 505 Phil Fox, the Genteel Spotter. 496. Richard Redfire, the Two Worlds’ Detective. 487 Sunshine Sam, a Chip of the Old Bleck. 48) Hawkspear, the Man with a Secre:. 468 Coldgrip in Deadwood, 460 Captain Coldgrip, the Detective 453 Captain Coldgrip’s Long Trail, 447 Volcano, the Frisco Spy. ’ 441. The California Sharp. 434 Lucifer Lynx, the Wonder Detective, - 421 Father Ferret. the Frisco Shatiow. | 413 Captain Coldgrip in New York. 407 Captain Coldgrip’s Nerve; or. Tnjun Nick. | 400 Captain Coldgrip; or. The New York Spotter. 392 The Lost Bonanza; or, The Boot of Silent Hound. 382 The Bonanza Band: or, Dread Don of Cool Clan, 374 Major Blister, the Sport of Rwo Cities. 365 Keen Kennard, the Shasta Shadow. 352 The Desperate Dozen. | 347 Denver Duke, the Man with “Sand.” 340 Cool Conrad, the Dakota Detective. 335 Flash Dan, the Nabob, or, Blades of Bowie Bar. $21 California Claude, the Lone Bandit, 294 Broadcloth Burt. the Denver Dandy. $41 The Shadow Sport from Frisco, BY. WELLIAN H. MANNING. $48 The Red-Gloved Detective. 931 Frisco Frank at Glory Gulch. 20.The Montana Miner in New Work, 908 The Doomsday-Den Detective. ~ 899 The Double-Quick Detective. 893 Yellow. Gid, of Dark Divide, 885 ‘I'he Expert Detective'’s Shake-up, 875 Trapping the Race-Track Judge. 864 The Police Special’s Dilemma, 84% The Genteel Sharper’s Combine .- 841 Graydon’s Donble Deal. | 833 The Sport Detective’s ah 3 1 ‘own! 808 ‘TheCrook-Detective’s Pull, 790. Plunger Pete, the Race Track Detective, 782 Royal Rock, the Round-up-Detective. 774 Steve Starr, the Dock Detective. 764 The New York Sharp’s Shadower, 738 Detective Claxton, the Record Breaker. 714 Gabe Gall, the Gambolier from Great’'Hump, 703 Spokane Saul, the Samaritan Suspeys 692 Dead Shot Paul, the Deep-Range Ex 655 Strawberry Sam, the Man with the 646 Dark John, the Grim Guard.. 638 Murdock, the Dread Detective. 623 Dangerous Daye, the Never-Beaten Detective. 611 Alkali Abé, the Game Chicken from Texas, 596 Rastler Rube; the Round-Up Detective. 585 Dan Dixon’s Double. 57o Steady Hand. the Napoleon lorer, —_ irthmark, of Detectives 563 Wyoming Zeke, the Hotspur_of Honeysuckle. | 551 Ga Kean the Man with Backbone, 539 Old Doubledark, the Wily Detective. 531 Saddle-Chief Kit, the Prairie Centaur, 521 Paradise Sam, the Nor’-West Pilot. 513 Texas Tartar, the Man With .Nine Lives, 506 Uncle Honést, the Peacemaker of Hornets’ Nest. 498 Central Pacific Paul, the Mail Train Spy. 492 Border Bullet, the Prairie Sharpshodter, 486 Kansas Kitten, the Northwest Detective, 479 Gladiator Gabe, the Samson of Sassajack. 470 The Duke of Dakota. = 463 Gold Gauntlet. the Gulch Gladiator, 455 Yank Yellowbird, the Tal) Hustler of the Hills, 449 Bluff Rurke, King of the Rockies. ~ 442 Wild West Walt, the Mountain Veteran. 437 Deep Duke; or, The Man of Two Lives, 427 The Rivals of Montana Mill. - 1008 gage or, | AL 1 « t0M Buffalo Bill’s Death Deal. By Col. Ingrabam. 461 The Fresh of Frisco on the Rio Grande, 97 The Fresh in Big Walnut Camp; or, Bronze Jack Aiken’s Joe Phenix Sertes, 965 Joe Phenix's Mascot. 959 Joe Phenix’s Double Deal, 954 Joe Phenix in Chicago. $49 The Doctor from T. xas; or, Joe Phenix's Clue, 944 Joe Phenix’s Right Bower. 885 The Female Barber Detectiv ; or, Joe Phentx in Silver giz. 799 Joe Phenix’s Great Blue Diamcnd Case; or, The New York Sport. at Long Branch. 793 Joe Phenix’s eee or, The Manu of Three. 760 Joe Phenix’s Lone and. 749 Joe Phenix’s Big Bulge. 745 Joe Phenix’s Mad Case, 708 Joe Phenix's Siren; or, The Woman Hawkshaw, 700. Joe Phenix’s Unktown; or, Crushing the Crooks 681-Joe Phenix’s Specials; or, The Actress Detective 637 Joe Phenix in Crazy Camp. 632 Joe Phenix’s Master Search. 