Beadle's New York Dime Library (no. 1035) (1900 04)
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p Ciass MATrer aT THE New York, N. Y N Sco iy A 9 (J 7 ENTERED AS , BY Beapite & ADAMS. Copyricut, 1878 ., Post OFFICE. No, 1036 «, Publishers, Vol. LAX. 10 Cents a Copy. $1.00 a Year. LOPRIETOR), New York, > I r CO LLIVAN, I Street, S BE 38 earl A) “ E a MES P 3 J Wa. Published Every Month. ay on st. A WILD LIFE ROMANCE, ” . BY “BUCKSKIN SAM
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2 it Carson, Jr., The Crack Shot of the West. A ROMANCE OF THE LONE STAR STATE, BY MAJOR §. S. HALT, [BUCKSKIN SAM. ] Right of Dramatization Reserved by the Author. CHAPTER, I. THE PRAIRIE RANGERS, The ae, agen ear, the piercing eye, The quick resolve in danger nigh; The speed that in the fight or chase, Outstripped the Charib’s rapid race, The steady brain, the sinewy limb T'o leap, to climb, to dive, to swim; The iron frame inured to bear Each dire inclemency of air, Nor less confirmed to undergo ‘Fatigue’s faint chill, and famine’s throe. My first scene opens half-way between Oak- ville and San Patricio, near the boundary line ef Live Oak County, and at the Nueces ford. The date—1860, when the American press ‘was engaged commenting on the probabilities of a | civil war, and little space was given for items from the Texas frontiers, The characters and names are of those who have lived or are now living. The incidents are unrecorded historical events that have come un- der my own personal observation; and I will say to those whoso honor me, by following my ink-trail, that I shall, in this story, depict fron- | tier life as it is, in the chaparrals and on the prairies of tho far Southwest—shall use no character who is not well known to myself, and to all old residents of that section of the country in which the scenes are laid. The Southern sun was just dipping in the west, its ‘bright rays filtering through the branches of the live-oaks, causing the long fes- The New York Library Fa pe ne a OEE aE Aa ET ENE LT TE See ee | said Capt. Donaldson, | fill at the creek. | row night, “Tt is about two leagues from this ford, Joe,” horses drink too much now; they can take their We'll jog along easy the re- mainder of the way. We will be sure to find the rest of the boys encamped there, and they will be expecting us, for we organize to-mor- -atricio in the morning, bright and early, for | ammunition—that is, if you will have recov- | | ered from our forced march.” | fray, but, at the same time, I’m on t toons of Spanish moss to cast strange shadows upon the sward, when a cavalcade of scouts, their mustangs weary and panting, slowly worked their way down the steep, treacherous bank of the Nueces river, and buried their nosesj.cyes deep, in the cool waters. Among these scouts are some who have made themselves famous, not only in Texas but throughout the United States. The magnificent man in front, with long, flowing hair, ruddy cheeks, and commanding mien, is Captain John Donaldson, a nephew of Senator Wigfall. Noxt behind, running his fingers caressingly through the mane of his wiry mustang, is Lieut. Cole McRay, almost a giant in stature, a bitter hater of everything pertaining to Reds or Greasers. Tho other three personages of our party are Reckless Joe, Texas Bill, and Bill Mann of He- lena—the latter a noted scout under Capt. Lit- tletown; the two former having just returned * from the Indian war, under Capt. Edward Burleson. <All theso are well known through Texas for noble deeds of daring. These five Texans are clad in buckskin, fringed, and beautifully embroidered, with red silk sashes twisted around the heavy leather belts, and dangling their long fringes at each side. The belts, with heavy silver clasps—upon which the star of Texas is heavily engraved— sipporsiug two large-sized Colt’s revolvers, and a long bowie-knife; a Sharpe’s carbine hangs with the lariat at the horn of the saddle; Blasi ets, tin cup, and canteen, on the cantel behind, show that the men are used to ‘roughing it,” and prepared to defend themselves against odds They presented, as seated upon their mus- tangs in the deep shadows of the live oaks, a sight that would Imve made a score of Greasers hunt their hole in the chaparrals, and cause their yellow cheeks to pale with fright. But, we will listen to the conversation of these Rangers, and learn more of them and their present object. “T say, Cap.,” said ‘ Reckless Joe,” ‘“how much farther do you call it to Banketta Creek? Tm about played myself, and my nag kinder hankers after a rest. I iw by the way he has stumbled, the last league. e very blood ‘within me seems to run sluggishly, and me eye- lids seem to have lost their grip. I was on the last watch, last night, and in fact have slum- bered but little since jeaving Sag Antonio.” Nore To Reapgrs.—It will bo observed that my oharacters fair English at times, and at oth- era use not but slang and clipped words. This fatras. Among frontiersmen are some who have fair education t when they are on the plains get into the it of using the same age quoler, ond thay get to nemo of patting on airs It name on out Sords which cannot be general “You just bet your last rial, ’m on hand, ‘“but, don’t let your | Bill, I want to send you down to | Cap., every time, for anything that will hasten | our march toward the Rio Grande. Tl spile if I don’t get a shot at some of them Greasers soon,” answered Bill Mann. “Don’t be too anxious,” said Donaldson. “Cortina has a big crowd with him, this time. They say he has all of seven hundred men, and he must have a formidable force, to invade a State, and burn and pillage the ranches for a hundred miles up, from the Reinosa ford.” ‘** But, we'll give him a histe, if Old Rip Ford | takes the lead, with our crowd,” added Mat | Nolans, ‘‘and we will drive the greasy cut- | throats and thieves into the river, and if they come out safe on the Mexican side, why, we'll follow them on their own ground. We've got to teach this Chaparral Fox a lesson that he will remember, or stock-raising won’t pay between the Nueces and the Bravo.” ‘Come on, boys! Come on!” said Reckless Joe» ‘‘Me soul isup in arms and eager for the he anxious seat, in regard to corn-pone, dried-beef, and coffee, Old Sol, the glorious orb of day, has traversed the blue vault of heaven majestic splendor, to-day, I must admit, but I think we could have dispensed with some of I’m not sorry he is now smiling upon the long- tailed denizens of the Chinese Empire. But I really like this part of the country. Had it not been for the live-oaks we should not have been | able to travel during the middle of the day. Now, boys, if some of these ak-mottes were only scattered permiscious-like on the prairies, we should not have had such rough times after the reds, ‘That’s so, Joe; but, we can’t have things as we want them in this world, or the next either, for that matter,” put in Texas Bill; ‘Sand we must not find fault with the Lone Star State, when we know it contains within its boundaries all kinds of soil, hill and dale, prairie and wood- land, and a person can suit) himself in locating. We have area enough for half a dozen king- doms, and can ride a thousand-miles in a direct line without crossing our. boundary.” During this conversation our scouts had gained the south side of the Nueces, rested their mus- tangs a short time, and headed toward Banket- ta Creek, which empties into the Nueces, (River of Nuts) below the ford, which the Rangers had crossed. With the reader’s permission we will dash ahead and take glance at the Ranger camp for which our scouts are marching. Just three miles above the little town of Ban- | ketta, which boasted at this time of one black- smith’s-shop, three grocery-stores, or bar-rooms, one billiard table, not exactly on the square, and half a dozen rough dwellings, was located the camp and rendezvous of the Rangers, who were organizing and fitting out against Cortina, the most successful bandit that ever invaded Texas, not excepting Cannales or Christophe Rublo. At this time Cortina was in command of the largest force of Mexican outlaws that had been on Texas soil since her annexation to the United States. His followers were of the lowest order of Mexicans, escaped peons, ladrones, and outlaws, whose acts of barbarity had sent 2 thrill of hor- ror up and down the Rio Grande, and a wild, leading ery for ranger protection had run hrough the land; hence the gathering of Rangers and scouts, under orders from Sam Houston, Governor and Father of Texas. As some of our readers may not be aware that real slavery still exists on the American continent, I will say a word in regard to the peon system of Mexico, that has been the means of recruiting the outlaw gangs. Under Mexican laws a person can pass froma citizen to that of a peon; from being the debtor of another he is made to occupy a position dif- fering but slightly from the condition of a slave. The difference is simply this: The slave can be transferred, for a given consideration, from one owner to another, while the peon can exchange masters only by an assignment of the debt he owes. Tho redemption of a peon from his obli- gation, however, is an event far less aaa ie oceur than a slave’s escape from bondage. The Rio Grande is the El Dorado of the ruhaway peon. There he makes war on both sides of the river, retreating to the opposite side as the one he chances to make his camp becomes too hot for him. But we will now return tothe Ranger camp, on the banks of Banketta Creek. camp presents to the eye Sedan Sar ntitiniel extreciely in most | I reckon | | walk | the splendor, without any inconvenience, and | (as they say in Texas), he would not know kh} was within the confines of the American Re: public, but would think himself dreaming over | some of the many scenes so faithfully painted by Rembrandt. A dozen camp-fires burned brightly, casting their brillant, pointed ray# through the branches of the oaks, flickering through the masses of Spanish moss—rioh drae peries for natyre’s chambers. By the trunks of these trees lean rifles of every make and caliber, and hanging from the brancli es are saddles, bridles, lariats, horns, pouches, canteens and tin cups, with all the accouter ments of war pertaining to man and beast; each and every article ready to slip from itg twig for immediate use in case of sade alarm. Serapes, with all the brilliant colers of tha rainbow, woven in their centers and borders, lay scattered around the camp. Gathered around the fires, cookiag, eatin smoking and joking, are three score of rout buckskinned sons of the Lone Star State, thei features bronzed by the Southern sun, and a thousand camp-fires, and now glowing in the light, which showed off their muscular, symmet rical forms, standing, or reclining in every po sition, their hearty laughter or loud halloo ring ing out on the night air. Just out from the timber, on the prairie, hére and there picketed, cropping the long, rich grass, are full a hundred mustangs. and mules, and be- yond these a line of scouts, flat on the ground, so as to easily observe the approach of any per- sons, friend or foe, from the prairie to the eas and south, which stretches level dnd unbrokea to the horizon, which can not now be distin- guished—earth and sky so blending together. ¥ will here state that a Ranger on guard does not 0st, as in the army, for ho could be easil picked off, or evaded by an Indian, who crawis up toa camp to reconnoiter, at times rising up like a ghost, to spy out the position. The Ranger has the advantage in a prairie country, for he can seo the Indian (on most nights in the South) outlined against the sky, he, the Ranger, being upon the ground in a reclining position. He would, if walking, give the Indian his exact po- sition, who could crawl up in the grass near his beat, jump out, and knife or tomahawk him in the back without alarming the camp. It is necessary for me to digress, at times, from my story to give the readey information in frontier affairs and customs, which I have not seen explained in other works of like char- acter. In the Ranger camp—which I have described —flitting from. fire to fire, or seated by tree- trunks, smoking their corn-cob pipes, are men who had lost their dearest ones on earth by Reds or Greaseys—men who ask for no quarter and give none, only. in rare instances—men who would gladly miss a day’s grub, or night's rest, for a ‘shot at either of these enemies of the Southern border. Leaning against a tree in the foreground, are two men directly opposite ia | character, yet both equally hate the Indian and Mexican. One is the giant borderman, Big Foot Wal- lave—with whom I have scouted on many a trail—as reserved, in fact morose, as ever. Will he ever recover from the massacre of his famj- ly? No. As long as he breathes he will fight for vengeance! The little wiry fellow at his feet, his tongue running like a New England shuttle, is Jim Bearfield, who will shed a tear of pity at the suffering of another, and the next minute fight like a fiend. Both men are always ready when needed for hot work, with lead or steel. But, what is this sudden commotion in canap? Men upon the ground leap to their feet and run for their rifles; revolvers are drawn quickly from scabbards; horses and mules are snorting, and the guard calling one to another. A clattering of hoofs from toward Banketta town—a wild, piercing, horrible yell—comes at intervals toward the camp, from out the ink blackness, or what seems so to the eyes whic have been looking at the fires. A single horseman is soon seen through the border of light thrown out from the camp, He is without a hat, his long hair fiving like a Co~ manche’s, his horse reeking with sweat, white with foam: the animal’s mouth is wide open, dripping blood, and_its eyes glaring- with a pieaaing look almost human in their a ony. What is the meaning of this awful sight? What is that which flashes in the light, in the hand of the rider, anddescends backward? Has he an enemy—a panther upon the horse? All gaze’ paralyzed, open-mouthed, at this strange horse and rider coming thundering ints camp. ‘Alt eye way; he pauses not, but with horrk ble yells, his bowie-knife rising high into the air, and descending into the poor beast’s hams, which are dripping white foam and red gore. Horse and rider, the former in @ staggering gallop, showing weakness, are seen but a mo- ment, leaping over fires and every thing in the way; then both vanish into the darkness, be- yond the camp, and up the creek—the maniac yells o vorineng retin Behe who hear, and making. very bloed to in their veins,
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K No, 8, Pe TS TOS ae 7 ) With blanched faces, the Rangers gaze ateach other—those who pale not when lead flies like hail, and blood flows in streams; and through | the camp, from lip to lip, goes the words: ‘Wild Wilr* CHAPTER It. WILD WILL. Alone and with a madman’s zeal That horseman plied the scourge and steel; And jaded now, and spent with dread, Embossed with foam, and red with blood, But stumbling in the rugged dell, The tortured horse exhausted fell. The maddened rider strove in vain To rouse him with the knife and rein, But the good steed, his labors o'er, Stretched his stiff limbs, to rise no more. Wuo that was on the Rio Grande during the | Cortina wars, that did not see or hear of ‘* Wild Will,” the maniac of the chaparrals? Was there a curse upon him? None knew positively his history. Some said his wife and | ehildren were all murdered, scalped, and other- wise mutilated, while he was absent, and that he was the first to discover his great loss—the first to come upon their mangled remains. Siwce this horrible event he had been a wan- derer—a lone scout upon the plains, never let- ting an Indian escape him when he once struck a trail. At most times, in appearance, he was as sane as any man, but never communicative; in fact, would grow furious, when questioned in regard ‘ to his past history. When he wandered into a settlement, and could get rum—the greatest curse of mankind, on the plaza, or on the plain, one of his mad | fits wassure to follow, and then the poor animal | he rode was doomed. No man dare interfére with him in his insane rides, when he had the horrible habit of gashing his horse on the run, until the poor beast would fall dead with fright, and loss of blood, for all shrunk from using violence to one known to be insano, He often charged into, and made his way through, vibes ely of Jndians, who shrunk in | horror from his insane, maddened eyes, and cowered in terror from the “Phantom of the | Plains.” To see Wild Will when he was wild, was con-’ | sidered by a many a plainsman to be an omen pf evil, and many a Ranger after the thundef- holt-like passage of this man or devil, through | vamp, wore a troubled look; few words were zpoken, and these in subdued voices, as they sat around the fires. ‘* Pda blamed sight rather see the devil, horns, hoofs, and tail, any time, than Will,” said Tom | Clark to Jim Bearfield, as they sat some dis- tance from their fire, on their blankets, ready | spread for their night’s comfort. ‘*'You’re just right, Tom; the devil must be a respectable-looking person compared with Will, when on the rampage. The cursed whisky-sel- lers in Banketta ought to be h’isted up a limb for letting him haye what they know ‘ll. knock what little sense he’s got out’en his poor head. I hain’t seen him afore for six months; then he was up at fort Ewell, calm and peaceful, with six fresh scalps hangin’ to his belt. Now, that’s business, and if the grocery-keepers and sutlers | would just keep whisky from him, why he’d do | a heap to’ards thinnin’ out the Comanches, say nothin’ of a loose Kioway or Lipau, once in a while.” ‘©Well, Jim, let’s knock off on Will. I kinder dion’t care to talk of him. Thar’s sumthin’ so | devetish about ther cuss, that it spiles my appe- tite, and that won’t do, for when that’s gone, good-by, Tom! I’m just as sure thar’s bad luck ahead for me, as I am that thar’s snakes in a dog-town, an’ thar ain’t a mule on King’s ranch that could set me back more, with both hind huffs squar’ at me, than this thing. I don’t say | I wish [ was in San Antonio, fur I don’t balk at nothin’, but I feel kinder squeamish about the gills, Iain’t afeard o’ nothin’ human, but ther wasn’t nothin’ human about the look Will gi’n me as he went past, his horse’s tail hissin’ like a whip-snake on the migrate.” Til go you a slug} that Will will follow us when we get on the march, an’ be in when ther fight comes off, an’ if he does, why them Greasers ll just wilt, an’ won’t have strength enough to | git up an’ dust, what’s alive an’ able to do so, when he shows himself; but yer gitin’ blue, pard, an’ we'll change the subject, as Doc Dos- sett said, when he went for the horse-thief’s corpus, an’ found a musquite log in the box, but, changing the subject cost Doc a basket of wine over at Captain Immeke’s, you bet!” “Don’t talk! Don’t sling yer tongue about wine here, in this dry section, or yer’ll set me on ther back trail, Jim. I believe I could put my- self outside of a pint of Mexican muzcal, as bad as I hate a Mexican, an’ as awful as ther tarnul stuff smells! It’s a cheap way of gettin’ drunk, that Rio Grande whisky, for yer bound ter stay drunk a week, frum the fust day’s pourin’ down, but you'll feel mighty weak fur sum time arter *An sotual ooeurrence, in every particular. _ $900 gold piece, ag’in?” As Tom Clark made the last remark, in a hur- | ried tone of voice, the Texan yell rung out on the night air, given by our friends, the scouts | we Jeft at Nueces ford, now just coming into | camp. The whole camp was now in an uproar; those | who had rolled themselves in their blankets | sprung from them, to greet, with a hearty cheer, their fellow-scouts and captain. An an- | swering yell from the whole company rung out | over the plain, as the captain and his four com- | panions rede within the circle of lights. “Welcome ! to Banketta Creek!” Welcome, boys ! | ‘*Huray for Cap Donaldson and the Chapar- | rals!” ‘*Viva Capitan! Bueno Comandante!” Such cries rung on the air from healthy lungs, | and true hearts beat with pleasure; the very | draperies of Spanish moss above the heads of | the Rangers quivered ke aspens as the cries of welcome shook the air, Such a greeting can only be imagined by | those who live in cities and towns. Ready hands assisted to groom the tired mus- tangs, and picket them on the prairie, while the newly-arrived scouts lost no time in their urgent inquiries in regard to the state of the commis- | sariat, ‘*Give me a mule,” said Reckless Joe; ‘‘ my | kingdom for a b’iled mule, and if you haven't | that article of food upon yer bill-o’-fare, just | sling-a-long a brace of broiled buzzards, stewed cayote, and a dessert of prickly pears, | washed down with good square drink from | Chock-a-late Creek; but mind you, pick ott the | bugs and singe the buzzards!” “Joe, if I wasn’t mighty hungry—you might say starving—you’d turn my stomach with your disgustin wouldn't do to feed a Greaser on, much more a defender of the frontiers,” remarked Texas Bill. . “Why, bless me,” Tom Clark as I’m a sinner! berry on thy right arm? retorted Joe, ‘there’s Hast thou a straw- ‘Yes, I know thou art me long lost brother, | Tom! Hast anything in the way of provinder!” “How de, Joe! Tickled to see you, you bet! As to grub, we have ‘bastante,’ carne asado, chili colorado, frijoles, and coffee as black as the beans before they were cooked. “* Bien dicha! pressed when I ‘am not quite so famished. Come on, boys, and hung be he who first cries Hold ! my! Boys, just gaze at that grub! Don’t any man speak to me for two hours, or Pll blow his eye-winkers off |” The remainder of the party having followed | Reckless Joe, now seated themselves before the xamp-fire of Tom Clark’s mess, to do that justice to a prairie supper that their long and tiresome | ride had well fitted them for. After disposing of an extraotdinary quantity | of roast meat, bear’s meat stewed with pepper, and corn bread, washed down with black coffee, without milk, or sugar, pipes were brought into use, and the scouts, and captain, surrounded by a circle of Rangers,/enterec in regard to the coming campaign. ‘* Who's last from Fort Brown, and what's Col. Ford doing?’ inquired Captain Donaldson, | after seating himself comfortably on a dead | live-oak branch, and looking at his brave lads | | around him with pride. Reckless Joe always made it a point to “sling in his gab” whenever there was a chance; he | | was as fond of talking as eating or fighting, and | here yélled out across the camp: You, Kit Carson, Jr., name- | “Oh yes, Kit! sake and nephew of the illustrious scout of the West! Come hither, me lord. How are the senoritas of Brownsville? What news from the fortress on the river? Give us your noble pre- | | sience.” A powerful built boy, not over fourteen years | of age, with rosy cheeks, and beardless, girlish | face; his long, dark brown hair hanging below | the shoulders, now stepped within the ciréle of | fire-light, causing a murmur of admiration and | love from all the Rangers, for he was the pet of the company, and although seemingly of femi- nine appearance, yet was able to ride or follow a wall with,any of them. The most expressive thing about him was his | eyes, which were wild and piercing. Having been on the frontiers from birth, there was a constant watchfulness, a nervous rolling of the balls continually on all sides, and they seemed to bulge out, more than natural, from being too much in the presence of danger. This peculiar- ity of the eyes is noticeable in most men who | have for any length of time been on the fron- tier. As Kit stepped within the circle of fire-light, his eyes flew around the group, and then he ad- dressed them: : ‘* Well, boys, to tell you\the truth, as I al- ways do, I left Old Rip bucking at monte despe- rately, and cursing bard between deals, because he hadn’t a h or so of you fellows to up the river with. ; ‘He is as mad as a fresh-roped mule, or a | a) way of servin’ up grub, that | ; My regard for you shall be ex- Enough! Sufficient quantity! or—oh | into a conversation | West. 3 ST St - } | broke monte-dealer, and swears if Sam Houston | don’t order some ef the boys down his way,' he’ll go for the Chaparral Fox with a lone hand, ‘* Mat Nolan is down on San Fernandez, with sixty men, and Littleton is getting a crowd af San Patricio, having cleaned out all the boys of Live Oak who go with him every time. “A scout ought to be sent down to Fort Brown, and let Old Rip know how things are fixed, right away. ‘* Cortina is camped above Reinosa ford, just off the trail, and has swept everything clean up the Government road.” ‘* We must work then, boys,” said Donaldson. ** Joe Booth, you can take half a dozen of tha scouts, your picked crowd, and make for Fors Brown by way of King’s Ranch, and Taylor's | Wells. Here are the dispatches from Governor | Houston to Col. Ford. Bill George, your pard will want to go with you, and I will send some | one else for the ammunition to Patricio. ‘Pick your crowd, and go at or before day- | light, so as to put the leagues behind you before | the heat of the day, for the stretch of sand bee | tween King’s Ranch and the Colorado Lagoon is, I think, about as warm as any spot in Texas, “Tf you meet any Greasers who look any way | suspicious, I need not say don’t let them get the best of you. Deliver the dispatches to ‘Old tip Ford,’ and place yourselves under his om | ders; he may want you to scout up the river for information in regard to the movements of Cor- | tina’s gang of cutthroats. We will be in the chaparrals, ready for tough work, in ten days, “We could get ready sooner, perhaps, but there is no use starting from here until the three | companies are as near full as possible, and. all ready t@ act together, as the Greasers might get wind of our movement. ‘“When we do get at them, boys, there’ be the hottest time, I reckon, there’s been on the Rie Grande since Resaca de la Palma.” “ Allright, Cap.,” assented Reckless Joe. ‘* Tk muster my clan. I want my pard (Texas Bill), Bill George, Tom Clark, Young Kit Carson, Ji Bearfield, and Bill Mann; that’s my party. take charge of the dispatches, but as I am | not posted in the Rio Grande country, I wish our friend Kit, who is fresh from Fort Brown, to take charge of the scouts. .What do you say boys? We'll march under Kit in the service o the suffering citizens of the Rio Grande, skull and eross-bones,. black flag, and all that sort a’ | thing counted in. We'll drive the yellow- skinned, greasy usurpers back to their holes, where they will be glad to grovel in the ashes of the Halls of the Montezumas. As Joe Booth ended his little esc, he stepped across the circle and extended his hand | to young Kit Carson, this being their firs meeting, and the two were soon fast and firm friends. Kit and Joe soon collected the Rangers that were to go with them in the morning, and everything was prepared in readiness for the early start, all of them arranging to sleep to- gether beneath a live-oak on the outskirts of the camp, so not to disturb the other boys when | they book their departure. They then returned to Captain Donaldson’s | mess, “Everything is all fixed, Cap.,” said Joe; | “we won’t see you again until we meet in the | chaparrals. You can count on our being in Fort Brown as soon as horse-flesh can take us,” “* All right, boys; Kit, you take good care of Joe. He’s hunk among the Reds, but he’s got te | learn a heap about Greasers. I reckon we'll all | turn in and get what sleep we can.” ‘“* Good-night and nore, sep Cap.,” sung out the scouts who were to leave the next morning. ‘*Con el permiso de V. senors! Bueno noche!” * said Kit to his pards, as he rolled himself up ia his blanket. Tn less time than it takes to write it, not a hu- man was to be seen in the Ranger camp; all were rolled in their blankets; the grove was wrapped in silence, the Rangers in repose, heedless of the sharp, quick barks of cayotes, the occasional | shriek of a panther or the hooting of owls amid the oaks over their heads. Here we willieave them, flit across the coun- | try over the large trects of post and ltive-o | musquite thickets and prairies, in a nort | direction to new scenes/and characters, , CHAPTER IIT. MARTHA WELLS, THE TEXAN QUERM, \ Wreathed in its dark brown rings, her hair Half hid our heroine's forehead fair,— Half hid and half reveal’d to view Her full dark eye of hazel hue. The rose, with faint and feeble streak, So slightly ting’d the maiden's cheek That you had said her hue was pale: But, if she fac’d the summer ; Or spoke, or sung, or quicker moved, Or heard the praise of those she loved, Or when of interest was expressed Aught that waked feeling in her breagh, The mantling blood in ready play Rival'd the blush of rising day. * With your permiseton, girs, $ e435, ia. s =
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2 The New York Library. Vol. 1 f San Antonio, the Alamo City! What thrill- ing incidents of ei are connected with this, the principal city of Western Texas. No street or plaza, path or trail, within its \ limits, but has been washed in the blood of / heroes! What tales of crime and massacre, of heroic | fortitude,of unparalleled bravery and patriotism, eould the lime-stone walls of the Old Alamo tell, were they gifted with speech. On the eastern side of the San Antonio river, and the northeast corner of the Alamo Plaza, stands this, the mostimportant building in Texas’ history. Here it was that all the American population af the town took refuge when Santa Anna sur- rounded them with eight thousand soldiers, Among the doomed whites were the celebrated Yexan patriots, Col. David Crockett and Col. Bowie, the inventor of the famous knife which bears his name. Over three hundred and sixty men women and children rushed madly into the old mission, hoping to preserve their lives. Alas, they knew nok the nature of their foes; or, those who did, kept the knowledge to themselves. m the time they entered the doors of the Alamo, those of the party who knew the treach- erous character of the exicans, felt that they were doomed, and resolved to sell their lives dearly. The Kentucky rifles poured death into the mass of Mexican soldiers, but their overwhelm- ing numbers enabled them to fill their comrades’ places as they fell. They soon burst in the doors of tho main entrance, when the brutal massacre of men, women and children commenced. The men fought, as desperate, brave men fight, until they were, one by one, shot down in their tracks, nobly defending the females behind them. Col. Crockett fought with his knife, after being blinded by powder so he could no longer use his rifle, cutting down his enemies as they rushed upon him, and when, at last, he received his death-shot, thirteen Moxicans lay in one ghastly pile before him, killed by his one right arm Of all the doomed garrison, but one survived. & girl aig thrown from a window into the irrigating ditch, was rescued by a Mexican woman, who tenderly cared for the little thing until the child was adopted by the State, and educated. She still goes by the name of ‘The Child of the Alamo,” and I have listened to many sweet songs from her lips. Passing north, from the north-east corner of 6 main Plaza, a rifle-shot or so, we come to a e, low unpretending Methodist Church, but the neat white cottage, with its flower garden, oe “ase the church, is where we must enter. a room neatly and tastily furnished, far better than most Texan homes, are two females —one a matron of forty, the other a blooming gt of sixteen; the elder busy with needlework, soneer a impatiently on a piano. Aslam describing real characters and scenes, the betrothed wife of Joe BE. Booth, (or Reck- Joe) must have more than pees mention. Miss Martha Wells was of medium hight, with long flowing dark brown hair, hazel eyes that pierced Vedi and through those whom phe deigned to address, with a faint blush con- tinually upon her rounded cheeks, with all the fulness of a prairie fawn, and as quick of movement. There was a dash of bravado about her which told of a true daughter of Texas, who would mount a wild mustang, and conquer him, too, if the started to do so. For some time the look of concern and trouble that showed plainly in her features was battled inst, and then, suddenly turning around on ‘ piano-stool, th posite side of the apartment: ‘Mother, I cannot stand this suspense any lenger. Poor brother Clay is now lying sick on the Rio Grande, only a few leagues above where Cortina’s raids have extended. Joe Booth fhought him secure from any molestation from this bandit chief, and has gone himself down eto tf with Donaldson’s Rangers to join the é@xpedition against this king of guerrillas. Sup- some of the Mexican outlaws should ad- vance up the river as far as the Guerrero ford, axl poor Clay be murdered! Oh, to think of it, and we sitting here in idle security, doing noth- to help him! Could we ever forgive our- es if such a horrible event should transpire? ¢eannot and will not bear this any longer!’ “My dear child, I am feeling as bad, certain- ty, about r Clay, as you can. I did not close my ee nigh thinkin g of my son being in the situation he is. Why did we not keep him at home? His wild, uwwcontented mind led him fato this trouble and danger. I do wish that John Moore had not have asked him to go, and they will both return to usin safety. Your brother-in-law must value his life a good deal of stock to go into gach a coun Soe ie ig me sige he, it seems to ; mae, oust to ve better judgment than to heave ¢ my boy along, not yet out of his *; t, I caid I could not bear this suspense i a “ * ieee | a ee ye FOF AS Re Sl Psa e tears moistening her long | eyelashes, she addressed her mother on the op- | | is so gay - hy Oe at Se a eer a eg) he bs ve os longer, and I will not. No use in talking how he came to be in such a dangerous locality, but talk of some way of getting him out of it. I am worried enough in regard to Joe; he is liable to lose his life any day with the Rangers, but there | is no use trying to keep Joe out of the Rangers since he went to the Indian war with Capt. Burleson. ‘* Mother, I am going to the Rio Grande, after Clay, myself.” ‘* Heavens, child! what are you talking about? Are you getting insane?” ; ‘No, mother; far from it; but I have just come to my senses in regard to the matter. Ifa brother is sick, far away in a dangerous section of the country, among strangers, and it is pos- sible for a sister to reach and aid him, it is her duty to do so.” “T think it possible for me to reach the Rio Grande in safety. You know I have had some prairie experience; am a fair horsewoman, and, if worst comes to worst, I can shoot a rifle or revolver well enough to make it dangerous to those who oppose me.” “My dear child, listen to reason, ‘You know | it is next to impossible for you to carry out | such a wild plan, and who would go with you? You, surely do not propose to go on a journey of one hundred and sixty miles, alone, two- thirds of it through a country where war-par- a _ Indians are liable to sweep down at any ime 7? “Well, no; not exactly; I intend to enlist Jack Hodge and Clown; they are both in town —both friends of us all, and brave and true men, Clown is a little weak in his brain, poor fellow, since he had that awful fight with the Camanches, and is not as active as he would be if he had not had so many arrows shot into him. Only think of one man fighting fifteen Indians alone, killing eleven, and putting the rest to flight! I shall feel secure in the company of such men as they are known to be. I know they would stand by me to the death. I shall wear the buckskin suit that Jobn | Moc¥e brought from Monterey for Clay, and | brother left a Sharpe's carbine and Colt’s revol- ver behind, so I shall be well fixed for the road. I will have my hair cut so it will hang to my shoulders, and with a sombrero I shall look as masculine as some of the young boys in the Rangers. I know I shall not look more girlish than Sam Hall or Sim Cooley. Can I have your permission to go, mother?’ ‘‘Martha, I have as much regard for your welfare as my son Clay’s, and hesitate upon giv- ing you any encouragement in such a rash, al- though praiseworthy undertaking. worry myself to death in your absence.” “Mother, when I rode from fort Mason, thirty miles, in the night, down the Llano river, to the Ranger camp for assistance, the time the Camanches were butchering the ranch- eros within rifle-shot of the barracks, it was said that no other girl of my age in Mason county would have dared do it, and Iam in- clined to think I can make the trip to the Rio Grande in safety. You know how poor Clay must feel who has never been from home before. He must need the care of one who loves him. John would not have left him had he thought he was going to be seriously ill.” “You are a good, loying, brave and true daughter, Martha, and I have great confidence in your judgment. I am very much troubled in regard to Clay, and if you think Jack and Clown will go with you, I will say God speed, although I shall have no peaee of mind until see your dear face again.” Martha, who had during this conversation been gazing apparently from the window, but, instead, had observed every movement, and weighed every word of her mother, now rushed across the room, clasped her arms about her neck and kissed her affectionately, while the tears rob “es from the eyes of both. “Thank you, mother, for saying I can go, for Ihave thought and dreamed over this so much of late, since we heard by the scout, who brought the tidings of Cortina’s last butchery. that Clay was on thea, Rio Grande sick, that I have felt that I must go, and feel that our good, brave Reckless Joe will find his way up the river, and that perhaps we shall all come back | Oh, would not that | ay! Only think, mother, it is | but three months since I rode after the Rangers | to come and teach the Indians better than to | to San Antonio together. be gloriously murder the citizens of Mason! It was then I met Joe—our Joe. Why, mother, it seems as though we had known hin always. This would not seem like the same world without him; he always. I never saw him with the blues, and he never allows any one else to have them, when he is around. ‘Shakespeare Joe,’ some of the boys call him, and I do not wonder, as he is as fond of spouting as a whale.” ‘Joe is a good, brave boy, I know, but very, | very reckless; and I am much afraid, will not live to a very ripe old age, should he stay in Texas. I wonder what he found todo to keep him in the excitement he likes so well, before he came here? Things must be rather tame in Massachusetts, compared with this State, I should judge?” sa) ‘I suppose so, and I hope Joe will not get. Maen s= Song a: ig ee a Sure aS - | homesick, for we should be lost without him; but I must hasten and make preparations for this trip to poor Clay. I have the arms, and clothing necessary, and mounted on my own dear ‘White Cloud,’ which William Knox pre- sented me, I am fixed for the trail, for thure are but few horses like mine for speed, or en- durance. But, by-by, mother; I must go u to the Plaza and find the boys, if I can. know they are eager to join the Rangers agaiast Cortina, and they can go down the river from the Guerrero ford.” And so saying, Martha skipped across the room for her hat, and almost fiew down the street toward the Plaza, but somewhat mode- rated her pees as she approached that great mart of all Spanish built towns. Passing the lime-stone block, looming up high | above the insignificant ‘‘ jacals,” she twrned te the right, up the north side of the Plaza, u which the Plaza House fronted. But few whtite females were on the streets, at this time of the | day, and she wended her way through the most mixed crowd of men that could be found on the American Continent—Americans, English, Ger- mans, French, Spaniards, Mexicans, N and Half-Breeds, Rancheros, Muleteers, Mer- chants, Stockmen, Frontiersmen, and Team- sters, in all manner of costumes; but, high or low, rich or poor, all respectfully made way for the beautiful girl, and many a sombrero was Se and pleasant greeting given, by those who were so favored as to be acquainted with pron Martha Wells. To insult a woman in an Antonio would brin, y death to the rash individual who would do so. Arriving at the Plaza House, Martha was for- tunate in finding Jack Hodge, lasily leaning against the veranda post, near the main on- trance, but at a nod of invitation from Martha, his laziness left him, and in an instant he was by her side walking toward the Military Plaza. I_ should | | but I know he is to be at fandango to-night, As soon as the usual tings were exc between the two, Jack addressed Martha ape- goer me ‘**Miss Martha, I thought of calling at your mother’s, this evening.” “Jack, I am glad to see you; and wish to have a talk with you, so we will, if you please, take a walk around the Military Plaza, which you know is always clear of a crowd except when they hang some poor fellow. As to your coming up this evening, Jack, I am afraid you would not have exe yourself to that ex- tent. They do say you are the laziest man in town except when you are on horseback, or a stage. Don’t be offended at my plain way of speaking; but, how is it, Jack—do The boys mis- represent you? ‘No, I reckon not; I can’t deny but what I am inclined that way. What is the use in rush- ing around, when te have hothing ahead te gain by it. When et the lines in my hand, and six or eight rattling nags ahead, with say fifteen passengers on, and in the coach, I foal like myself more, and don’t care much even for the road-agents, for I always carry two Colts sixes, and most of them know it. ” ther you see, I’m off the road now and awful sick of town.” “That is what I thought, Jack, and I came ta you as a friend to aid me, in what you may call a foolish thing.” Foolish, or not foolish, I am at your service, be it to break a wild mule, rope a mustang, scalp a Camanche, or cut Cortina’s throat, al- though I acknowledge I want time for the last “Til not be so hard on you, perhaps, as either of the difficult feats you mention, ar Bo my por may lead you to the accomplishment of he latter. Let us turn toward the post-office; perbaps there is a letter from Joe. I do wish there was a mail between here and where r Clay is, and this brings me to the subject om hand, Joe, you know, has gone down country with the Rangers, and cannot assist me. Brother Clay is sick on the Rio Grande, near the Guerrero ford, where John Moore left him when he went into Mexico to purchase You do not know how worried mother and my- | self have been in regard to him, and mother ee if reluctantly consented for me to go to him, can get you and Clown to go with me. The Rangers will, when organized, sweep up the river, and if you go to the Rio Grande with me, you and Clown could scout down and join them, as I have heard you wished to do had you ar- rived here before they left the mg ‘““T want, oh so bad, to get to Clay and take care of him, until he is able to travel; and, yu see, I have fixed the whole programme, and that is wanted now is for you and Clown to say you will act as my escort.” . “ T have not seen Clown to-day, Miss Mi Madam Candeleno’s and I will make it my busi- ness to find him. I have no doubt he will be glad to do you this favor, as I am myself. am extremely sorry Clay is sick, away from home. He is too young for trouble; I would do this for eat tien Reg J ae the honor of the com: o air sister. Oe Phab will do for Jack; I don’t allow it don’t. sound welk pot used to it. Ide that he will go; 7
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a Se : a me : x x * i oe TS oo ty’ x Se ae) 2 ro ol ’ 3-4 ele ve an eee, eo Oe No. 3, but, wait here a moment until I inquire for the ” Miss Martha entered the post-office, and soon returned to Jack, holding a letter in her hand, and both turned up the Plaza, toward the resi- dence of her mother. Martha, when they came to a street unfre- quented by pedestrians, excused herself, tore open the letter, and glanced hurriedly over its | eontents. “Jaek, this is from Reckless Joe; it was | raniled at Oakville. Donaldson’s. company have erganized, and Joe, with five other scouts, start- | ed the same day it was mailed, for fort Brown, | with dispatches to Colonel Ford from Governor Houston. The Rangers are to rendezvous below the Reinosa ford, where Colonel Ford is to take command, and attack Cortina ‘“‘in force,” I do hope Joe will take care of himself, but there fs no use in relying upon his going any thing so eontrary to his general habits.” ‘Miss Martha, I’ve noticed that those who take the most care of themselves, in this coun- ary, don’t last long; they drop off suddenly, while those who take things as they comes—go in rough, not thinking or caring for their own yersonal welfare—generally come out all right. ow, when a fellow is found to be a coward, for instance, he- had better be anywhere than in Texas, for everybody will snub him, and insult him, until he must eventualiy get into a row, in which he will have to pass in his checks—beg rdon for the gambling slang. Now, Joe is ust the galoot—man, I should have said—for | frontier life; he is brave, adventurous, in fact, Reckless Joe is a very appropriate alias for him. But, by the way, I have not seen Joe since he had his eyes so badly injured. I heard of it in Austin, but not the circumstances, How did it happen?” “Oh, haven't you heard of that? at the time. Well, Joe; Jourden, Bennett, and some Other Rangers, had captured two Indians, in a fight, and were agoing to keep them as | hostages, thinking to exchange them for two | women that had been captured by Big Foot, the Camanche chief. “Tho Indians were bound worked loose from their bonds crawled up to where Joe was, at ti up hot nahies and embers rectly into his face before from the scabbard. the prairie to escape, but were both killed by the other boys, who awoke in time to prevent them from gétting away, said, was killed before he ran ten paces. in camp, and in the night Oh, | 1¢ fire, scooped and threw them di- | he could get his pistol | They then sprung out upon | One of them, it was | Joe | | | suffered greatly for some time, but has nearly | recovered. “ But, here we are at mother’s. Jack, come | in and have a chat with her. I hate to go away and leave her here, and hope Sister Mary will try and keep her from missing me. Come, she will be glad to see you.” gee ‘Tt am greatly obliged for the invitation, but I must return to the Plaza House, and then over i Sappington’s stable, to see after my horse, who is some lame; it is necessary that we all hav . > US trip v ait eo stock under us, on the trip you pro * Jack, I believe you had rather loaf around ihe Plaza than sit and chat with us. You do fot seem partial, to ladies’ society, and seldom Accept our invitations, but you wil get enough af me before we reach the Rio Grande.” “You are greatly mistaken; I am very fond df ladies’ society, but 1 have to keep my tongue bridied so; while with them, haying mixed in rough crowds so much, since I left the States; that is quite a tiresome task for me, to kee fom letting words slip that would not sounc well to