628 Joe Phenix’s Combin, ;«r,the Dandy Consp’rater 620 Joe Phenix’s Silent Six. 601 Joe Phenix’s Shadow; or,the Detective’s Monitor 419 Joe Phenix,, the King of Detectives. 161 Joe Phenix’s Great Man Hunt, 112 Joe Phenix, Private Detectave; or, The League. 79 Joe Phenix, the Police Spy. Aiken’s Miscellaneous Noveis, 980 The All-Around Athlete, 940 Captain Jack, the Scalper 935 The Hawks and Wolves of New York 982 Detective Gordon’s Grip. 926. Qld Sunflower, the Silent Smiter. 923 Old Sunflower, the Hayseed Detective, 901 The Hotel Swell-Sbarp;cr, The Siren Shacower, 892 The Countryman Detective. . 876 Gold Button Sport; or, Dhe Miner Sharps. ~ 842 Teton Tom, the Half-blcod. 835 The King-Pin Detective, 814 The New Yorker Awong Texas Sports, 75 King Dandy, the Silver Sport. 753 Gideon’s Grip at Fabylon-] ar. 717 Captain Pat AreGow en, tl e Greencogt Detective, | 674 Uncle Sun Up, the Born Detective, 670 The Lightw eight Detective. . al 665 The Frisco Tetective; or, The Golden G .te Find, 613 Keen Billy, the Sport. : ; 607 Old Benzine, the: **\ Hard Case” Detective, 594 Wire Face, the Silver King’s Foe.- : 686 The Silver Sharp Detectives - +8. 577 Tom, of Calif crnia; or, Detective’s Shadow Act. 570 The Actress Detective; or, The InvisibleHand 562 Lone Hand, the Shadow. 520 The Lone Hand on the Caddo, 490 The Lone Hand in Texas. - 475 Chin Chin, the Chingse Detective, 465 The Actor Detective. , 440 The High Horve of the ic. fi 423 The Lone Hand; or, The Red River Recreants. 408 Doe Grip, the Vendetta of Death. cit! pe 381 The Gypsy Gen tleman: cr. Mick Fox, Detective 376 Black Beards; 01; The Rio Grende Bigh Horse 870 The Dusky Dete civee, ws Eurened to the Era. 363 Crowningshield, the Detective The Genteel Spotter; or The N. Y Night Hawk, 252 The Wali Street J lood; cr, The Telee pay Girl. 20% The Double Detective: cr,/The Mic higlt-_ Mystery, 196 La Marmoset, the i etectiye Queen, ; 101 The Man from New York. r 91 The Winning Oar; or, The pera 13 s Daughter, 84 Hunted Down; or, The League of Three, 81 The Human Tiger: or, A Heart of Fire. 75 Gentleman George; or, Parlcr. Prisen and Street, 72 The Phantom Hand; or, The 5th Avenue Herress, 56 The Indian Mazeppa; or, Madmen of the Plains, 49 The Wolf Demon; or, ‘The Kanawha Queen. 42 The California Detective: or, The Witches of WY, 31 The New York Sharp; or, The Flash of Lightning. 2% The Spotter Detective: or, Girls of New York. . NEW iSSUES. 1000 Buffalo Bill’s Grim Guard. By Col. Ingraham, 4001 The Brand-Burnersof Cimarron. By Jobn W. Osbon, 002 Silver City Sam. By Jos. B. Badger. i iol % Dick Talbot in Utah. By Albert. ~ 1005 Poot-Hills Frank, By Jos. 1, 415 Hot Heart, the Detective wi 2 405 Old Baldy the Brigadier o ek Basin. 297 Colorado Rube, the Strong Arm of 279 The Gold Dragoon, or, California BY NED BUNTLINE. 657 Long Tom, the Privateer. 633 The Sea Spire 621 The Red Privateer;.or, The Midshipman Rover. 584 Fire Feather, the Buccaneer King. 517 Buffalo Bill’s First il, $61 ‘Tombstone Dick, the Train Pilot. 122 Saul Sabberday, the Idiot a5 111 The Smuggler Captain; or, The Skipper’s Crime. 18 The ane dit; or, The Queen of the Isle, izard* or The Seminole Prop! Holey 1006 The Sea Cadet. By Col. P. Ingraham. JUST ISSUED. 96 Tnjun Dick, the Shasta Dead Shot, By Aiken. | 27 Sour ial, the Sport from Hard Luck. By rf Jos. B. er, Jr. 998 Captain Seawaif, Privateer. By Ned Bun Velvet Hand; or, The Iron Grip of 1 9 Dick, By Albert W. aiken” RS ‘A new issue every Vrdnesday. — THE PIME LIBRARY is for -Newsdealers, ten cents ver Cv}. ov sent by receipt of price. Ste -—- ~.)ai2asi% biden Suttle th caine Reto b eis ; = es