refined ears. The siang of the stables ind roads, prairies and camp, comes so natural; and I will not promise to do as well as I have huring this walk, on our way to the Rio Grande.” : “All right, Jack; I shall put no restrictions on your language, as long as you talk like a gen- tleman, as 1 know you to be. ed t rairie slang, having spent most of my life in Taxes, not remembering much of my birth- place, Virginia. But, by-by, Jack; if you will not come in, be sure you seo Clown to-night, and gome and see us here in the morning.” ’ ' | | With a farewell smile, Martha tripped into | the cottage. Jack, respectfully lifting his som- brero, and heaving an immense sigh of relief, retraced his steps toward the Plaza, soliloquizing by the way, giving vent to the pent-up words he bad been forcing back, as they were at his tonguoe’s end, during the walk with Martha. ‘* Dog-gone my pecul’ar pictur’! Ill just be gmashed, tipped, curflumuxed, and foundered, if I don't feel like a b’iled mule. She's the dang- dest, purtiest, smartest, slickest piece of calico I ever seen, inside or out a coach, and she w’ares her harness b’utiful, and tosses her head like a three-year old mustang, upon ther perrariec, what’s never bin yoped. Joe is.a lucky euss, to git on the right side of her, and not git his giz- gard broke, and I hanker arter a kiss from her sweet lips, as bad as an old stage hoss dus for eats, aiter a-donblein’ stations, or a perrarie- dus fur water, in the middie of thar Staked Finins, but Pm squar’ alw’is, and never ‘ll gu | taper of 5 back on a friend like Joe; not much! She’s jest as safe with Jack as an express package, and I never broke one yet, nor “lowed a road-agent to do it either. Ireckon that gal’s passage is paid to kingdom come, strai’t through to Heaven, , on the back seat, and I'd like tur drive her | through, when her time comes ter go. Strange ther ain’t no time-table fur us humans to know when we've got to turn over our fares, unhar- ness, and git fur unknown, unexplored reg’ons; but I don’t reckon they’d want such a cuss up there, as I am! “Tm O. K. all the time, except when I’m full of whisky, then look out for Jack, everybody! he don’t care whar’ he drives, and has no fa- vorite hoss. Vd be holdin’ the lines behind a spank-up team now, if I could just pass tho drinks and order up a safer hand; and there’s no use talking, I’ve got to knock off this whisky biz or bust. DP’m as dry now, and my lips as cracked, as an old harness. Here goes fur Bob Caile’s, fur about four fingers, strai’t,; that ‘ll take the trembles out’en me. I couldn’t a talked like a gentleman, States style, with Miss Martha much longer; it don’t cum natural to me now, and tires me awful. Ill go to the fandang» to- | night, and see Clown; he'll glide easy onto this Why, everybody likes | trail, to please Martha. her, and who c’u’d help it! “Tl git a good squar’ drink at Bob’s, then to-night, sure, or I'll see snakes, an’ Inguns, *fore we git to the Medina river.” Jack entered. the bar, on the corner of the Plaza, kept by Bob Caile, and as he stepped in, + he little thought he was about to witness a hor- rible example against his future potations, CHAPTER IV. HOW JACK HODGE ENJOYED A FANDANGO, Men shudder with horror when some dread: ful crime is perpetrated, or an accident happens which hurls human beings into eternity, but are | very backward in profiting by a knowledge of the cause of these events. So it was with Jack Hodge, after assisting to bear the remains of the old Texan to his heart- broken wife and children; and seeing that no words of his would mitigate their grief, he started for the Plaza again. The death of his old friend affected Jack and made him quite blue, and as this was an unusual feeling with him, he being generally of a joyous | disposition and fond of fun, under the circwms stances he came to the conclusion to drown his sorrow in the flowing bow], and turned off from his cow’se to the Main, into the Alamo Plaza, Here he found a congenial friend in the per~ son of Phil. H. Immeke, and the two talleed of the circumstances connected with the shooting affray, over their lager, in the cool front reom of Immeke’s restaurant, Some time was spent here before Jack wended his wey again, toward the main Plaza, mutter- | ing to himself as he walked along: | Immeke’s lager to set me O. K. “Leaning against the bar, with a glass half-full of liquor in his hand, was an old Texan, who had passed years in the service of his adopted | State, a brave and honorable man, respected by Why, | everybody in Western Texas was talking of it | all, for his valor, and services. He had been captain of Rangers, in manya hard-fought field. His eyes were wild, and bloodshot; the glass trembled in his hand, and he anxiously, and ““Wall, I must have sumthin’ stronger than This shootin’ scrape has knocked ther buckles all of’en ma an’ [I feel loose enough to sling myself at the fandango,” When he arrived at the Plaza again he en~ tered Bob Caile’s barroom, where he found quite a crowd congregated, discoursing om the inei- dents connected with the shooting of the ald captain, and Jack was called upon as an eye- witness for the particulars, as the barkeeper | was very busy; drinks were called for to keep | up the interest in the story and keep Jack’s with a startled air, looked at Jack as he came | in, as if expecting an enemy, but the startled | look ae way to one of pleasure, and he nodded, and slapped Jack needed no second invitation, and the glasses clinked together. Hardly had they been returned to the bar empty, and as Jac was about to address the old tongue limber. Most of the people were indignant at the mmur- der—it could be called by no other name—and | exasperated at the assassin for taking the Cap. his hand on the bar, in invitation; | | he was too full for utterance just then. when drinking, and decided that it was not ex~- actly the square thing, for he would have had 4 | poor show had he met the captain when he was | sober, as he was considered tho best shot in San another party of men entered boisterously from. | the Plaza. One of these men was a bitter popes enemy of the old Texan’s, just arrived from Austin, , | Antonio except Charley Pyron. Texan, when | Jack swore he’d show the chap afore mornin® what shootin’ was, if he met him, drawing hig | Colt’s revolver, half-cocking the same and rum ning the cylinder around, to see if the chambext | were full loaded, and had evidently been expected by the old | Texfn, who turned around, and as his eyes fell upon the man he detested, his hand went in a trembling, quivering manner, around his belt to his Colt’s revolver, as he hissed the words: ‘Liar! Poltroon! Coward!” backed from the barroom into the Plaza; the crowd receded with blanched faces, as these men each stepped, one backward, the other forward, from the veranda, their eyes glaring hate. When free from the crowd, at ten gad apart, the pistols were leveled, each “at the other, “Hold, for God’s sake, Cap!” said Jack; “vour’re too drunk to fight,” lis words were not heeded; the old Ranger trembled, but not with fear, as he pressed the trigger; there were two reports, an instant’s in- terval between, and still both men stood glaring | at each other unharmed. The sharp click of the hammers—which sent a thrill of horror through the bystanders, those who were unused to such scenes—then, quick as a flash of lightning—for human life now de- pended upon sleight of hand—the pistols were again elevated, and a wavering motion of the arm was noticed in the old Ranger, a difficulty in catching the sights. It cost him his life, for “Jack, you'd better let that fellow alone," said the barkee er; ‘‘he’s a-dead shot.” “ He'll be a dead shot if I draw bead on # said Jack, and he replaced his six-shooter in scabbard, and sauntered out into the night ait | with a wavering, slouchy gait. Instantly his opponent grasped his rec and | He stood a moment on the veranda of thé Plaza House, when he suddenly remembered hit meeting with Martba Wells on.the same spot, and also that he had promised to see the Clown in regard to the proposed trip ‘to the Ris Grande. He had just drank enough to make him happy, and at the same time it was but a step to almost maddening fury. It needed but few words to make him a hard man to deal with. In this state he started for the fandango. Crossing the Plaza to the post-office and turn ing to the right, then the left, he went on until he came to the cock-pit. He was now in the Mexican quarter of city, and his surroundings made his thoug! | dwell upon these people, associating them ually with Cortina, the Rio Grande outlaw, | and when he entered the clearing in the mus- } his opponent’s pistol belehed forth its leaden | | the robber chief were in San Antonio, and Jacl | thought the fandango would draw them, it such messenger of death, which found a home in the brain of. the old Texan, who fell with a dull I am used to | thud to the earth, without a struggle, and there he Jay, a limp and motionless heap of clay. The murderer walked away, still holding his revolver, and with keen eyes watching to see if | any of the old Texan’s friends wished to take it up. was a fair fight; no advantage,” says one. Most of the crowd agreed to this verdict; it was fair in Texas. quits, where the fandango-house stood, he had come to the conclusion that no Greaser should interfere with his dancing or put on any extra airs over him. ‘It had been rumored about town that spies of was the case, and he would keep his eyes pevled | and wateh for them. So, pulling his soft sombrero down over hi face, he entered the fandango-house, and sea himself among the “ wall-tlowers,” by the doar, ; | without attracting attention from any oue ex Yes, they called it fair, for a man in his sober | | senses to stand up and fight for his life against | a man who was drunk, with weapons that re- | : Clown was not to be seen. Within one mile of the Plaza, in a neat cot- | tage, was a gentle wife and young children, who | little knew their dearest friend on earth was | quired a steady eye and arm. laying on the public square, his white face cold in death, his tongue hushed forever. ; And who that saw the corpse borne home to | them, and witnessed the heartrending agony of this bereaved family, could ever again honestly advocate the sale of rum? Oh, you who legislate in favor of a license for the of, and you who vend this vile poison, which brings more misery, sufferi ime, ‘woe into this favored land than all other evils conpined, think you that you will be held guilt- crime, and | ) : ; ' | cept those near him, who, in the dim candle light, did not recognize him. Some twenty couple were on the floor, whirk ing in the mazes of a Spanish waitz, to the music of guitars and violins. There were but fow Americans present-and Jack noticed there were some Mexicans he had neverscen in San Antonio before, avilainous looking set of half a dozen, who seemed to keep — together at one end of the fandango-house, where coffee, frijoles (black beans) and tortillas (corn cakes) were sold, and he resolved to keep close watch on them. ‘ When tho waltz was ended the Americans lef the house, and Jack found himself the only ‘“* Gringo” in the place. : He arose from_ his seat, and engaged a pretty — Mexican girl he had met before, led her near’ peas 5 end where the suspicious Mexicans stood, = called for a cotillion, oes. ¢ %
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Cae Vol, I, The stranger Greasers instantly took women énd called for a waltz. Now, Jack knew the previous dance had been waltz, and the Mexicans stood one side when hey could have danced, had they wished. This was evidently done to show that they in- femled to rule the fandango, and to indicate their hatred for the Gringo, who had no one to batk him. ey ee eee chap, so he’s your meat, and the pistol’s your’n | by prairie law, or stage law either, fur that matter, Clown, I wish I weren’t so fleshy; takes a good deal ter keep me on the road. See if | Madam Candlestick left any of her coffee and grub when she vamoused this respectable ranch. Jack’s blood was up; he became as sober as a | Judge in an instant, and brougit his six-shooter around, handy for use. ‘We'll have a cotillion, right here, or bu’st up this shebang,” said Jack; then turning to one of the Greasers, who seemed to hold authority over | the others, he said: +e got ter say about this dance? In the name f the devil, your lord and master, who are you, anyhow?” he Mexican faced Jack, and sung in a sneer- | ing, taunting manner: ‘Soy puro Mexicano, Nada tengo del Gringo, I ama pure Mexican, with nothing of Gringo me), then hissed between his teeth, as he end- | ed, Tonto! (fool). ‘Then I’m a fool if I don’t put a Gringo ball into you, right here.” Quick as a’ flash, a long stiletto glittered in the hand of the Mexican, and he Sornng at | oul | Jack, but, before he had made two steps a Jet from Jack’s revolve#found his brain, The other five instantly drew their myrderous knives, and like tigers leaped over the dead of their comrade toward Jack. reo more, shot through the heart, fell in a bod hea work his weapon any further, was borne to the floor by the two survivors. Their knives were raised above his heart; they glittered an instant jn the air, and as they started down on their errand of death, the loud report of a Sharpe’s carbine rung through the fandango-house from the open door; the arm of one fell helpless on Jack’s breast, the glancing ball that had broken it struck the other on the head, rendering him senseless, and he fell across Jack’s limbs. The next instant the wild yell of Clown rung through the fandango-house, and on he came with uplifted bowie, which he buried in the heart of the broken-armed Mexican, while Jack’s knife let out the life-blood from the other. Panting and perspiring with exertion and ex- citement, Jack worked his way into a sitting osture, among the dead, and coolly wiped his ife on the jacket of the nearest; then, look- jug up at Clown, who was gazing with admira- tion at him and his work, he said: “Clown, yer in on time THs TRIP. I had my checks ready to pass in, but hated dog-gonely to do it to a Greaser. You saved me the dis- grace, and I owe you a life.” you, for giving me the chance to knock another cut-throat over, but you've been playing Davy Crockett by the looks of things. get away with all these fellers?” ‘You jest bet when I start in on the shoot gomethin’s got to drop. My six shoots plumb where I d her, and my fingers are nimble; I had a whole team on me this trip, hut they'll never wear harness ag’in, nor waltz, either, I reckon. I swore I'd dance a cotillion, and I’m agoin’ to have it. All the gals of San Anto- 0, Mexicans and Gringos, the row commenced, and I reckon the music-fel- lers thought I’d furnish music the rest of the night. That big cuss there wanted to sing to me, but I wanted to dance a cotillion, and I’m bound to doit. Take that lariat hanging there, Clown, and rope a few galls, an’ bring ’em in.” “By the jumpin’ Jerusilum, Jack, I believe owre gettin’ cracked. Did one of the cut- Sroonts it a lick at yer head? There ain’t a buman, I'll bet my Sharpe's, this side the cock-~ pit by his time,” ‘Well, Clown, never mind; most too tuckered ter dance, anyhow; let’s see if the cusses have anything of value about their garments. Here’s a bunch of papers; Ill keep an’ examine ’em some other time; and here’s a few doobloons on this chap; and that galoot there, I reckon, earried the small change. Told yer so; there’s enough for a good square drunk, and a straiten up drink, all round, We’ll confiscate the knives, and, look here, Clown, we better swop sombre- ros with these yaller republicans, fur our’n are @estin’ rather worn and seedy sl Biable, an’ usin’ ’em far night-caps. I’m fixed, and fitted with anewone. Just jar them cra- #ium prospectors outen it, will yer; I don’t care ter change breeds.” “You bet, I'll just swop with this fancy-rig- @ed son of the Montezumas: he has a sombrero with the brim trimmed with gold lace, and a Srgeucogeon snake, with red eyes, for a band; tl just set me up nobby, and his red silk sash fis what I’ve been layin’ for. We've made quite a haul, Jack. Look-a-here, my fingers are so dangly twisted up since them cussed Injins shot my muscles away, with their arrers U country, that I can’t git into this feller’s pocket, and there's sumthin’ hard in it that may be walu'ble.” “Roll the cuss over this way, pard; I’m too I swan-to-c ine out ter git up. hristy it’s ee nthe pistol” Wai, he’s the broken-armeg | at Jack’s feet, who, not having time to | “Yer on the wrong trail there, Jack. I owe | i | than anything I knows on.” How did you | ‘“* What in thunder have | I’m as hungry as a bufiler what’s been bogged a week ten foot from the bank on Paint Creek.” ‘*Here’s slathers of coffee and fixens, Jack. Git up and sit on the table, or here’s sum chairs, lost. T’ll give you four bits if you'll go and find Hank, the coroner; I’ve got biz for him.” Crazy Nace soon returned with Hank, having found him at George Horner’s barroom, and he made his appearance rather red in the face, and over-earnest in his manner. “ Haloo, Hank!” said Jack, ‘‘ take sumthin’ to | steady yer narves, for there’s a job fur you up regular old raw-hide-rippers. Yer ain’t hurt, are ye?” **No, not bad; but, yer see, Clown, I had such hot work fur a spell ther, and a good load of Plaza House gin aboard, that I’m kinder foun- dered like, and don’t care ter stir much, but if | lunch is ready, I’m in, every time.” And Jack extricated himself from the dead Mexicans, and joined Clown at the table, where they both devoured a goodly quantity of the provender left behind by the old woman, who was sole proprietor of the fandango-house. The strong coffee cleared up the somewhat clouded brain of Jack Hodge, and Be seemed to feel more comfortable and satisfied with him- | silent forms of his would-be murderers. ‘** Now, Clown, old boy, just skirmish around among them Rio Grande chaps fur cigarettes, and then we'll be all hunk.” ‘“Jack, it seems to me you want a tarnal sight o’ waitin’ on ter-night. Dog-goned if I ain’t gettin’ tired of it.” **T’'m tired, Clown. How the deuce did yer ) perpen ter come in, just in time ter get a hand in this deal? Why I’spected ter see yer here when I fust arroved.” ‘* Why, pard, [ was intendin’ ter corue, when I told yer this mornin’, but I met Bob Caile, | Shipley, and Bill Rodgers agoin’ to the lake, and went with ’em to see if I couldn’t knock a eft sudden when | | and gazed back at their now harmless foes. | eepin’ in the | | ’spect that’s the place they went to, pard deer over. night, and I cumin, just because I told you I was agoin’ to be here; I just came through the They are all camped out there to- | | self, especially as he cocked his eye toward the | at the fandango. A holesale job in your line, that'll make that nose of yours a shade less brilliant than ’tis now. ‘You've got to sit on six dead Greasers, and they are all sittin’ there awaitin’ fur yer.” ‘*How’s that, Jack? Have you been getting into a row, too? There has been as good a man shot to-day as ever stood in San Antonio, not excepting Crockett, or Houston, and that’s the old captain. It would take a good many Greas- ers to make up for his loss. When I say Greas- ers, I do not mean our Texas Mexicans: they are as good citizens as we have, honest, reliable, and ready to fight, in the service of the State, any time they are called upon, Where are there any more honest, brave, and noble men than our Jose Penalosa, the Castros, Berraros, Caravajals, and scores of others. But what do | youmean about sitting on Greasers? Strange we haven’t heard about any row at the fandango,” “Well, Hank! I'll tell yer, after I take an- other drink. This is my last night on the whisk’. I’ve got biz on hand that won’t allow it; ’'m Plumb sober for the next two weeks, and | you'll see a straight trail after me only when I meander. Fill up, Clown; you don’t seem to be very rambunkshiously dry. You are generally pretty eager for fluids. All full? Here’s suc- cess to Old Rip Ford, and a slow but sure death to Cortina!” ‘** Bravo, bravissimo! Good for Jack! But explain things to Hank, and the boys,” said Clown. Jack turned around, his back to the bar, and | raising himself up by his hands seated his musquits, had my Sharpe’s with me, ha’n’t been | home yet, and a devilish good thing for you, I reckon, that I popped in here, as I did.” “Well, Clown, we'll make it all right some- time. You may be in as tight a fix yourself, and I hope I'll be drivin’ past about that time. Tell you what, these cigarittas was made in Metamoras, go youa slug on it, and here among these papers, I find a plan of the American side of the Rio Grande, with all the trails, and the openings, in the chaparrals, marked down. We've got the right birds this trip. They don’t waltz around much, do they, pard! Tell-you- what, let’s set ’em up to the table, kinder natu- ral like, and the old madam will get scaired out of afew brief moments of her too extended ex- istence. now, and looks more like a resustreated mummy “Well, Jack, Pll help ‘set ’em up,’ but don’t talk about scaring the old woman; she’s give me many a plate of frijoles, when I was bun- gry, and she’s took care of many of the boys when sick. I know she won’t scare worth a cent, or I wouldn’t do it.” And they lifted the inanimate bodies of the Mexicans, seated them around the table, lean- | ing their heads upon their arms, which rested upon the same. ne candles were left burning, and the two walked to the door, and then stood ‘“They’ll never cut any more throats, or sling any cussed talk at us, Clown, and they'll never sing, OF WALTZ ag’in, without they waltz around, among the hot coals down below. and I'm agoin’ to be good, for I couldn't stand the climate or company. where they are. Come on, Clown! Adios, senors! Buenos noche! (Fare- well, sirs; good-night.”) And they tipped their sombreros, in mock salutations, as they stepped out into the darkness of the night, leaving the | ghastly forms of tho dead men seated at the table, little streams of blood trickling down the chair-legs, forming a dark crimson pool beneath | the table. Death and silence reigned in the usual haunt of music and revelry. Jack and Clown meandered through the mus- quit thickets, back to the town, and during the walk, Jack told his companion in regard to the | sroposed trip to the Rio Grande, Clown eager- y consented to accompany the party, and the both stood in the center of the Plaza, and with raised right hands, gazed up into the moonlit heavens, and swore they wouldn’t take a drink -after the present night, until they struck the Rio Grande. “ But, we'll € Clown, to bind this ’ere thing,” said Jack, anc they entered the Plaza Bar. Jack walked up, and slapped down a dou- bloon. “Say, old hoss, give us a hogshead of whisky, and a thousand segars, and you fellers sittin’ on She’s nine hundred and ninety-nine | j Le o in and swaller some p’ison now, | ) i | to sing to me, called me a fool, and bragged ou them barrels round ther, an’ wishin’ you had | what’s in ’em, all on you kinder herd up this way, and help put away the stuff I've ordered. I’ve struck Mexican gold, and silver; it laid in all there was about the diggin’s. Se “See here, Nace! how in thunder is it you Reckon ain't at the Bull’s Head? /and had their steel over me, when m fleshy form upon it, laid his sombrero down, after gazing, admiringly, on his new head-gear wiped away the perspiration, and, with a goc deal of flourishing of hands, told his story of the night’s adventures. “Well, boys, the way on it was, I had biz with Clown here, and thought I’d find. him around, buzzin’ some of the senoras up the chaparral—I don’t suppose the young gals would notice him much, since he was cut and slashed so by the Reds. Well, I toddied up that section rather full, by the way. You know our suspicions have been, by the way news has traveled, that Cortina has had spies in this burgh, and as scon_as I struck the fandang’, and was comfortably squatted, I spotted some Rio Granders there that locked and acted kinder strange; from their appearance, J should judge they would, either, one of ’em, stick 4a man in the dark, but ’twould be in the back, for about four bits, providin’ the Mexican buz- zard, with the snake in his mouth, weren’t worn much, and there was a dead sure thing it weren’t puter. I didn’t see nothin’ of Clowy, | and the chaps as was there I knew I couldm't count on, and I was too—ti—ved to walk back for any of you fellers. Vd liked ter have had Jim Ransom, or Jim Brennan, there, about then; but, howsomever, things worked as you'll hear. I ewentually decided to wade in, on a Jone 1 | hand, pervided my perspicaciousness hadn’t gone back on me. Yer needn’t grunt, Van Wells, fur you'll find that in every well reger- lated dictionary, and I reckon I can spit outa word once in a while thai’ll go ahead of you, for you git me, with yer billiard talk, specially when I’m a little biling over with liquids, and my tongue ain’t checked up straight.” *Oh! go ahead, Jack! You're meanderin’, as you call it,” said Hank. “ Wher’ was I?” said Jack, scratching his head. “Why, just where you discovered the Greas. ers.” ‘Oh, yes! Ireckon J was. Well! These fel lers weren’t dancin’, mind you, but jest standin there smokin’ the’r shucks, and gazin’ at the gals, what were jest a-flyin’ around in a wal and when that war over, I lit in on a piece o | brilliant calico, and called for a cotili’on. ‘Then them Greasers went for women on ther jump, and called for a waliz. I seen a muss war brewin’, and tightened up my har- ness, but let the check loose on my tongue, you et. “The gals and San Antonio boys commenced to git up and git. **T asked the boss-Greaser what he me’nt and who he was, very perlite; then he commenced his Mexican blood. “My blood took a Niag’ra-leap, and so did my six, as he let at mo with his centrepede- sticker. I sent him to kingdom-come, and three more what follered him, but the other two got me down afore I could use my shooter ag in, pard, here, let fly with his Sharpe’s-rifle from the door, | and bamboozled them, s0 we fixed them with kets, and on the surface, but I reckon we got | our knifes, and they're all a-waiten’ for you up es _ : * ere : “Here's the papers I found on’em, to show you must be | they belong to a bogus line, but the loose change Lue a MAM = oP Lc eR ee ae
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Bie Se No. 8. Kit Carson, Jr., the Crack Ss hot of the West. 7 ERE ae aks rn ey for whisk¥ as leng as't lasts and any | Cc body’s dry.” “Well, Jack,” said Hank. ‘these papers are evidence enough, as to their character; here’s a furlough for six men, signed—Cortina el Ran- chero—but we know he did not sign it, as he can’t write his name; doubtless it was by his authority; and Pil have a cart go up in the qmaorning, and bury the yellow-skinned spies. They will have six less to fight on the Rio Grande, and-you boys ought to have a letter of thanks nigned by Mayor Baquor, and the aldermen. ack, you are sonie on the shoot, I reckon?” ** Some, Hank, but, better on the drink. Give is a prussic-acid-cocktail, and don’t shake it. I pee all the Mexicans have taken to fancy-drinks, snd theyre all shook up in the same tin. Here’s fun. Now, good-night, boys! Come on, Clown, we'll bunk inside a stage, by the stable; that’s ny home,” and with parting good-nights from fhe barroom loungers—who dreaded the time when the bar closed, and were always waiting for it to open in the morning; poor, miserable plaves, that are found everywhere that rum is gold, and where is it not?—Jack and Clown. meandered around the northwest corner of the tua'n Plaza to eee stable, to sleep away the two or three hours before dawn. | the ot J3ck’s lasts words, as he nestled up on the | back-seat of a coach, and pulled his sombrero down around his ears, were: “Tsay, Clown, which yer rather dance, cotil- Von or waltz?” “ Why, a cotill’on, of course, You bet! Now, give %¢ 4% Test!” CHAPTER V. CAPTURING A WILD IRISHMAN. A face more fair you well might find, For ’twas plain he knew the sun and wind; Nor boasted, from their tinge when free The charm of regularity; But ev'ry feature had the power To aid th’ expression of the hour; Whether gay wit, and humor sly, Dane'd laughing in his light blue eye; Or bended brow, and glance of fire, And kindling cheek, spoke Erin's ire, Leta man crawl cut from under the blankets which compose his prairie bed, upon mother earth, souse his bead into the creek, comb his hair—that is, if he awakens with his scalp still in its usual place, and is so fortunate as to ba the possessor of a comb-—put a few pounds of beef broiled on the coals of his camp-fire and a good-sized chunk of corn-pone into his stomach, washed don by a quart of strong black-coffee— let him then mount his well-tried mustang and start on a gentle lope through the brilliant, fra- grant flowers of a texas prairie, and if he isn’t x happy creature, then he must be a consummate fool, and not fit to live on God’s green earth, Nine-tenths of the ple in this world do not know how to lite; they just linger here, seem out of place, always grumbling, no matter what turns up. Hyonif it is in their favor, they are too contrary to own it. The other tenth, one-half of them live in | °°’ : | bristled in all Cexas- high estimate, l admit—and you couldn’t drive them out, or if yon did, Mo would find fusir way back again. Once in Texas, always mm Texas, is a common saying there, Ihe other half of the tenth, are scattered r iniscuously, around the world, and: just. as hay have found out the secret of enjoying life, they kick up, and go under. Thare were not six more healthy, hearty, or happy men in the world than our scouts who Lid- ed out of the camp on Banketta Creek, at three w’clock the next morning, after Wild Will ‘sashaved ” though the camp. Reckless Joe, with the dispatches from Gov- | ernor Houston, rode by the ‘side of Kit Carson, the boy scout; the others following, their mus- fangs throwing out in front the drops of pearly | gt ~s & ; : : Y | their kindness he thought could come only from dew from the long rich grass and flowers— strong contrast to the weary leagues of hot sand they must cross before they reached fort Vrown. Armed to the teeth, with Colt’s revolvers and | Mharpe’s rifles, all familiar with savage-war, they were able to stand their own against five- times their number of Reds, or Greasers. Thus equipped and in spirits ready for enjoy- ment adventure and duty, they rode away over the flower-bespangled prairie, discussing as they rode all manner of questions, and relating many an odd experience—a capital way to while away the time. In the midst of one of Tom Clark's yarag came the order from Reckless Joe: vi t, boys! Gaze at that bed of flowers; they extend for miles—just opening to say ‘goad-morning?! to their father, the Sun. buat a goodly sight?” ‘“* Beautiful”—“ gay!” “ mighty fine!” “ high- falyéin!’’—came from the boys. ‘Puts me in mind of my pard’s—Little Yank’s —podctry: pes, = man who sees no beauty in the simple prairie ower, Or the golden tints, in the Westora sky, at sunset's soothing hour, e'l have vo help for poverty’s child, no sympathy for grief, And I'd trust him the length of a lariat, and watch him as a thick | Irishman afore? | ahole ec ' me, knowin : wake, oney “Every word true, every time. Even old Big Foot Wallace loves birds and flowers. He keeps a tame panther for a ranch-cat, to stand guard for him when he is away. He left camp at Banketta this morning before we did, to go home and change his old Kentuck for a Sharpe's rifle, which he always takes when there’s hot work ahead; he will be on hand at the rendez- vous in the chaparrals, I don’t think I shall go | to visit him only when I’m sure he is at home, for the panther might not be very friendly to a stranger.” ‘“Is that so, Kit?” Then he’s got a apron Darn good thing if he’d take him on the trail, the cuss could claw off scalps and such, an’ save a heap o’ trouble, but the tarnal critter might not care whether the scalps were on a White or Red.” ‘Halt, boys!” commanded Kit; ‘there’s some- | thing away toward Casa Blanco, on the prairie, | that looks human, bobbing up and down; rather | a peculiar gait fora man, though. Yes, it is a | man—perhaps a Greaser spy! Devide and sur- | round, boys!” In an instant the scouts, in a dashing gallop, were speeding over the plain, three to the sout Fort to the north, and soon surrounde what proved to be a wild-eyed, ragged; forlorn- | looking Irishman, mounted upon a diminutive jackass, the rider being compelled to draw up | his feet and rest them behind on the animal’s | back—his knees then nearly reaching the ground. A burst of uncontrollable laughter greeted the | poor fellow from all sides, as the Rangers rode | up to him. ) ‘“‘May the devil fly away wid yees; but, | what’s the use callin’ on his ma jest: He's too | miuch ef a.gintlemin to be found in this curse ef | acounthry. Are yees humans or saviges that yees go blathering that a-ways? ’Pon me soul, ef I’ad me shelaley wid me, I’d smash the "hole o’ yees into smithereens! “* Bad luck to the ship that brought me to a | land loike this! Be the powers 0’ pewter there’s | never a tree or bush growin’, an’ you’d not see | wather enough in a day’s travel to give a dacent drink to a flea. “Tundher and ownes; did yees niver see an | Be jabers, but I suppose it’s civil I must spake to yees, being in the sitiwa- tion I am at prisent. ‘roth, .gintlemin, yees haven’t a drap o’ whisky or wather wid yecs? Sure ’m famished intirely, an’ was just hunthin’ a hole, but devil twa I find at all, at all, to craw] into, say rayers, and die widout Praste to console the wolves w’u'd give me a dacent | Ow. While talking the Irishman had slid off the | me | jackass, upon the grass, with weakness, | sand—all were evidences of his disconsolate con- | The animal’s ears loped down; its eyes were half-closed; its neck covered with wood-ticks, and hair rumpled in every direction. Taking the two together they were as played- out a pair as ever was seen. The Irishman was in rags; a stiff beard of several days’ growth, uncombed hair, which irections, as bad as the animal’s he had ridden, and begrimed with dust and dition. The Rangers sprung from their horses and | canteens were held to the sufferer’s mouth; | . | saddle-bags were inspected and dried beef and . | corn bread were laid before him, which he de- | voured like a ravenous wolf. Tt was plain to see that the man had suffered greatly from hunger and thirst. ) The Rangers refrained.from asking any ques- | tions until he had satisfied! himself in the way of | eating and drinking. With a sigh of relief and satisfactidn the | Irishman turned his gaze upon his captors— enemies or friends he knew not which—although | a friendliness, and the look he gave them, as his eyes took a rove around the cirele, after dispos- | | ing of rations enough for a whole corporal’s guard, told him of deep sympathy with his suf- ferings. ‘May the Holy Vargin bless yees all, boys, | and may yees never know hunger an’ thirst yersels, It's a new mon I am, an’ a wonder it | is tome where ye got the grub I’ve been ’atin’. | Sure it’s a long ways ye must ’a’ brought that Isn’t ) { | | | | same, for devil a thing that I’ve seen that a | dacent mon ’ud put in his stumach this monay | aday. By St. Patrick I can’t say how long, me | head’s been so strange with the hate, thirst, an’ hunger,” “Where did you come from, my friend, and where are you going?” asked Kit. = Sure I'm rom Kill-a-me-thomas, County Waterford, in the ould sod, and I’m goin’ to the devil, judgin’ from the road I’ve traveled.” “Yes, but where did you come from last, on the coast, at Galveston, or Matagorda bay?” “Be jabers, ’twas nayther. landed from Boston, at Corpus Christi, an’ ‘twas there I pur- chased a horse, and be advice I cum this way to start a ranch, as yees call it. Troth an’ they told me there was horses in plenty for the catchin’, an’ I e’y’d live on nothin’ in Texas, but, luck to me! I lost me horse the fust uight. I thtmk ’twas sumthin’ he ate that didn’t agree | | troubles » on here, for *pon me soul it’s nothin’ else I’ve | seen, devil take them, for they give many a | there, I'd ’a’ gone dead entire | that jackass aia —— es nn wid the crather, for he was after laping and jumpin’ around, so I was forced to git off him an’ camp before I intended; he seemed to take a great: dislike to me, and in the mornin’ when I went where he was he was no longer there, As to livin’ on nothin’, pon me soul it’s many a long day afore J’m after firyin’ it ag’in. GC be wid ye, ould Kill-a-me-thomas. °Tis there a fellow could take it aisy, smokin’ his dhudheen, an’ bad Iuck it was me farther’s son ever left the ould sod. “Sure, afther I lost me horse, ‘twas great efell me, It’s snakes they must live seare, an’ but for the pickin’ = 3 of that anamile y. ‘Twas glad I was to crawl on his back an’ little trouble, too. he being so small of his age, I’m thinkin’ an! by his manes I kept clear o ihe varmints. Sure he don’t mind them at ali, at all. A thousand of ’em might rattle their tails at him, an’ hed only wink at ’em. Jack has been a consolin’ friend to me in me troubles, although it was hard to | see him fillin’ his belly wid grass an’ his masther a-starvin’.” ‘““What is your name, my good fellow, and why did you not strike to the north toward San Patricio? You have been in the desert—the “i part of this a oe the State.” ““Me name was Mike Keefe, at ’ome, bedad, but, worroo, worroo, I’m thinkin’ I don’t de- sarve it any more, for comin’ to such a God-for- saken country, beggin’ yer pardin, gentlemin, if it’s yer place of residence. Sure I’ve traveled north, south, east, and west, and the whole I’ve passed until this last hour wouldn’t kape a dacent pig. “is ‘** Well, boys, what on earth are we a-going to do with Mike# He cannot keep up with us on and we must not leave him here to starve, for I do not think he would travel, as we direct, to get where he would find friends. We must think quick, and be on the march. I have it. ‘‘We will take him with us, Yon der is a saddle-marked nag in that drove of mustangs capering along there. I'll go for him, | end if the horse has King’s brand on the shoul der, I'll rope him, and make it all right at the ranch with King as we pass.” Loosening his lasso from the horn of his sade dle, Kit dashed the spurs in the flanks of his inustang, and sprung in pursuit of a drove of horses, that were, with arched necks; long flow- ing manes and tails, prancing around in all the wild freedom of the prairies. Away they went, Kit in pursuit, heading them down country. This movement being understood by the scouts, Reckless Joe took Mike behind him on the saddle, and leaving the jack half ‘hsleep, his nose nearly touching the ground, all started on down toward the fort Brown trail. Is there a more beautiful sight in frontier life, than'a drove of mustangs on the run? _ The graceful curvings of neck and back, the hoofs spurning the ground with light and airy tread, distended nostrils, brilliant, flashing eyes and glossy skin—it seems a pity to enslave them by saddle or harness, Rosa Bonheur, should she study on the plains of Texas, could paint an animal picture that | would throw her former productions into the shade, even if they do stand unequaled before the world in that line of art. Going at his horse’s greatest speed, his 1 the noose in one hand, the coil in the other wi the end fastened to the horn of the saddle, his som\rero hanging from his belt by the neck string, his long hair flying behind, and his whole attention riveted upon the horse he had decided to capture, Kit presented a picture that would have made a Camanche grunt with envy. The distance lessens between the pursuer and yursued, the loop end of the lasso is P cectine u 1is own horse's back, to spread open the noose; by a dexterous twist of the wrist it circles around his head a moment, and then is thrown twenty feet through the air, with the hiss of a whip-snake. The noose rests an instant over and forward of the mustang’s head, then drops, encircling the neck. Kit’s horse understands his business. As soon as the lariat has fallen over the head of the mus- tang, a pressure of Kit’s knees, a gentle pull on the bit, and the animal’s whole weight is thrown on its fore-feet, his body swiags around, bring- ing the captured mustang to the rear, and wi all fours planted to resist the shock as the mus- tang is brought sharp up by the tightening of the noose. The great speed with which the ani- mal was running, the momentum which the rope attached to Kit’s saddle-horn has to bear and counteract, brings Ejit’s horse clear from the ground forward, but the horse holds his po- sition, and the lasso is as stiff and straight as a bar of iron. The mustang is a snorting, kicking prisoner, wild with fury and fear. The Rangers ride up. Tom Clark’s lariat cute the air from the opposite side, and the m is we F yet a ae es Cn rendheg leaps tothe . ‘oun: rings for the captur orse’s head, ie Pi as thought, Pe om the from the animal’s mouth to hold its head; then binds &@ handkerchief about the eyes. The horse is now blinded and powerless. KS
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re oe The lassos are loosened; the end of Kit’s is fastenéd by a prairie twist around the under jaw of the mustang, and Kit is in an instant upon lis back; the ropes are thrown clear by “ Tom as ho leaps one side, Kit, with the lariat in his left hand, gently slips the handkerchief off with | bis right. One wondering look at his captors, a quaking of his. back that feels the unusual load, a wil gnort; then, springing high into the air, he is off like a méteor. Over the prairie, the quirt in the hands of Kit lashing his sides—on, on, mile after mile, until, reeking with foam and sweat, he stops, plunges, bucks, backs, lays down und rolls, only to find wpon rising the same dread load upon his back. | Kit returns toward the other scouts, gives him both spurs and quirt; he recognizes a supe- rior, a master, and is soon by the side of the boy and humbie. ‘‘Ho gave you a hard one, Kit, but he’s a beauty,” said ‘Tom. “Yes, ‘he is a good nag, snd gave me some trouble. He knew what was in store for him and had a great fear of returning to his old. slavery. “JT would rather rope and break two mus- tangs that had never felt a lariat than one who has. been used by man, and let loose to run again like this one. Weil, Mike, here is a horse for you.” Now, Mr. Kit, sure. it’s beggin’ yees pardin | - for bein’ so familia’, but it’s that I hears them | eall ye, be the howly Moses, do ye think I’d be afther trusting me life on the back of that wild erazy divel? Sure, if he’d take the notion, Goc help me! where w’u’d he take me, an’ no parswa- shon 0’ mine w’u’d civelize him: ‘Pon me sowl I’d rather brogue it from here to the Cove-o’-Cork, barring the wather, than thry to ride him, aven wid a saddle to houldt on to.” “Where is your saddle? Did your horse run eff with that on his back?’ asked Kit. ‘Sure yer’ right! ‘twas that same trick he played me. an’ whin I went for to take the saddle he threw all four huffs at me at wonst, so I threw the | bridle on the horun, and tied the rapscallion to a bit iva plant. Me curse on that same plant, fur ‘twas knives it had fur l’aves, an’ one run through me hand entirely, as the blasted baste jarked on the rope.” Well, pull on those loops behind you; loos- eo that blanket, and toss it over here; I will Fide him until we reach King’s ranch, m get a half-rigged saddiec-tree from Mr. g, and we will fix you up and make a Ranger of you. Can you fight?’ “Bight is it? Did ye ever know an Irishman what didn’t love fighting as well as whisky? | Troth, there’s few iv the byes iv Waterford but what's felt me stick. Bad luck to the day I lost that same! “Iwas me father owned it before me, an’ many’s the head its smashed, begorror!” “ But, we don’t fight here like that, Mike, we shoot and cut. What do you say, Joe; don’t you think our new friend will make a good Ran- r? ** Possibly, me lord! but I forbear to speak me opinion until he’s made a’quaintance with the | ereek, cut loose the rubbish from his gills, comb- ed out his sandy locks, and donned the hab’li- ments belonging to the celebrated corps you mention. From the muscular developments of the man, which, thanks to the tattered gar- ments that partially envelop him, are open to | our inspection, I should judge that much strength sleeps within his frame, and, with re- > ekg e and proper diet—’twill not take long, ging from the extensiveness of his last, meal— e will stand a man among men, and I see no reason why he could not sling “a six, catch a rifle-sight quick, or pull on a rope.” ‘*He will male a good han bring wood, and water, if nothing more, after he has slathered himself in the latter,” suggest- ed Kit. “ He will make fun for us—PU bet on that; and there is something about him that I like; perhaps ‘tis because he came from the land where my mother first saw light. fering, and needs our kindness; he shall find a friend in me. boys, and has them laughing at his mother-wit. Nothiig except whisky will set an Irishman, back, and ruftle his good humor, and it takes a good deal of that to do it, But there is a motte of live-oaks, and a water-hole near them; we | had better lay by until the sun gets more to the | westward. We can travel some by night, to soake up for lost time.” ‘©Your lips speak wisdom, mo lord. I’m feast; hunger is gnawing at me vitals e fox in the Roman youth’s bosom!” “Halt, boys! Tl give you something to . Do you see that buck? Rather unusual weary; give me rest; but first spread mo a | goodly | While the other scouts and Mike had been eat- | | find ono s0 far down the country as this. He | is two hundred and so Fae away, but I can fetch him with ‘old reliable.’ He'll tako to his heels in about two skips, for he is snuffin’ now, and will get scent of us; the breeze is that way.” a@ subdued, or broken mustang, panting, | The bridle I took from his hee4, | T will | in the mess, to | The Irish | blood in my veins warms toward him, more be- | cause he is forlorn, friendless, ragged, and suf- | T see he is at home with the other | the grass, Kit rode to his game, drew his bowie-knife across the throat of the dying. buck, proceeded to take off the hide, and cut loose for use the hind-quarters, leaving the remainder of the car- cass for the wolves and buzzards. While Kit was occupied in dressing the buck, the other scouts divested their mutsangs of sad- dies and bridles, rubbed down the heated backs of the animals with cool, green grass, staking them out to graze, after allowing them to drink moderately of water in the pool. A fire was soon blazing—Mike making himself generally useful in bringing fuel, water, etc., after which he was seen taking a bath in a small pool on the opposite side of the motte and camp. A good supply of corn-bread, given them by the Rangers at Banketta Creek, was brought from the saddle-bags, and coffee was soon throwing out its fragrant aroma upon the air. Tom Clark camo in with a quarter of the ven- ison, which was, in short meter, carved into steaks, and sputtering on sticks, over the coals, Kit put in an appearance as the dinner was well under way, having staked his horse with the others. He threw down the buckskin, and the other hind-quarter, just’ as Mike came through the motte from his bath, looking much | better than when begrimed with dirt and dust. As the fumes of coffee and fragrant smell of the broiling venison struck his nose, a broad grin of | satisfaction appeared ey his face, and he gave | -vent to his joy by a wild, Irish Hurroo! | “Troth, gintlemin, Taxas isin’t so haythin a counthry, afther all, whin a mon has a good, dacent wash of himself, an’ the prospicts iv a | chance to fill his chist with slashin’s iv mate fit fur alord, the same inviten’ him through his nose. | God bless yees all, fur bein’ friendly to a lone, starvin’ Irishman; sure it’s meself that'll do any | thing to plaze yees, save ateing mate iva Fri- day, or talkin’ ill iv me native bogs.” * You are feeling good, are you, Mike?” asked Kit. ‘‘ I’m glad to see it so, and you'll feel bet- ter when we get you fixed up a little. buckskin will make you a pair of leggings, when it is properly dressed and tanned, and PU show you how to doit. Joo, you area brick at broil- fat dripping on it, or it’s toodry. It ain't like how. A little bacon goes good with it, you bet!” “T tell you what it air, Kit,” said Tom Clark. “Tl be dog-goned if Joe ain’t gay ona br’ile— just browns her to a charm, but when it cums ter bread of Joe’s makin’, t ain’t ther’. Jim, here, says that ae country Joe would, when he was on bread at his mess, kinder hang off till dark, foolin’ around, and then go fur the creek, scoop up water, bugs, lizards, and leaves, sock in his flour, or meal, and salt, mix her up, and bake it. Joe, I don’t eat bugs, an’ such, often, and when I eat bread, [ want her straight.” “Silence! caitiff. Dost take me fora dog, a against me habits? Dost think me existence, me time to linger on this: terrestrial sphere, is | measured by the quality of the staff-of-life I | choose to mix, in an accommodating way, for (such base insignifficant? But. hold! | patience! Thou hast the semblance of a man; act as one, and do not, for the love you bear | your stomach, so rile me ere as to spoil me | appetite, or there will be a lonely, unmarked | grave beside this motte, But this is too grave a | | docile; the recent choking he had received he ) subject. What, ho! me merry men! Come one, | come all! Make this grub fly. Old Sol glides slowly toward the western sky!” | “Joo, PM be gobbled by an alligator-gar, if you don’t alwis make me take water, back down, and cork up. You can sling more mixed- up bosh, what nobody can’t make nothin’ outen, or nobody don’t know nothin’ about, than any | corn-cake spiler this side of Red river. I pass! You alwis have a full hand, or mouth, I sh’wd say. Just gaze at him now, Jim! Kit, is ther’ any of that buck left on.the perrarie, or have the kyotes gone for it? Looks like we’re com- Now Pll be moe if he ain’t gittin’ red in the face! Don’tswaller such big chunks, Joe. Feed | and knock anuther buck over. Look out, Joe! ing a steak; that’s the way to do it. Slip a | piece of fat in between the lean; venison needs | buffalo-steak; the juice or gravy isin’t. in it, no- | Vol. 1, the rattles. By taking one end of the hair be- tween each forefinger and thumb, and working them with a twist movement, the exact imita- | tion of a rattlesnake’s warning could be pre | toward the live-oaks duced, teturning to camp, he slipped this, all prec pared for use, into his south again, and com. menced bantering Joe, as we have seen, then seated himself to satisfy the fnner man. The scouts were all hungry, after their long ride, and Mike partook of the edibles with a gusto nearly equaling his first meal. Mike had perhaps half-satisfied his hungér— had just tore off from a toasting-stick a huge steak and taken in a prodigious mouthful, when Tom, slyly drawing trom his pouch the horge- hair and rattles, took hold of each end of the hair, meanwhile drawing the attention of the party, who were allin the secret except Mike to a bird of beautiful plumage. The thumb and fingers of Tom gave a quick quivering twist to thé hair, and the loud rattle of the pest of the prairies whirred, seemingly just behind Mike. : Ono wild yell of terrifie-fright; a scramble and leap tleat knocked coffee-pot, tin cups, toast- ly | ing sticks and steaks in every direction, and Mike went clear over the heads of those in his front, grasped hold of one of the lower limbs of a live-oak, and in an instant was up the tree, | gazing with bulging eyes, and pale features | down at the scouts, who were all rolling on the |} ground, convulsed with laughter. | fering from the spasy * Howly mother o’ Moses, but the varmint has bit the whole uv’em! ‘roth, there’s nothing but pure good luck, an’ bein’ a divil of a Vaper that saved me. God help thim, and Satan take the shnake! Sure it’s the agonies o’ death they’re sufferin’ an’ it’s here Pil have to shtay till I p wid wakeness, for I’m doomed entirely, if I go | down to be bit by the monsther,” Now and then a word of Mike’s would be | caught by the scouts, between their fits of laugh. | ter, which only served to make them laugh the wilder and louder, until they were actually suf- dic mirth which they Jne look at Miko was could not control: | enough to set them all roaring again, and they This } rolled and kicked about the camp, trying in | vain to calm down. “Sure an’ it’s a horrid death to die, God hélp them! They were good b’ys, an’ what the divil will becum o’ me now?” and crossing him. self Mike began to mutter his prayers. Tom took advantage of this, and worked his way around through the grass until he got be- hind the tree Mike was perched upon. The scouts who had smothered their mirth, knowing Tom’s next move, were laying silent in the grass, their backs toward Mike, not daring | to look at him, for they had laughed themselves ) slave, that thus thou wag’st thy foul tongue | in’ out short, by the way Joe goes through it. | sore, Gently Tom drew himself up on the opposite side of the trunk of the tree from Mike, and just above him. Again the blood-curdling rattle of the deadly snake burst on poor Mike’s ear, and very near to it. Mikedid not have the nerve or time to turn his head. A yell in which was blended horror, deathly terror, and desperation, burst from his lips as he went tearing through the branches to the ground in a heap, but, quick as thought, he was up and off over the prairie in the direction of the horses, and.in another in- | stant he sprung clear astride of the very wild Give me | ‘divil uv a horus,’ Kit had roped. : The fear of the snakes had drowned all fear of anything else. The mustang leaped around, bucked a little, but soon got to the end of his rope, and felt the twitch; then he stopped instantly, and beeame had not forgotten. Mike gathered his feet as high from the ground as he could with safety, and retain his seat, holding on to the horse’s mane with a tight grip. **God help me! wher’ will I go if the shtake was up, sd the horus loose? It’s little ’'a care where he’d take me, if ‘twas only out o? this, where the schnakes ’ll not let a mon ate his din- ner inp’ace. It’s little good what I did ate will do me, bedad, and ’pon me sowl, I never In all me life heard of a schnake that ’ud climb a thray. ‘* Be gorrah, ‘twas little clothes I had upen me back, at all, an’ I'll be naked as Tim. Conner’s | pig, what fell in the vat, if this skarmishin’ goes | decent; chaw the stuff; don’t be skeered; Pll go’ | Save them bones to pick yer teeth; don’t sling | ’em this way. Ha-ha-ha! Hold on, Joe; Til somethin’ to go for.” Tom was the last toseat himself at the dinner simmer down; reckon Ill feed, too, while there’s | | circle to enjoy the feast of venison, corn-pone | and coffee. | ing he had stepped out, seemingly to givo his horse more space to feed over, by lengthening his lariat, but his real purpose was to procure a long hair from the animal’s tail. In tho middle of this hair he made a loop, and, taking the rat- tles he had cut from the snake, killed by him in the morning, from his bullet-pouch, he inserted | the same in the loop and drew it tight around on much longer. Sure, I wonder if it’s all dead they are? ‘roth, the varmint might ’a’ spared one for company—Mr. Kit onyhow, as daceant a mon as I'll find, high or lew, an’ how the divih he e’w’d contint himself among schnakes I can’t think. “Twas a black day fur me TI left Kill-a- nie-thomas, an’ sure the schnakes “Hl Kill-ne afore lever see it and Mary ag’in, bad Inck te ‘em, sure, whatever were they made fur? Thank God, an’ St. Patrick, there’s none in ould fre- land.” A halflozen pistol shots now gave Mike a fresh alarm, only to be turned to joy, as he looked toward the camp, from which direction the reports bad come, and discovered all the scouts on their feet and thrashing around in the grass with sticks. _ A yell from Kit, for Mike to return to cama,
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Rigg No, was not noticed by the latter, who still held for dear life te’ the mustang’s mane, who had nearly -guec0eeded in throwing Mike to the ground, be- ing alarmed by the reports of the pistols, Kit was forced to go to Mike and persuade him toreturn and finish his dinner, telling him dhe snakes were all killed. ** Sure it’s yersel’s I was thinkia’ was kilt en- | rely,” said Mike, as he slowiy and reluctantly went back to the motte, witu Kit, keeping a wandering, nervous gaze upon the grass he was bo tread. Most anybody but Mike would have noticed the half-concealed mirth which was shown | eed upon the countenances of the scouts, ut he was so eagerly watching for snakes, ex- | erage the awful warning rattle any moment, bat he did not notice how the boys had suf- fered from an over-supply of fun, ** Are yees sure yees killed thim all, Misther Kit, an’ there’s not a devil of a won lurking around? ‘** What was yees all rolling on the grass fur, an’ yellin’ so harud? Faith, it’s bifi be the schnakes I thought yees all was, and I left alone agin in this cuss ev a c’unthry; I thought be this, yees wud all be dead ontirer . _ Kit Carson, Jr., the Crack Shot of the West. Gg as a bull-alligator. That must be Clown. I reckon. ’tis; was with me last night. ‘* Let’s see, what was up;” and Jack drew his legs up on the seat, clasped his hands. about his knees, and commenced to think. ‘Oh, yes; recomember now; row at the fan- dang’; shootin’, an’ cuttin’, an’ ’m danged if I don’t think Clown and me swore off on whisk’; and here [ am with cobwebs clean down to my gizzard. Oh, yes; Clown! wake up and h’ist yersel’. outen that boot or I'll bu’st yer bugle. ‘‘{ want yer right here, afore Jim drives up from the Menger. None yer shenanagin now; projuce yerself!” Tho snoring ceased; a rumbling and kicking issued from the stage-boot; a scramble, an oath Yes, | or two, delivered with marked emphasis, and | j { ‘Misther Kit, can a schnake climb a tree? | Sure thays has no futs at all, at all.” ‘*] reckon we killed them all, Milz. You see we were rolling around, and yelling, to frighten them away. to their climbing trees, a very ge snake can do it,” ‘Wakes, be the rattle ev him he was a row- ser, an’ a lucky mon I was to eskape him. Be the powers, he had the back ev me head in his mouth, as he Vaped frum the thra!” ‘** Well, Mike, never mind the tarnal snakes; let us finish our grub,” and the scouts, almost dead with the laughing-fits they had passed #hrough, once more seated themselves, collected the scattered repast and utensils, and finished their dinner without coffee, Mike giving an anxious look at intervals up into the branches of the live-oak, or a sudden jerk of his head backward, as a rustle of the grass struck his watchful ears. OHAPTER VI. THE TWO PRAIRIE GUIDES. Ovr friends, Jaé& and Clown, whom we left asleep inside the coach which was standing op- posite Sappington’s stable, were awakened the next morning early by the arrival of the stage from Austin City, driven by Jim Harding, who | blew a merry good-morning to San Antonio on his bugle as he came within the city limits. There wasn’t an old stager within the boun- daries of the Lone Star State who could put maore life and vim into a bugle than Jim Hard- | img, hold the lines or suap a whip with more grace, although he was young at the business, as well as in years. He took great pride in his team, and when entering a town made them show to advantage. This particular morning Jim was full inside and out, or at least his coach was, and he bowled along with his six fat and frisky nags, who made the wheels hum, and the drowsy Pewengers to make fresh grips, to steady them- selves. Past the stable, and the coach where our friends were reposing, or just beginning to be broken of the heavy sleep which follows drink- ing, to the ponies to throw out the mails, : © Plaza, diagonally, to Commerce street, over the bridge, and up to the Menger House, where the passengers, glad to get to the end of their long journey of eighty miles, cramped in a stage coach, crawled out in avery stiff manner and hobbled into the hotel. The porters soon yanked the baggage ail clear of the ‘‘ boots,” and Jim’slong whip sent the team on their way to Sapp’s stable to feed and lay over until the return trip. ca tors that Jack was awakened by Jim’s e. erhaps there was nothing upon earth, an eighty-four pound. battery counted in, that would bring Jack from the vrorld of nod quick- er, or make him wider awake, than a stage- le. e sat up on the back seat, rubbed his eyes, which were very badly inflamed, and not in- clined to open as wide as Jack thought they compe to. - ; t+ was rather dark yet, especially inside the coach. Tt¢ scemed to Jack, after a good rubbing to no effect, that he would have to wait awhile before his eyes would be able to do their accustomed | duty, so he put out his hands, and felt about him, as he could not remember his exact where- abouts. As soon as his hands came in contact with the plush, and feit the buttons behind his resting-place, he knew, immediately: where he was. “Tm O. K.; danged if Iain’t. Didn’t. know, fer sure, where I was. Kinder keerful since I went and camped on the bridge, got up in a hurry, bein’ dry, and walked inter. the eto borflamux clean over miy head. I reckon I took ix: maere water at wonst than ever afore or aines; had a surprise party in my stomach. Heloci who’s thet snorin’? Makes as much fuss then the heavy fall of some weighty ‘ound WwW ee y to the make more fuss about gittin’ out of bed than ford. Clown? Yer feel kinder top-heavy, I reckon, as I do myself. Crawl in here afore Jim Harding drives up; rub yer bruises inside here, and next time look where yer drivin’.” : Faint streaks of light shot up from the east- | time T’lk talk of them. . | want, Jim; spit her out. ell! Til just be dog-goned if you don’t | there until I get outen this coach. Come an, Clown! Jim, you're the most sensible cuss that ever sprung a, brake or shapped a whip. Easy! Im shaky on the pins. Kinder loose every Two or three drinks’il fetch me up O. K. Jim, did yer sce anything of Seott or Jim Dudley this trip, or Green? But, dang the odds, if. yer did or. not just now; some other Let’s just h’ist ourselves for Bob's.” And, arm in arm, Jim in the middie, they tarned the corner of the Main Plaza, and were soon at Bob Caile’s bar. “ Lingswider!” said Jack, “‘you just hustle yerself around here lively, and mix Clown and me the stiffest cocktails you ever decocted vwith- in the extended term of years in which you have distributed fiuids. I don’t know what you If it’s charapeahe i? ct *twon’t set me back. Id take it myself | would take the pain_outen my upper works. Jim Dudley does drivin’ down the Gaudaloupe | What the devil’s up, ov down, with yer, | | ing my drinks. Slap ’em up, George, ’'m powerful thirsty, and Van Wells will be knockin’ around soon, count- He says I can chamber more’n any man in San Antone, except John Arm- strong. Old Cap. was shot hero yesterday, Jim, but you'll hear of more shootin’ to-day that | come off last night, Irec’on. But, here we are! ward, lightening up things so the boys could see | each other. ‘* You are the dangest lookin’ cuss of a Clown I ever did see, but, let’s talk this thing over. I want to know, fustly, if we really and truly did swear off ‘>kin’ any more whisk’, last night?” “Tm sorry to say—I’m cussed sorry to say— that we did, Jack. We were a pair of fools to drink so much, fustly, and a dang sight worse fools to sware off takin’ any more, not even countin’ in a few oe op in a tapering way.” ‘* Well, it’s settled, then, that we did sware off; the next question is, air 8 man or men re- | sponsible, or can a person be held on an oath taken when he’s just a-b’ilin’ over with p’ison? That’s what must be decided; cussed quick, too, ” “*T don’t kno’ nothin’ about law, Jack; reckon we'd better wait for Jim; he knows a heap about everything. If he don’t come mighty quick, I reckon Tl be forced ter decide it, one way or the other, myself.” ‘* What's that on the bottom of the coach, Clown? A snake? take care. Don’t touch the tarnal thing!” : ‘Ha, ha, hal Ho, ho, ho! Jack. Yer wuss | gone ’n I thought. That’s a halter. sw’arin’ wa’n’t good last night, I rec’on we'd bet- If that | ter make it good—try her over—that is, after | we have had two or three good straighteners | | Stay by him; they took another to keep it com- to keep the cracks closed in our brain-boxes.” ‘““Now yer talkin’, Clown; now yer suit me. Yes, I rec’on we will do that same. here’s Jim. Blest if he ha’n’t got twelve hitch- ed on, a double-lashed whip, and his twin brother along with him! Curse that double- barreled whisky! How de do, Jim! What's the news? Good news? How.de feel?” “Well! I'll never crack another whip or pull another line if you boys ain’t the hardest-looking | pair I’ve seen since I drove on the Pacific slope among th» Digger Injuns.” “You can bet your last bit that we look a blamed. sight better’n we feel. boys unhitech and shove yerself this way. I want you for a few fleeting periods.” Halloo! | Tet the stable | | there I’m hunk. | stay where I put it. =) Here’s yours; Clown. Takin’ ginger-pop, are ye, Jim? Well, s’pose you got to sleep ay to be fresh next trip. Here’sfun. I hope it’ll make us feel better, Clown.” And the boys poured down their drinks, sat the my glasses upon the bar, and Jack wiped off his mouth with his sleeve, saying: ‘That goes to the right spot; if it7ll only stay Vll walk up and down the bar; Clown, you sling the news at Jim; I don’t feel like talkin’ just now. I want this drink to There goes George Horner. Come near buttin’ right ag’in’ that post; hell have to wear goggles soon or burst his. bugle.” And Jack walked up and down the bar-room, thinking of his proposed trip to the Rio Grande, of his word given to Miss Martha Wells that he would escort her through—of how he was go ing to make things come out smoother and give up drinking—of his broken pledge, which rather rankled in his conscience, notwithstanding Jim Harding’s decision. Jack had not the remotest idea of letting rum interfere with his arrange ments with Martha Wells, and he resolved to | take just enough to steady him, get a good, rare beef-steak and cup of strong coffee, then go and see her. Clown, with some thececjren 2 told Jim in re- gard to the shooting scrape at the fandango, and by the time he was through, Jack had come to the conclusion that his first drink was going to pany; then all adjourned to the Plaza House, and told Bill Miller, the clerk, to order them a good breakfast; after which Jim Harding re tired to sleep, being fatigued after driving al night. Clown and Jack, feeling like new men, went to Clown’s room, spruced up and shaved, then went to the residence of the Widow Wells. Martha met them at the door with a warm greeting, and Mrs. Weils bustled around to seaf em, “Jack, I am so glad to see you; and you, also, Clown. I have been expecting you — | time, but suppose I am very impatient. ‘What's up, Jack? You look as though you'd | been playing Mazeppa, cords broke loose, and you got a drag. drove in last? Acrost the Staked Plains?” ‘‘ Never you mind where we've bin; but, look- a-here; you shet up, Clown! I'll put it to Jim, square, Now, Jim, Clown and I, after ‘we cleaned out the fandang’ last night—lively | time, by the way—you see, Clown had been huntin’ with Bob Caile, Shipley, and Bill Rod- ers. That’s enough for P fete I rec’on, to know ut how he was, and I was rather so, so, t admit. pourin’ down any more p’ison—’twas out ther’ on the Plaza, by moonlight (rather dull moon- light, wa’n’t it, Clown?) not very ee, no! We swore off on ’count of a trip to the Rio Grande that won't admit of fluids of strong character. drink. I see jim-jams ahead, sure, unless I taper; couldn’t stand a sudden haul up; wreck my coach, anyhow. This are the question; are them oaths we took bindin’ on us, situated as we were, excited, full of p’ison, it not bein’ very | light at the time, and no Bible nearer’n the ca- | thedral, an’ we not believin’ in that?’ “ Well, boys, I’ve knocked around amid the confines of this continent considerable, but I must say I never drove against two such con- summate fools as you are, to hang around here, fr the gills for a drink, and not go and get it. 1ere you boys been since I | Well, like a pair of fools we swore oif | Now, Jim, we’re just dead fur a | : | I don’t pretend to know much about | law, bat I think it would be a highfalutin old | court that would take any evidence on cath~ a pickayune for your oaths.’ “Ss iold on, Jim,- that’s enuf; that’s talkin’; I slip overall .the -hard gab you've slung at | from 1 man when he’s drunk. | I wouldun’t give’| : | you appoint. | ranged to.cet off sosoon. I's us; @ feller is bound: to, take almost anything ; when-he’s dry that’s got the vim to it. Hore! ! pub her right there, Shake, pard, and keep it i‘ Now, that is enough of that kind of tall. oe be SS ek ea ah ap. oF PEP ee Pe, Yeah Si 4 * 3 = 4 — hope, Clown, you will go with us. Jack has, of course, told you what we propose to do?” ‘Yes, Miss Martha; I am ready at a minute’s notice to serve you, and reckon we can go through safe, with good horses.” “ Certainly, Miss Martha; Clown will go any- where with me, and is always ready to do a good turn to fhe ladies.’ He is a great friend of your mother’s.” “Yes,” said Mrs. Wells, ‘‘ Ihave known Clown | longer than I have you, Jack, and al I think it a very dangerous undertaking, Martha ,.->poses, I do not know of any two men in the State I would trust her with, and feel more confident of protection, than to hen 9 “They would have to kill us h, Mrs. Wells,” answered Jack, ‘‘ tefore they could karnz her, be they Greasers, outlaws, or ans; but we must fix things, come to an understan as to the start, and tricks to take with away. iI propose we start right from at ten o’clock to-night, cross the river at the old ford, by the foot-bridge, pass General Twiggs’ house, and down the river trail, as though we were a-going toward the coast, instead of across country. Then we will recross the river at San Jose, strike through the musquits to the Medi- na. By so doing we will, if eny one sees us, who would work us harm, put them on the bch. scent. Clown and myself will be ready here a’ ten, sharp. We will have arms, amnvunition, provisions, coffee-pot, tin cups, and haga 0 —each taking a pair of large saddle- ou better not load your horse enough to bo you, Miss Martha. “Will you be ready?” “Oh, yes, Jack, I shall bo ready at the time i think you shor excellent judg- Tam so a you have ar- shall never forges your kindness, gentlemen, 2nd hope to repay it, sometime.” ment in your plans.
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10 The Migs Martha; but we must bid you ing. Mary, 1 suppose, is at school. Mrs. Wells, don’t you worry; we will take good care of Miss | We have so many things to do, to get | | rec’on. Martha. ready, that we must be at work.’ “] wish you could stop longer, Jack, but sup- pose you have much to attend to. I shall hope and pray for you all the time you are gone,” said . Wells, as she bade good-morning to Jack and Clown; at the door, The two tipped their sombreros and walked toward the stable. : l i-morn- keeping, shouldered their rifles, walked to San | | Antonio, bought horses, bridles, blankets and tricks, joined the Rangers under Capt. Burleson, and have been a-fighting for the State since, I You ought to guess who they were by | this time. ‘Clown, what kinder specimens of gentlemen | do yer think Miss Martha w’u’d ’a’ thought us had she 1 into our coach lodgin’-house this mornin’ ok-a-here, Clown, as long as you travel with me, don’t yer ‘low me to git so full of whisky ag’in. You just lead me into a stall, tie me. up, hobble me, but don’t let me guzzle like that ag’in. Makes me feel way down below folks more so than I am; I’m glad we are goin’ intodecent company, and where rum are scarce, ain’t you, old boy?” **Can’t say but what I am, but I shall take a | bottle along, for I know how you'll foel ag’in to- morrow mornin’.” Ten o’clock, rather a dark night it was, and being so, was more favorable for our friends to make the start for the Rio Grande. The cathedral bell had. just ceased its gloomy elamor when Jack and Clown dismounted, loosened the ropes, from the loops of their sad- dle-horns, and entered the gate of Mrs. Wells’ residence, still holding on the lariats, attached to the necks of two fiery mustangs that pawed and stamped the sward by the fence, But a dim light shone through the Venetian blinds, as they stepped up to the door, and gave a gentle tap.. The door swung open noiselessly ; the dreamy light of a single candle cast its hazy rays from the back portion of the apartment, and in its doubtful light, by the doorway, stood Miss Martha, attired in a beautifully embroi- ered suit of buckskin, ornamented profusely with silver buttons along the seams, which were also deeply fringed; a soft sombrero, one side looped up with a five-pointed silver star, and a long black plume gracefully drooping behind— that all gave a brigandish loolx to her supple, graceful form. A Sharpe’s carbine, slung from her shoulder by a strap, made up, with ‘her high-legged rid- ing-boots, and long-roweled Mexican spurs, a regular Ranger rig, er hair being cut even with her shoulders, and skin darkened, she did not look any more feminine than many of the boy Rangers then in the service of the State, Her mother, with tears flowing, and sobbing convulsively, came with her, to bid good-by to the boys and a long farewell to her daughter. “Take good care of my girl, Jack and Clown, and bring her back to me safe. God bless you, and protect you, from all harm!” A silent shaking of hands all around, and Martha, too full of grief at parting, and the wight of her mother’s tears, to speak, stepped around the house, and in another instant ap- red before them, mounted on White Cloud, or the road. Quickly, Jack and Clown recoiled the ropes, looped them to the saddle-horns, mounted, and all three dashed down the street. San Antonio was, at that time, frequented by vagrant Mexicans, and outlaws, only too eager to take advantage of any party starting out from the town, who were not strong enough to hold their own against them: hence the silence and precaution used by our friends. The ford was past; the now silent old under- shot water-wheel, covered with slime and moss, was left behind. Past the residence of General Twiggs, and they were soon in the down-river trail, among the musquits. __ “ Spur up, Miss Martha; we must make the next eight miles in short time. Come on, Clown!’ Dashing the spurs home into the flanks of their horses, they bounded on like the wind, down San Juan and Horse Shoe Bend. m, on, a wild gallop, and they came, inside of half an hour, to Granger’s Ranch, just across from Jose. Halt!” Short and quick came the command from the og of Jack, and the three stood oppo- site a small, deserted log-cabin, with thatched roof, and one side open to the weather. “Tf never pass here, Miss Martha, without stopping, and looking at that little cabin. Who not say, Jack,” answered Miss artha, ‘Well, Pll tell you. Two years ago two boys, who came away from Leominster, Massachu- setts—I never have been ther’, but I know it’s ~ Aig g north, a thousand lea their heads full of romance and love of adven- one readin’ Cooper, I rec’on) got a sig scene of the massacre, aol tg fied them about Mr. Lo.; they broke up house- { | haven’t slept much of late, What yer laughin “Oh, Jack, Iam so glad you came this way. I never could find the cabin, and have looked often. I have heard so much of the boy ranch- eros, the boy Rangers, Buckskin Sam and Reck- | | less Joe, even before I knew them personally. I love every log in the dear little cabin.” ‘Yes, I know all that, but we must dash on. Nobody thinks any more of those boys than Jack; but we have long miles before ts,” and | again the trio galloped through the river bot- tom, crossed the ford past the dark gloomy walls of San Jose, and entered the musquits, that stretch to the Medina river. They now took an easy gait, having done all they could to throw any enemy off their trail. ‘* Well, Miss Martha; I hope the brisk ride hasn’t seb you back any. We better camp on the Medina, below the ford, in the bottom tim- ber, where nobody will notice us, and have a rest, as you will have to make long stages after we got beyond the oak openings and on tho open prairies that lay out flat to the Nueces river. ‘*T do not feel tired, Jack; I often take a gal- | lop down to San Jose, of an evening, for exer- cise, but we will camp whenever and wherever you choose. You are chief of scouts, in this command. How do you feel, Clown?” “Well, Miss Martha, I have never felt what you may call well since [ was shot to pieces by the Reds, but I make out to get through wher- ever chance sends me, somehow. I’m more at home now than in San Antonio. I don’t feel easy among tho houses. The prairies for me, every time!” ‘“‘¥ do not blame you for loving the plains and woods. Nature has charms which no one with any poetry or religion in his nature can but rev- erence and admire. The works of God throw the pigmy efforts of man into insignificance. The mountains, canons, prairies, rivers, woods, rocks and streams, have all their separate won- ders and beauties, to say nothing of the various variéties of birds, beasts, fish and insects that | But how dark it I do not un- are found in or about them. seems in these musquit thickets. derstand how you can possibly know where you | are going, Jack, for I see no stars to guide you to-night. “T know every inch of this country, Miss Martha; we are now in a more clear trail, and can lope a little faster, We'll soon get to good grass and water. Mx head feels kinder funny; and gruntin’ bout, Clown? You can’t say but what you have had your regular rations of | sleep. Miss Martha, we shall have to run a lasso noose around his nose, and draw her tight every night, or he will bring a war-party down on us; he can out-snore any bull alligator in Buffalo Bayou.” “Don't you fret, Jack; I know when I’m on the plains, and when I’m in town. I never snore when it would be dangerous, and when I wake up I generally know where I am, and don’t have to feel around and scratch my head to get my exact locate!” ‘See here, Clown, you make more fuss about a little thing than a rattlesnake in dog-lays, and your speech are about as p’ison as its | ‘Were you playin’ off sleep yesterday | breath. mornin’?” “Pl leave that for you to guess, Jack; but what's up with you, now? Ride on if you don’t see nothin’; if yer do, say so, and what it is!” “TI jusb bet my life ‘1 see three—well, never mind; ride up, Clown! Miss Martha, you drop behind a minute.” As Clown rode up to Jack, he was asked by the latter, in a hurried whisper, if he did not notice something wrong just ahead to the right. Clown spurred up through the brush, but found nothing to attract his attention. “ What in thunder’s the matter, Jack? What'd yer think yer see?” ; Jack leaned over on his horse, and whispered in Clown’s ear, ‘‘ Three Reds, Vl bet my seulp!” “That’s danged nonsense. If there had ’a’ been yer couldn’t ’a’ seen ’em here; yer getten’ flighty ag’in. Take a snifter outen this bottle; it'll fetch yer owt hunk, for a while.” — The gurgle, gurgle of the liquor, as it flowed down Jack's throat, was drowned to the ears of Martha Wells by the swashing of the branches as they were parted by the horses’ legs. ; ‘Now, Clown, you just bet that’s gay. Right to the spot she went, thank ye. Yer the most sensible cuss I ever knocked around with. Mustn’t let Miss Martha know nothin’ about my bein’ shaky; mum’s the word. Ride up, Miss Martha!” sung out Jack, feeling much better after taking a nip. Ride up between us; the trail, such as it are, widens hore.” Miss Wells came dashing up between her two protectors, “There are two things that bother me on the start, Miss Martha, muchly,” said Jack, ‘TT assure you, Jack, if is a surprise to me to hear ‘you say an bothers you, for you are always ap y . & seems to poll aang New York Library. ~ Vol, L ** Don’t you believe yourself; my face, eg everybody’s, contains a great deal that is false in it. When I am happy, or look so, Iam some- times blue; and now I am powerfully taken back by your havin’ a white horse; it seems un-~ lucky to me. The Reds, or Greasers, or any- body, for that matter, what’s got eyes can see a white horse.in the night, when a bay, brown vr black would not be seen at all, and if I had only thought, you could have ridden a black of mine that’s over to Charley Pyron’s ranch, or at leash we are now right on his range, but it’s too late | to make the change.” “Well, Jack, there is one consolation; if they | de see White Cloud they will have a hard time of it to catch him if I am riding him, There | ave but few horses his equal for speed and en- durance.” “‘ Tt’s a good thing to make a long or fast run, but it’s a better thing to avoid both on a lo trail. Howsomever, I a 06 things will come ou hunk. In spite of myself, Miss Martha, I can’t help from biting off my words and using slang; it’s hard enough in towh, but worse in the bu I can talk as straight as a West Pointer, or any other waxed-mustached galoot, but I scorn te do it. I always try in the presence of ladies, but you see that’s not often, or long at a time, ‘Don’t you curb your tongue for me, Jack, When you are on the prairies, do as the prairie men do,” “Now, you please me muchly, for I have caught you using a stable word. The other thing you haven't asked me about. What bothers me is calling you Miss Martha; you are acting as a man, and make a splendid-looking one, | must admit. We must get up a name to fit you in your_new character. What do you say to ‘‘Young Reliable.” You carry an ‘Old Reliable” rifle, and I’m so used to them, and Clown, too, we will be able to catch at the name | quick. Suppose we call you Rely, for short?” | _ ‘*Thave no objections to the name, Jack, bua shall have to rely upon you to put me in mind of | it at times; I may lose my identit y.” “Oh, you will soon get used to the name, and it is necessary, for various reasons. Here we are | in tall timber; the river isn’t'a hundred yards | away, and we have struck the gully where [ | intended, We can make a fire without its being | seen. We'll ride in, unsaddle, and take our nage out to grass among the musyuits.” Just at the foot of a huge pecan tree, the saddles, tricks and traps were deposited. Rely (as we must in future call Miss Wells}, refused all assistance, and was ready with her nag as soon as the boys, showing that she was used to taking care of her horse, Jack took his own and Rely’s animal, and: leaving Rely to see to the camp, went out to find a good grazing spot, followed by Clown, leading his mustang, They soon found suitable places, gave the ani- mals good length of rope to get plenty of grass, and started on the return. ‘Look-a-here, Jack; do you see any more Iny juns or snakes, or do yer winkers quiver any! fso, take another pull at the root of all evil, What's in that bottle has got to straighten us up, you know. You just gobble down all tha fat bacon and strong coffee you can; they’re good for ye; an’ I'll give yer a chance ter sleep, by standin’ the fust watch till about two o’clock, I’m‘ too narvous myself to sleep, and don’t care to. Often go two or three nights without sleep. When you wake up I hope you'll know where you are,” Jack took a long pull at the bottle, and with- drew the same from his lips, as Clown’s speeth ended, “* See here, Clown; yer better cork up on thas trail; haul in yer slack tongue or yer might get boosted.” i “Tm agoing to cork up right here, and you don’t get another drink until we start off in thet mornin’, and it must be early, too, to clear the houses afore they’re a If yer go to gettin’ at all sassy, I’ll bu’st the bottle. “ Now don’t do thaf, pard; some on vs might eé snake-bit. I feel that way in my bones. ’m justasmumasamummy. Save the bottle and whats in it; that’s a good pard.” By this time they came to the tree where Rely sat with the saddles. A fire was soon made and a midnight lunch eaten; then the scouts formed a bower of branches to shield Rely from the heavy dew, and she lay down to rest, and Jack, also, at the head of the gully, w Clown meandered back and forth between the sleepers and the horses, the owls hooting oves his head, the distant bark of the cayotes, and the faint ripple of the river being the only breake to the stillness of the night. CHAPTER VIL RESACA DE LA PALMA—A DASTARDLY DEER The western waves of ebbing day Rolled o'er the glen their level way; But not a setting beam could glow Within the dark rayines below. The wanderer's eye could barely view Go womivons wild, sh0 whole ‘alga | wondrous @ who! seers, The scenery of a fairy dream, Four days after we left our scouts ensamped at the post oak motte, and where Mike O'R? i
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Pe Face oar ta = No. 3 had enough rattlesnake experience to last him for a long time, we overtake them away down | country. The boys had made good time, and Mike got | so he could ride the “ divilev a horus.” A red woolen shirt, given him by Kit, with the log- tter appearance than when we last saw him, but the want of a sombrero'was felt badly, as he had nothing to shield his head from the. hot gun except a handkerchief. Our scouts, after a long day’s ride, begrimed with dust, weary and worn, were just entering tho dark shades of chaparral, that border on the ngs from the buck hide, gave him a somewhat | Resaca de la Paima; to their left, and eastward | tched the prairic battlefield of Palto Alto, the rank grass growing over the graves of Mexi- can and American soldiers. They soon pene- trated the chaparrals and were in the cool shade of palms, on the banks of the chain of water- holes, too sluggish to be called a stream. | Although the sun shone hot upon the plain be- | nd, and overbead, not one single ray pene- | rated the dense foliage of palms and rank creepers that strove to smother the trees upon which they depended for support. The horses were unsaddled immediately, rubbed down, and allowed to drink; then Mike and Tom Clark proceeded up-stream to fimd an | opening for them to graze, while the other =] Ls] ’ scouts proceedéd to make a fire and prepare tho | meal so much needed by them after the long ride. | breast, and another in Large numbers of waterfowl were in the waters | of the Resaca, and were so tame they were en- abled to knock then over by crawling up to the | rushes; so they had a change from their regular bill of fare, and a bountiful repast was before | the fire in a short time. They were now within six miles of Fort Brown, right in the lurking places of Cortinas stragglers, where these bandits pounced upon those leaving or entering the fort, murdering and robbing them, Mike and Tom Clark had perhaps been gone with the horses fifteen min- utes, when the scouts by the fire were brought to their fect by a wild yell from Mike, who came tearing through the brush like a madman, his face pale as death with terror, and fell in a heap within the camp, speechless with fear, and | trembling like an-aspen. Kit took him by the collar and sat him up | against a tree, giving him a good shake. here’s Tom, and “What's up now, Mike? Spit it out, quick, or | I p 1 , Ill choke it out of you. V what have you seen?” The scouts grasped their rifles and Mike came in, and now stood eagerly watching the point | from which he came, e that quarter, or danger in some form, Mike gave a heavy sigh, turned his faee up the creek, the horror still photographed ther anticipation. At last he found his tongue, and holding the leg of Kit with a tight grasp, as though he was his only savior, he broke out: “Be the great God abuy’ us, Mr. Kit, show me out o’ this and don’t be afther askin’ me what I’ve seon; sure it’s nothin’ w'u’d make me fale, as I’m after falin’ at this prisent moment, but murther. Musha, my God, what’s that} Horooh, it’s Misther Tom, safe and sound. Heaven be praised, an’ it’s himself that can tell yees the tale 0’ blood that lays yondher. God spare me such another sight like that same so long as me name’s Mile O’ Keefe!” At this juncture Tom Clark came in sight parting the brush with both hands, and showed ance equally as pale as Mike's, but de- | @conn cting an attack trom ) yoid of.the terror that individual had manifest- | ed, but in its place, acting in brotherhood with the set teéth, was a stern most startling combination of hatred and unsat- isfied revenge, that told something of more than nnusual moment had come over him. He did not advance to the camp, but stood there, gazing at his brother scouts. “By all the Gods of ancient Greece what | means ‘this mystery? Art thou me father’s ghost? If so, await the mystic hour of mid- night before thou haunt’st me'vision!” exclaimed Reckless Joe. Tom turned on his heel and faced the thicket from which he had just emerged, giving the game beckoning gesture made by the ghost in Hamlet, but there was no show of burlesque in his manner; the same singular blended look rested upon his countenance. ‘*Umhand me, slaves! Pll follow thee if to determination—a | me death. What tis I can’t conceive, but see- | ing is to believe,” cried Joe. ‘Jim Bearfield, stay by the camp. We'll see anderstand what’s up. manded Kit. Seeing that Tom did not come into camp for his Sharpe's rifle, they knew no immediate dan- ger threatenod, and so only took their side Come on, boy!” com- again. This refrain sung, or wailed, in so strange a manner, in so strange a place, by so youthful a voice, was, as Reckless Joe. muttered, ‘‘ passing strange.” Tom gave a warning hiss, from between his | teeth, as he parted the brush; the scouts fol--| lowed, and found themselves on the margin of | one of the many openings frequent in the chap- | arrals, they being without tree or bush, covered with rich musquit grass, and favorite places for camping. When the scouts broke through the branches, 11 SR isn’t a-going to lose them for a day’s ride; he will be here after them this eve, by dark. Joe Booth, you and Tom Clark lay low in -that wagon, with your Colit’s sixes, and don’t let any- thing that comes into this opening that looks or smells Greaser goout again. They'll besure to be smoking cigarettes, there is such a bad odor here, and. that'll give you a chance for sure shots.” Tom and Joe crawled under the wagon cover. to watch for their inhuman game, and Kit anc | the other scouts tenderly bore the wounded ‘bo | upon the blanket to the camp. and ali stood together by the side of Tom, a | | ror they found that the flies had blown the sight was spread ‘before them that sent the biood from their faces, and left them blanched | as death—a sight that sent a thrill of horror | through their frames—a. sight that would be ohotographed upon their brains as long as life Tasted, were it a thousand years. Not fifteen feet from them lay the swollen mutilated corpse of a man, covered with blood and clotted gore, the clothing torn in shreds from his mangled form; but this was a sight too common to these men to cause the feelings so plainly stamped upon their faces. there, upon the dead, sun-bloated corpse of the man, sitting astride of it, was his little son, | of the stabs in head and breast. Laying him carefully upon a mossy bank they gently bathed his wounds. To their hor: wounds, and maggots were crawling in and out They dressed the wounds in a primitive manner and water was kept dropping upon them. His moaning cry to his oxen—he was wont ta assist his father to drive—was still kept up; but | in a fainter voice, and it was plain to see he h seven years of age, blood oozing from a stab in | the little fellow’s gr sie froma gash in his | iis wrist. The poor suffering lad had torn away his clothing, in his agony, nearly to nakedness; the blood dad flowed frecly from his wounds, and dried upon his person, by the hot sun, present- ing a horrible contrast to the white, delicate | | skin, made more livid by the loss of his life-giv- | | wild ery of horror, sprung into the air, and fel fe held a whip in his hand, one end of the | 3 staff resting upon the ground, being too weak to | hold it up, and gazed at the scouts with a vacant | | stare of insanity, as he kept up his unearthly ing thrid. chant: “ Whoa, ‘Nig! Get up along, Spot! What yer doin’ there, Whitey?’ striving in vain to | lash his oxen, that lay dead and swollen but a few feet from him. Siient as death were the chaparrals; not a zephyr caused the tremble of a leaf; a score of filthy buzzards were gorging themselves upon the entrails of the oxen, which they had ex- tracted from the animals by an art, aided by instinct entirely their own; a pack of cayotes slunk cowardly from the opening into shadows of the bush; ten thousand buzzing flies hovered around the fast decaying carcasses of the animals, and a horrid, sickening stench filled the hot, hazy air. monotonous chant of the wounded insane boy, arding the dead body of his murdered father Froain the wolves, trembled in quivering tones upon the air: ‘ Whoa, Nig! Get up along, Spot! W hat yer doin’ there, Whitey?” and each and every cry, or sigh of pain, or puff of his breath, sent out a thin spray of blood from the wound not many hours to live. The untasted meal lay drying up by the camp-fire; the scouts bent over the dye boy, hoping his reason would return before death. he darkness beneath the palms became more dense, for the sun had sunk into the western sea, and by the flickering rays of the fire the scouts still watched the little sufferer, His moans ceased, and his faint breath came and went, with hardly a tremor, as the quick, sharp detonations of several revolver shot» sounded loudly through the chaparrals from the direction of the scene of the murder. As the first reports, almost together, broke the awful stillness of the camp, the boy gave's a corpse at the feet of the watchers. “Come on for the wagon, boys; all’s over with the poor lad, Come on for veng’ance There’s more’n one Greaser come for the jacket, and the boys may want help,” were Kit’s wards. The scouts sprung through the now dark chay arrals toward the wagon in which Joe and Tom had awaited the return of the Mexicans | for the jacket and knife, the | As they neared the scene of the murder, a bright light broke upon them, showing them their way, and when they reached the opening the wagon was in a blaze, while Joe and Ton were galloping around upon the horses, with Ps silver-mounted saddles and bridles upom them. The seouts from the camp stopped on the border of light in ‘astonishment, and Tom and | Joe, seeing them, rode up to their conirades. The scouts stood riveted to the spot, tears | streaming down their cheeks—a strange sight } ey | for such men to be seen in tears—while the same | his eyes still gazing or glaring with a dreadful in his breast, showing the lungs were pene- | trated. Gently as women the scouts stepped up to the maniac child, and took the whip from his feeble grasp, raised him carefully from his father’s corpse, and laid him in the shade, on the border of the opening. committed twenty-four hours before. The boy The murder must have been | must have been left for dead, but had recovered | and watched over his father’s body, without. food or water for that time, which was enough | to have driven him mad, had he not been wounded. These Were the conclusions of the scouts at a glance, _ Bill Mann brought water in his hat, and bathed the young lad and sent a stream down his throat; the other scouts left him in Bill’s care; the thing now in order was, who were the murderers? Kit made his plans quickly. “Step easy, boys! Bill George, you go back | I to camp for a blanket to carry the poor lad in on. Joe, you streak it right across the opening. Tom Clark, you circuit the south, and Jim Bear- field, you lay around on the north. Now, boys, do your best looking for signs; don’t pass a | I'll see to | | but at single spear of grass that talks trail. things here about the wagon.” All separated to gather evidence of the mur- derers; the opening was a book which they must read, Kit had not been ten minutes about the wagon and the dead—which were stripped of every- ] i | thing of value—when he found, under an old what this means. For the life of me, I cannot | saddle blanket, evidently left by mistake, a _ beautifully embroidered buckskin jacket, with | a gold hilted stiletto, engraved with the name of Jose Garcia. ates, Tom preceding them but a few paces, | altered his plans, when a very singular voice, for that secluded , broke upon their ears. It was that issued from his lips, and in an instant the other ef a young lad, a wild, weird wail, a monoton- | scouts rejomed ous t, sounded through the chaparrals, ond it ran, as fay as words went, in this wise: Bot! ‘*No need of any further investigation, boys; this is the work of Cer eashe cronies at the Whot yor ‘ oubthroat that left this jacket and knife behind ‘Where the devil did you get them ho ou how came the wagon on fire, boys?” aske it. i ‘““We swapped saltpeter and lead, blind, and lit the wagon to see if we got a barg’in,” an- swered Tom. ‘**Gentlemen,” said Reckless Joe, ‘‘no doubt you have often heard me remark, ‘I’d give ma kingdom for a horse.’ I take it back. I have one, without sacrificing me paternal patrimony. There’s a steed, boys, that'll take me over tha mountains, and through the green shade. owe that Greaser a debt that'll never be paid.” ‘‘ Where are yer Greasers, and how many did you take in, out of the wet?” Kit demanded. ‘“*There’s just three on ’em. You'll find one horse with ours; he stampeded that way. They are all sittin’ cosy on the wagon-box—took inside seat that w’u’d just please Jack Hodge if he were here. * Wait till the blaze flares a little and you'll see ’em. We thought we'd give ‘em a foretaste of the climate they'll have ter scoug | in fur the future. One cuss made his will; his togs—decent ones they are—to our Mike. explained his situation to him. Tip-top* sem- brero counted in. I say, Joe, I'll beat across the opening for anything from four to a slug.” “Your bets are suitable for the herd; never consider anything less than a eof Texas land when J make a wager. I tell rs *twould not pay upon an em’ty stomach. I'm famished, and no varlet bids me to the feast,” was Joe’s response. The wagon being an old one, of heavy oalz frame, blazed high into the sky for a long time, last collapsed into a smoldering hea) of red-hot coals, in which the bodies of the Max | can robbers and murderers were charred to ashes. Slowly and sadly the scouts left the opening, after cutting branches to cover the body of murdered ranchero from the hot sun, and alas from the wolves and buzzards that would have enough to ncagey Hee for some days devour ing the oxen. ey intended to tools at ao Brown, bury the y as soon ap | possi Die. The dead boy la scheremipe ay Meh, r Hoe mossy bank o tine hswnen do x alma—the palms ing over him. Kit by the head of the 7e and mg tioned the scouts to stand around body. “ Now, tlemen, Texans! swear me over this little form, now silent in death—muzpe dered innocence, that henceforth, when we meet this Cortina, or any of his ea throat Wl remember this erway we
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12 act of barbarity. Keep the dying scene of this youn lad, who did suffer a thousand deaths, fore our minds, and show no quarter, no mer- ey to the bandits of the Rio Grande.” The scouts, with uncovered heads, raised their — hands over the dead boy, and out on the 5 dark air of the chaparrals, with terrible earnestness and deep meaning, rung out the words— We swear!” _*f Now, pards, we will roll his cold formina blanket, and lay him in this cosy nook, until we go to Fort Brown in the morning. We can earry him there and give him Christian burial.” A silent gloom feli€over the party. Even Rec Joe, as they eat their simple prairie had nothin the of the pa: tender heart, but than words. to remark, who was always Not one there had a more e showed it more in actions Poor Mike, completely exhausted by his lon day’s ride, had s nie y the bi Se t soundly through the bustle, but awoke as the scouts were rolling the corpse of the child in the blanket, and occupied his time until the eating commenced, in alternately muttering his prayers and curs the Mexican devils for murdering a poor infant. The scouts, after satisfying their hunger, rolled and lit their cigarettes, while Kit, who did not use the weed in any form, drew the let- ters from his pocket which he had taken from the Mexican’s lacheb, and commenced to peruse them. Suddenly he sprung to his feet. ‘To horse boys! to horse! quicker’n greased means They ve formed a plot to assassinate 1. Ford at Fort Brown to-night. The Greaser bloodhounds are even now on the way from Cortina’s camp to the fort. Spring for the nags! We must be in Brown inside this hour, or ‘Old Rip,’ the Chaparral Cock of the Rio Grande, is lost to Texas forever.” ‘* Bring mo horse! me kingdom for me horse! I would not that I should be absent, at such a time as this, for forty kingdoms,” said Joe, as the scouts sprung through the chaparrals to the wraging place of the animals. **’Pon me sowl,” said Mike, as he scrambled through the brush, tearing himself with the many thorns, ‘‘I never heard tell ev such doin’s, let alone bein’ mixed wid ’em meself. T’under and ownes, a man can nathar slape or ate for the horrible scares he gets, Troth, when yees are not watchin’ to Pree yer life from Ingins or Grazers, bad luck to ’em, it’s every kind ev bug an’ reptile that’s afther yees. ‘*Good-by, ould Ireland, an’ Kill-a-me-Tho- Mas; mo eyes ‘ll niver have the pleasure of penal at yer nm bogs ag’in. Sure me sisther ary ’d cry herself dead, entirely, ev she was afther knowin’ the fix ’m in. ‘* Howly mother o’ Moses! sure I’d not be sar- si at all sh’u’d I never ag’in see daylight. in t’under is me divil ev a horus? It’s afther bein’ dark as seven Agepts, an’ it’s me luck to get a kick from the spalpeen wid all four ev Ne Pate, Mighty g¢ min they have here, if it is a cuss of a counthry, fur they'll go to the divil through darkness and blood for a friend; and I’m thinkin’ Mike O’Keefe was never in better company. Here yees are, ye ugly divil! Come wid me! Sure it’s a sorrow to take yees from such foine gu, but bigs have to go, fur Tom Cornell is in ger ev bis life. I’m to be hung if I know ev any one‘who isn’t in the same fix around here. Come on, be gorroor! if the b’ys sh’u’d l’ave me behind wid the dead folks, the darkness, and divil knows what, I’d die entirely, wid fright. Will yees come along? Be the sowl ev me drowned uncle, I'll l’ave yees behind wid the fairies, if yees don’t hasten!” Poor e, half-frightened to death by his un surroundings, was the last to reach eamp. The scouts were all saddled up, and Kit assisted him for the road. ‘* All set! All hunk! Come on, boys! Easy, until we strike the Fort Brown , then we will git up and dust.” In five minutes they were in the wagon-trail, and dashing like mad toward Fort Brown, the elattering hoofs Seg 3 ay a wandering eayote to slink into the dark thickets. ‘Charge! Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on! were the last wo of ion. I wonder what mine will be?” said Joe. ' 71) go a slug, a be somebody’s else "chi rec’on Bill Shakespeare’s,” retorted ‘om. ‘Why, don’t you think there is anything ori- ginal about me, ‘om ?” “Yes. Irec’on yer the most originalist cuss the trail. Tell yer what, Joe, I’m kinder d about leavin’ them horses back at the eamp. Rec’on we won’t find ’em there to-mor- row—that is, if we have life enough left to look for _om. ” “Give your nag the spurs, Mike, and don’t lean forward like an English jockey, or steeple- ehaso vider. They can’t ride in your country. You’ré learning fast to work into our style of deing things, but you must not get skeered at , until you’re hurt, or then, either. We'll let you know when you're in danger. Tell you what it is, boys; this is the way toride! Eh-h- Ho! we make the miles fly behind. i ! for Jackass Pararic’ We naust leave ca ; las Z » * sh aa Th | | | Se ee ee me - a aa sgNeee wi and scout in on the sly. The Greasers know that Old Rip, Jack Ransom, and Ben Sige Wor generally when they take a stroll of a night to see what’s a-going on, call at the Monte Crib, and there they think they will have a chance to stab them in the dark, after knocking over the candles by a contrived plan. ‘‘They wouldn’t dare to face them, ten to one, for they know they are quick and sure shoot- ers as there are in Texas; and I wouldn’t won- der if Phil Coe is with Old Rip. Did you see him in San Antonio, Joe?” **No; me eyes beheld him not; and such a | fine commanding figure as he preseuts would not be apt to miss me gaze.” ‘*T know he is in Brown,” said Tom Clark, ‘for I was layin’ for a panther the other day, on the Neuaces, and hearing a devil of a rum- us down-stream, I slid for the spot, and saw hil had a big bull alligator, dragging around by his laryat. He caught the cuss asleep, and just noosed him neatly. Last I see of Phil he was going down the fort Brown trail—fact, he said he war a-going there—with the alligator just hanging back like a wild boar, but Phil’s nag war a-jerkin’ him lively. I tell yer, boys, there are enuff of us to Pe knock the spots outen fifty Greasers, an’ I’m hankerin, to com- mence the deal,” ‘Phil must have been layin’ low when I left fort Brown, for I did not see him, or pass him on the trail,” said Kit. ‘*T rec’on he was down to Bagdad, gazing on the moonlit sea, whispering to the mermaids for a change,” was Joe’s guess. This conversation occurred, as they neared Brownsville, ina low voice. As they slackened their speed, they turned into the fog that fringe the town, and securing the horses to trees, Bill Mann was left in charge, while the other scouts stole, Indian file, into the suburbs of the town, which was wrapped in darkness and repose. A few minutes of rapid bey and they stood at the northeast corner of the Plaza. Pete Collins’ bar was a blaze of light, and much laughing and loud talking reached them from that popular resort of the Texas boys. As they stood there in the darkness a voice of strong power and good execution, reached them in a song, the words of which were dis- tinetly heard. THE LONE STAR RANGER'S SONG. The ills of life, forget them, boys, and only look to where The lone star streams above our ranks, upon the prairie air. It speaks of better days to come, and daring spirits high, Who put their trust in Providence and keep their powder dry. Chorus—Then forward, boys, nor falter; *Tis Texas bids you fight! Look where the lone star flutters, And heaven defend the right! We have no doubts, we have no fears that we shall win at last, And peace shall come o'er prairies green, and perils all be past. But still we'll look aloft to where the lone star streams on high And put our trust in Providence and keep our pow- der dry. Chor? 8.) ‘Give us another, Phil!” reached the ears of the boys, in the voice of Col. Ford, after a hearty round of applause. SPANISH NATIONAL ANTHEM. (TRANSLATED, ) Arrn—Greenland’s Icy Mountains. March on, march on to glory, The bugle calis the brave; ‘Pho soldier's bride is duty, His couch perchance the grave, He toys no more with beauty, But marches to the fray; March away—march away. Away—away—away! Drink deep, for love is fleeting; Drink deep, for all must die; We only live by moments, Then wherefore should we sigh. We may not sev to-morrow, We only have to die. March away; march away — Away, away, away. March away, march away, Away—away—away. As the last words of the song died away a loud hurrah, mingled with the Texas yell, rung from the bar-room, and Phil. Cole stood within the brilliantly-lighted door, plainly outlined to the scouts, Col. Ford, Jim Ransom, and Ben Thompson behind him; and they oars another wild yell as Phil, with great dexterity, let off six shots from his revolver, up into the black “Philcan sing, that’s a sure thing,” said Kit. ** Now I'll see if 1 can’t get speech with them without exciting notice from the Greasers, who are undoubtedly spying them, and. counting | upon the death of those celebrated Gringoes within the hour. Take my Sharpe's rifle, Joo, and freeze to it, until 1 make acall on you. I brought a serape on = for this; rather warm for using it, but theyll think I’m troubled i on ‘tis a cool night censidering the ani Cx teae Sai i ¢ New York Library our nags in the musquits, this side of Brown, | Se PS ae 5 a IS Vinnie oe rs © ee Na i“g heat of yesterday ;”’ and wrapping a Maxicay blanket about him, in the true Greaser le, Kit appreached Pete Collins’ bar by the dark- | est route, entered, passed directly through the | crowd of Mexicans and Texans, and toward the | door of the dining-reom, to the right of the bar. | As he passed the men he wished to see, a scarce- ly distinguishable snake-like hiss issued from hig lips, at each Ranger’s shoulder. Every American we have mentioned, upon one pretense or another, left the bar, one by one, glided around the south corner of the Plast and entered the dining-room by the back door. Kit sat at the end of the dining-table, his head upon his arms, his arms upon the table, completely shielding himself from recogntition. Col. Ford, tall, raw-boned, grizzly-haired, en« tered, and silently the other Rangers, Ben, Thompson, Phil. Coe, and Jim Ransom, stood by his side a mement after. Old Rip folded his arms, put his right foot for sect and with a merry twinkle in his eye, said: ‘**Rec’on that cuss has got into the wrong room. See here, stranger, this is the grub- room, Youcan spread yourself for a snooze up stairs. Pete ‘ll show you up, after you have told us what makes the snakes uneasy. the devil are you?” ‘Tl see,” said Ben Thompson, as he sprung upon the table, walked down its length, drew his Colt’s revolver and inserted the cold muzale into the ear of the man leaning upon the table. Kit did not move a hair. Ben raised the bar- rel of the revolver and knocked the sombrere from his head to the floor, just as Kit raised up | with a broad grin upon his face. Ben leaped from the table, and in an instant | all were shaking Kit’s hands, with prairie | warmth. “That ‘ll do, boys. Col., how do you find ourself? Phil, you haven’t forgot how to sing, see. What's the time of night, boys?’ ‘*Rec’on it’s about a quarter to ten,—about time to take something; but no use asking you! You're the most unsociable cuss I know,” said Col. Ford. ‘‘Never you mind your drink this ig I’ve got some of the boys waiting for me at the cor- ner of the Plaza. We knocked three Greasers out cold on the Resaca to-night, found letters in the pocket of one. You, Col., and the boys with ou, are to be assassinated to-night, between n and eleven, at the monte crib. Load up Ag) six, Phil. Allof you go right to the crib. Ve boys will scout around, and lay low for the Texas yell; then the ball, or b open. No time for gab. We'll show them what a few Texas boys can do to-night, or die right there. By-by, boys; this hour decides the fate of the Scouts of the Rio Grande.” Before a word could be spoken by the Ran- gers, fast-talking Kit had got through, nets the back-door latch in his hand. As the word passed his lips he quickly drew it open, stepped out, closed it softly and disap: in to the darkness of the night. Col. Ford looked at the beys with a satisfied look in his eyes as he said: ‘Fun ahead for us, pards. Kit’s a brick—a pressed brick, hope he never ‘ll be broke. Come on for the crib. Are you all fixed-for business?” ‘Tm always fixed foranything or everything, and can fight in a sombrero or a stove-pipe either,” answered Ben Thompson. *“Rec’on [’m as ready as anybody, and as anxious to wade in, if 1 do shoot into the. air once in a while to clear my six, keep the cob- webs out and give vent to my feelings. I can shoot, also, into anybody that don’t like my style,” was Phil’s answer. “I’m thinking I know one Greaser by the name of Gomez that is aware of this plot. He was dealing a while ago, when I was at the crib, and the overbeariug look he gave kinder uzzled gre I Seng ay om it Rae and I’m anged i on’t go for him on the jump, right at the start,” geoliced Jack Ransom. ‘* Well, boys, come on! Kit has had time te slink away. We'll just blow with Pete a min- ute, then try our hands at this fresh dealy Don't waste no powder, and look out for cold steel,” | CHAPTER VIII. BIG FOOT WALLACE’S RECEPTTON. Tron-jointed, supple-sinewed, they can ride or they can run, Catch the wild horse with their lariats, burl theiz lances dn the sun. * gts eeepc eps ie eg te tis ssn * * * Untouched by buman laws they stood, But God had heard the cry of blood! THE gobble of the wild turkeys announced to Clown that daylight was near at hand, although it was still quite dark in the river bottom. He stepped gently up to where Jack was sleep- ing, to awaken him, as he did not wish to dis- turb Rely until the astvninute, when the morn- | ing meal of broiled beef, corn-pone, and coffee | should be Prepared, for Clown knew Rely would need all the rest she cauld get, to be able to un- |-dergo the fatigue of the long and rapid marches they must make before reaching the Ris Grande. Jask’s mwuth, * Clown laid his hand softly upan ae Ar Vol. I, — (ee es. ee an
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ee bey { No, 8, Kit Carson, J r, , the —) which was wide open, and gave a hiss into his | ear. An eighty-four-pound gun, had it been fired as ener Cone head was to Jack’s, would | cus tumbling, or more piercing yells. Clown was thrown backward down the gully. | When he recovered himself, and sat up on the opposite side of the water-wash, Jack was sit- ting directly across from him, his hands clasped around his imees, the same position as on a for- mer occasion in the coach. “You are a dang’d nice man to talk about folks bein’ so noisy in thur’ sleep as to bring down a war-party on us, now, ain't ye? If they | didn’t hear you yell clean over at Pleasanton, they must be deaf. I rec’oned you’d cut up fome kind of a caper, so I threw a blanket doubled over Rely’s head, but I heard her groan, when you started your music. Now, see here, Jack, I’ve been howled at by Lipaus, Kioways, | Camanches, and a heap of other tribes, but Pll | bet high you can knock the spots outen any of | ’¢m, when you go in for a regular old he yell.” “See here, Clown, you just gaze at me fur a few brief, fleeting periods. I’m a-goin’ to spit | out gab that I mean, and jist you reccomember | my remarks, and stow ’em away in yer brain- | bex. Ree’on the cover is kinder loose, anyhow. You know I’m a little flighty just now. Loss of | me bein’ left behind by the Rangers, an’ rum, | has kinder upsot me. I hain't got all the whisk’ | outen me yet. Don’t yer never, until I get | straightened out, clap yer hand over my grub- ee ag’in, or hiss in my ear. Yer know | hate prakes ** See here, anything left in that bottle? I be- lieve I'll take my last nip, this side the Rio | Grande. I’ve seen more Inguns ter night than | w'u’d stretch to the Rockies. J don’t care a dang fur’em; I ain’t afeard of ’em, but I don’t | want ’em to bother me when I'm tryin’ torepose myself, and not feelin’ just hunky. ‘Give us a drink, an’ Pll call ussquare. PH | wake up easy to-morrow mornin’, I rec’on, if I | wake upiat all.” Clown went to a hollow tree, reached down into the cavity, produced the bottle, and handed | it to Jack, saying: “‘ Remember, old pard, that’s yer last. Ree’on | we'll need it fur some other purpose, or Id | smash her, snakes or no snakes. You don’t get another pull, unless as a medicine, and yer can’t per off sick on me. Put yer head ter soak in heriver; put down a good squar’ meal of bacon and coffee, and you'll be O. K.” Jack took a moderate drink, went to the river | for a wash, and returned, looking like a new man, . ‘Now, Clown, don’t show me that bottle, ay’in. I’m hunk, and can go through, I rec’on, without. runnin’ wild. That bacon and coffee | smells good. If I wearn’t better ’twould sicken While Jack was speaking, Rely came from her | bower and bid them good-morning., Jack | showed their charge a good place to perform her | morning ablutions, and she returned fresh as a | rosebud: fiecked with morning dew. The breakfast was soon dispatched, and in ter: | minutes they were all mounted, forded the river, | ‘and spurred on through the post-oaks. ‘““We will keep clear of the fort Ewell trail until we pass the settlements,” Jack ordered. to they traveled, with the exception of a three hours’ rest during the heat of the day, until nearly night, and then camped on the San Migu- el river, having made full sixty miles! Rely was fatigued, and not sorry to rest be- | neath the shadows of the river-bottom timber. The boys were very careful now, as they were near the course af Camanche war-parties when raiding down country. Jack forded the river, climbed a tall tree to f take a look at the prairies beyond, but nothing | suspicious met his view; there were no living hu- mans in sight, but possibly there might be, trav- eling in the belt of timber which fringed the river. He returned to camp, and the horses were picketed within half a pistol-shot from the | party. As the breeze, what there was, came ' the river, they built a small fire, knowin the smoke would not show, and the smell o burning wood would be carried down-stream, the point they least expected danger. much worn by the still as possible in the section of the country in which they were. . The river ran not ten yards from the fire. The sun had gone down below the prairie hor- through the sights of a rifie. They had just finished their meal, and were in the act of loosening the blankets dies, when a loud splash came from the opposite side of the river, followed by another, and an- other, until, as Jack listened intently, he knew at least a score of horses were in the stream. - not have produced any more agile or lofty cir- | | spurs deep in horse bounded into the air, then, in a wild gal- | ong ride, not having been in | the saddle before for some time, and were also | aware that it was necessary for them to keep as from the sad- | —— { proved them to be singly under control. tained, and that quickly. Clown and Rely were looking at Jack, who motioned toward the saddles and then the horses. They understood and commenced to saddle the animals. Jack crawled upon his hands and knees as near the river as he dared, and parted the branches. Twenty yards from him, seated upon wild | looking and gayly decorated mustangs, that | were drinking eagerly of the cool waters, was a | score of Camanche warriors, who were also drinking, by leaning from the animals and scooping up the water in both hands. Their war-paint, and black and vermilion streaks ran along each side of the backbones of the | horses to the tails. Jack knew they had traveled a long distance from the way the horses drank and the manner of the: Indians, but he waited for no further investigations but stole away si- | lently to the comrades of his danger, his heart | | in his throat with the great fear he had for Rely’s cafety. Clown and Rely had already saddled their | Horses; the animals were allowed to feed for fear their attention might be attracted by those in the river. lives. Jack quickly threw the saddle over the back of his horse, drawing the girth an extra hole | tighter, pridied the animal, and gave a look at | Clown that told more than his tongue ‘could, | had it been safe to use it. Jack motioned them to mount and pointed | | down the river; then turning his horse to bring | it between him and the stream, he leveled his Sharpe’s rifle over the saddle, as Clown, with Rely, slowly walked their horses down the San Miguel. A horse’s head pressed through the branches at the very spot Jack had reconnoi- tered. Jack’s cheek kissed the breech of his rifle, his eye ran along the sights asa grim warrior’s head cleft the foliage. The eyes of each were upon the other; the Indian’s lips parted for the danger signal; itwas too late; Jack’s rifle belch- ed forth its contents of fire and lead. The death howl and warning whoop, blended horribly together as the savage fell from his horse, dead, upon the smoldering camp-fire of his enemies. The instant after Jack pulled trigger he was in the saddie, and. drove the long rowels of his the flanks of his mustang. The lop, sprung down the river, while the river bot- tom resounded with yells of rage from the In- dians, as they came crashing through the branch- es and saw their dead chief, When the forms of the retreating Texans met their view, the war-cry burst in terrific, venge- ful meaning from their .throats, and as they dashed in pursuit they sent a shower of arrows after the alice flying whites. “Take the lead, Clown, for Big Foot Wal- lace’s ranch! It ain’t over five miles from here. Follow the river. Rely, keep close to Clown, | and mind your nag; a fall is death, or worse to | you. The biz of both on yer is to get there as | quick as yer can. anxious or too eager, and we'll fotch ’em right into a trap, fur Big Foot is at home; seen his best saddle nag to-night hobbled out above here. Git up, an’ git!” On they went, the Indians with fierce yells, | lashing their mustangs with the cruel raw-hide Pheer causing them to leap into the air with | the force of the blows, and then launch out with redoubled speed. miles, if you have the luck to get so far, Clown. I want to show ’em-some shootin’, the ‘old reliable’ style.” poisoned, | was in concert with the other. This brave was fittin | sent with the rapidit another, but an instant apart. He knew they were horses by the tread upon the bank, before they entered the river. Now, by the way they struck the water, and the heaviness of the tread, he also knew the animals were ridden by man. the Indian was drawn so that the arrow-head The report of the w-string mingled. touched the left forefinger. rifle and the twang of the es ae The absence of all playfulness and neighing— | | their entering one after another in place of a | general rush, as was common with mustangs— | Who and what these men were must be ascer- | hideous features were daubed with | One neigh might cost them their | T'll keep the Reds frum bein’ | ‘Keep just clear of the timber for three Three warriors, better mounted than the | Others, were now within a hundred yards, and, as Jack had slacked up to give his friends a | chance to put more ground between them and | | their encmies, the red-skins were gaining, and ] acter | would soon be within sixty yards, when their | They eat their ce ton in silence, for they were | bows would be as effective as rifles, and more to be dreaded, especially if the arrows were One of the three pushed ahead of the others. He was a splendid specimen of his race; horse and rider acted as one—each movement of one : an arrow to his bow; | izon, but it was light enough to glance clearly | two others hung dangling from between the | fingers of the right, or bow-string hand, to be of lightning, one after | 13 —— as he dashed his spurs home, and his sombrere skurried through the air over his horse’s head, with the arrow imbedded in the thick felt. The other two Indians were not fifty feet away, their bows were slung upon their arms, and the long deadly lances were poised as they came thundering on. Jack, who thought his time had surely come, determining to send one more red tiger to his long home, dropped his rifle-strap over the horn | of his saddle, and jerked out his Colt’s revolver | from the scabbard; then, throwing himself half around, he let fly at the nearest brave—the only |} one he had any chance at before the lances would cieave the air and impale him. The sharp crack of Clown’s rifle, blended in with the report of Jack's revolver, as the two | lances cleaved the air, one burying itself full | two feet in Jack’s mustang—the other whizzing pee Jack, the thickend giving hima stinging jlow upon the head, which nearly took the senses from him. As Jack’s horse sunk to the ground, Clown’s | voice rung in his ear: | “Jump! Jack, for your life! Here's a horse!” ; and he felt a rawhide rope in hishand. Clowm grabbed him by the belt, and hoisted him into an Indian saddle, | There was a rush from behind, as yelling demons came thundering down upon them. A blur seemed to hover before the eyes of Jack; he felt a heavy blow given to his horse behind, and the animal spring madly forward; then a perfect fusilade from the revolvers of | Clown, struck his ears: | . The air was filled with smoke and fhe hazy twilight of evening together; these made things favorable for our friends, Wild yells of agony, and whoops of vengeance followed the revolver fusilade of Clown, who had fired, with quick-playing fingers, twelve shots, right into the mass of savages as they came upon the scene of Jack’s accident. On, on went the horse, which took Jack he knew not where. Rapid clatter of hoofs was behind him, and soon Clown took the rawhide ropes from his hands, and his voice broke out in words of cheer: ‘Stick to the nag, old pard! Tl see yer through or die. Five minutes and we're safe. Rely is ahead, and at Big Foot’s afore this time.” On, on—the baffled savages maddened to fury at the death of their comrades, and now seem- ingly sure of their revenge. In, on, down through the live-oaks, Clown having Jack’s horse in the lead, and avoiding the low-hanging branches of the trees. A few more leaps, and the cabin of Big Foot would be reached. J The Reds, like a pack of wolves, followed, | howling, two hewined yards behind, The death- scene of their chief had Jost them ground. The horses were covered with foam, and a wavering, staggering gait told that they must soon slacken the headlong speed that had been kept up. ‘¢Cheer- up, Jack!” yelled Clown; ‘‘there’s the opening, and there is Big Foot and Rely at the cabin. Hurrah! for the giant scout of the Rio Grande! Hurrah for us, too, by Christy! Big Foot’s ready for biz, and ‘‘Old Reliable ” is going to talk! Shoot away, over or under, right or left, anyway, so you wipe out a Red! A ball whizzed past Clown’s head; the report followed, and with a yell of agony from the réar. | The horses dashed up to the cabin. Big Foot | Wallace lifted Jack clear off the Indian horse, ) ricked the animal with his bowie, and the | horse, followed by Clown’s, staggered to the . river, beyond the cabin. | Rely and Jack were pushed inside the cabin | door, opened just wide enough to squeeze in; | Clown followed, Big Foot gave a P i we and crowding his bulky form inside the c | door, as a perfect hail of arrows struck the cabin. | A sharp, shrill shriek, like that of a woman in | horrible agony and deathly fear, came from the other end of the cabin, as the heavy bars fell into place, fastening the door. A low, soothing whistle came from the lips of | Big Foot, and then, looking at Clown im the dim light, he said: “Take a sight outen that west end-loop, anf see whar them cusses are prospectin’, an’ whether yer think they’ll quit the game. ve got a boss card to play yet. How many on’em has chawed dirt on yer back trail?’ “JT yee’on seven went under fur good, and sum bad hurt, away back, an’ you spotted two here. There’s two doven or so sp'ilin’ for a fight | yet. Dang the cusses; they don’t know when they’re wusted, They’ve got an old wagon-tongus o’ ydurn, an’ I rec’on they kalkerlate to break tp | house-keepin’ fur yer or have a house-warmin’, | | Jack wheeled, and gave a twitch on hisbridle- | one or t’other. y’ve left the nags on the rein; the “pao Spanish bit brought his horse | rise. Here they come! Doggoned if I don’t to a dead stop, trembling in every limb, but | spile sum on em for a war-dance!” Jack sat him like a man of iron; his Sharpe’s “ Hold!” said Big Foot; ‘‘ don’t yer waste a was brought to his shoulder just as the bow of | ou lay low Cot cbc yore tit i aia ver kaa i ive yer a hin ing yer : can’t Cone is that door no way, an’ I'm janet if I think they seen what door we cum in by.” The death-how!l of the struck Jack's ear | Rely was bathing Jack’s bead, who lay upom F, : ; v :
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14 of skins in one corner of the apartment, © scalp was torn, and he had lost a large amount of blood. As Big Foot made the last remark to Clown, te addressed them all, saying: “You all keep cool; locate right whar yer aro; fion’t be took back by nothin’ yer hear, till I let on ter yer. It’s about as dark outside asin here. I’m agoin’ to t’other room. Got a parti- ghon in my cabin. You'll hear fun soon.” As he spoke, a heavy substance struck the door, but it was not the one by which they gain- | ed entrance. This was ingeniously covered with split logs, spiked on; so, when closed, no break in the logs was visible, except at close in- gpection. The door, upon which the Indians were now working to gain an entrance, was about four teot east of this. The distance the Reds were from the cabin, together with the semi-dark- hess, had kept their usually keen eyes from ob- eee that there were two doors. As Big Foot spoke of the fun yet to:come, he thounted a ladder to the loft above and was lost to view. Then again commenced the same low, sooth- ing whistlo, accompanied by the rattling of | chains, and a loud, cat-like purring. Again the wagon-tongue struck the door with a crash, sending the splinters flying against the partition. mist force the door. The cabin was as still as death, with the ex- ception of the low, hardly audible whistie of Big Foot, and the strange, purring sound. he patter, patter, of many moccasined feet be i the ground outside reached the ears of the whites; then the crash, the quick cracking of wood, and the fall of the door upon the earth floor inside, followed by the exultant war- | whoops of the Indians, as they sprung into the epening, in one huddled mass, their war-clubs and scalping-kmives brandished ‘above their heads. The rattle of heavy chains, as if, this time, | east aside, a loud, piercing whistle, and then, a | horrid, blood-curdling seream, that riveted every warrior to his tracks with terror! The spring of a heavy body, the scratching of the claws as they left the wood-work, and loosened the grip which gave force to the lunge, was distinctly heard; then, as it struck among | the mass of Indians, the yells of horror, the | shrieks of agony, were mingled with the tearing ef flesh, the spurting of blood, cracking of bones, and horrible crunching of tecth, Rely, pale as death, stood in the center of the pe portion of the cabin; Clown was recapping is arms, and Jack, with a bandage around his head, stood leaning on his rifle, by the side of Rely, when Big Foot dropped from the loft and aged for the door. Throwing the bars one de, and kicking it open, he snatched his rifle and shouted: ‘‘Come on with yer shooters! All hands, but don’t yer shoot my cat!” All rushed out, arms at a ready, Rely in- eluded. The moon now lit up the scene, and showed by the other door, which was smashed in, half & dozen Indians writhing in agony upon the ! Sarco Others wore flying in terror toward | horses. ‘Don’t let a single cuss go back ter his squaw! thow yer shootin’ edication, now, of never!” shouted Big Foot, as he brought down the Red nearest to the horses. Clown, Jack, and Rely opened fire until not one was left alive of those who were striving to get to their animals. The single Indian left in charge of them was seen to | in terror to the fast | iy op away, gazing bac Ning warriors of his tribe, and lashing his mustang with his quirt most unmercifully, as the frequent death-howls struck his:ears. They turned to those who had been rolling in agony by the door; they were now rigid in | death and bathed in gore, while panther, an animal of prodigious size, lay Stretched out among the dead Indians, licking the blood from the many knif‘-~wounds received in defense of %s maaster’s honie. CHAPTER IX. @GE MONTE CRIB FIGHT.—DISPATCHES TO COL. FORD, Then list! Not far there lurks a crew Of trusty comrades, staunch and true— Rangers, whose flery souls like mine Spurn at the bonds of discipline. Our schemes aro laid, our purpose set; A chief, a leader lack we yet. Bach to an equal loathto bow Wl yioid to chief renown’d as thou. * * * * ” * * "Twas thon mid tumultuous smoke and strife, Where each man fought for death or life. Con. Joan Forp, Jack Ransom, Phil Cole and Ben Thompson entered the monte crib. Three tables were in full blast, giving lay-outs, but ‘with few betters for that time of night. Tn the middle cf each table was placed the bank, con- | ’ of Mexican dollars, halves and quarters, with a few doubloons—from three to five hun- Gred dollars in each bank. The dealer sat on es the player on the othor side of the ta- The next lunge of the battering-ram | | There were but six or eight Mexicans betting |ateach bank, and not much interested in the | jously when the Texans entered. It was very evident to the latter that those in the house nation. | navy revolvers in his belt, besides the long- bladed bowie: the former were at half-cock, and | drawn around at each side, to be handy for use, and easily drawn when needed. Pressed up against the walls outside, peeping through the | cracks, were the scouts headed by Kit Carson and Joe Booth | ly hiding them from the observation of those | entering the building. The Texas boys, headed by Col, Ford, agreeably to a prearranged plan, went to the table nearest to one end of the crib, The New York Library J. j : / ame, or they would not have looked up so anx- | were most of them aware of the plot of assassi- | Each of the Texans had twoof Colt’s | Vol, 1, Those who had pistols, did not do much toward using them to advantage, for the row had come meneed so unexpectedly, and the terrible fire of the Texans was so destructive, that before they knew what to do, half their number lay dead or dying upon the dirt floor. The survivors made a rush for the door to | ward the Matamoras ferry, the balls hurtlin | the Texans. the bushes and darlmess secure- | | taking their places in a position which brought | | every person in plain view at any time they | chose to Jook up from the game. They also had | the end wall of the building at their backs | with no pagans of any one getting behind them. This position was gained in a careless, | sauntoring way, that betrayed no sign that any one would suppose that they had any preference for that particular table or position; still, it | was very evident that the Mexicans did not like to see them take their places there. | ‘*Bar the door on the seven ag’in the ace!” | dealer, who was the same Gomez before men- | tioned as having put.on a good many extra airs over Jack when he had been in before, As Jack bent over and laid his bet on the sev- | en, he noticed the silver hilt of a dagger just visible above the collar of Gomez’s jacket, par- tially concealed by bis long hair. ‘“Seven in the door! Pick up your money, | Jack! Give usa lay-out of the ace and deuce; ten dollars on the ace! Lost! but you won double my bet, colonel,” said Ben Thompson, (“Fighting Ben.”) The Texans all appeared to be earnestly occu- vied in watching the game, but their keen eyes | one at another, as they took notice of the noted | scouts atthe lower table. Now and then the | tip-ity-tip of a horse galloping into town sound- ed faintly as some Mexican from Cortina’s camp | rode as near to the monte crib as he dared; and | left his horse to enter the crib as though he was | a common frequenter and resident of Browns- ville, but they were far from deceiving the | sharp eyes of the scouts, There were now some | fifty Mexicans, apparently as eager staking two- bits at a bet as though their lives depended up- on the winning. The Mexican signal for the murder of the Texans, was, that every candle should be extinguished, except the one nearest the scouts, and that should be left unsnuffed, so | as to give a dim, uncertain light. They could then spring upon their game and butcher them before they could offer any resistance, or recov- er from their surprise. The Texans determined that the surprise | should be on the other side, and it had been agreed that Jack Ransom should be the man _ to ~ | start the ball by settling his account with Go- of the latter go far enough to excuse it, and if not, he should be provoked into a quarrel. opportunity came, even before the Texans an- ticipated, for Jack eaught Gomez pulling two ecards, causing “Fighting Ben” to lose a large sum of money. Jack was nearest the dealer, | and when he noticed the cheat, he quickly snatched the cards, separated them by a slip of | the forefinger and thumb, exposing Gomez be- fore the betters around the table. The hand of said Jack Ransom, as he laid five silver dollars | on top of the seven, at the same time eying the | ihrough their crowded masses as they presse out. A few scattering shots were delivered at Groans of agony, malditos, pista} shots, and the triumphant yells of the Texany filed the night air. “Come on, boys!” cried Col. Ferd, as Kit, Joe and the other scouts made their way over thé dead to his party. ‘‘ Remember! the Alamo and Mier.” “Fighting Ben” and Phil Cole, badly wound. ed, sat upon the floor, where they had keld their position through the fight, and urged on the others, after the fast-retreating bandits. <A | sickly, pale moon, partially lit up the night out cnew of every movement made around them, | and noticed the casual entering of Mexican after | Mexican, and the significant looks they gave | mez, should the overbearing, insulting manner | The | | Gomez quickly glided up over his shoulder for | | the knife which was down his neck, but he was too late, for Jack’s hand was there before his, | and, quick as thought, the long, slender-bladed | | Stiletto was drawn, and his own knife was | buried to the hilt in the breast of Gomez. | Other knives flashed in the candle-light. | Texans all sprung back to the walls of the Monte House. ‘“ Fighting Ben,” the last to leave the table, covering the retreat of Jack Ransom, re- ceived a stab in the arm and thigh, but a life aid for each, and in an instant he was beside | | his comrades against the wall, a revolver in | either hand, A score of Greasers sprung on the jump, right at the Texans, thinking tio. over- whelm them by numbers, but the eight six- | shooters of the Rangers. cut them down, and the Texan yell rung out, as signal to Kit Carson and Reckless Joe, who, with their party, charged in at the east door, just as a large num- | ber of Mexicans entered opposite from the side | next the Matamorasferry. As Kit and Joe en- The | side. The band of scouts dashed after the flyin Greasers, who had no time. to mount fhei horses in the bush, but made their way directly for the old rope ferry. Down the steep bank they sprung, their ranks thinned by the revolvers of the Texans. They plunged into the river and lunged out to swim for the opposite shore, ‘* Now’s the time to use our Sharpe’s rifles, boys,” said Kit, as from the high bank above the ferry he blazed away into the waters, which, refiecting the moon’s rays, showed plainly the struggling forms of the invaders of Texas, The detonations of the rifles aroused thé Mexican guard at the ferry-landing, on the other shore, and lights were seen flickering, here and there, along the bank as those whe were so fortunate as to escape the rifle-shots, called loudly for help to their countrymen. ‘‘Tkinder rec’on we’ve wiped out the most of the cusses. That was a sort o’ surprise-party, warn’t it?, Some on ’em took a bath, an’ didn’ stop fur soap,” observed Tom Clark. “Tis strange, ‘tis passing strange that ouy sister Republic should allow her citizens armed, with malice and hatred in their hearts, to in vade the realms of Uncle Sam. Hear me, ye gods and little fishes! Be it known that, hence- forth and forever, as heretofore, we denounce, we disown you, Mexico! No more shall the right hand of relationship be extended to the degenerate sons of Montezuma. You never rot a shake from a Texan, anyhow; but at Vashington they call you pet names, I mean your ministers; they sell you arms to use against their own citizens, and give you long credits, You owe Uncle Sam untold gold; you owe Texas blood more precious than all ‘the gold in this most uncharitable, deceptive world,” declaimed Reckless Joe. Mike O’Keefe stood panting by the scouts, having done, good service at the crjb and in the puaee. Hearing the remarks of Joé he accosted im: ‘Sure, an’ is that Maxico, Mr. Rickless, wher’ the Grazers ar’ afther coming frum? ’*Pon me soul, it’s a h’athen lookin’ place be the moon- light. An’ yees are afther saying there be fishes over there. Sure I'd like a taste o’ fish, cum a Friday; but divil do T know whin that'll be; me head is afther bein’ so bothered wid the way yees scouts around, as yees call if, The back o’ me hand to Maxico an’ thim that’s in it, It’s a dacent male and slape T lost be thim, let alone the worrymint 0’ mind.” “Yow ll be all hunk now, Mike. You can git some good cloth’s offen them what’s knocked under, and a fit-ont for yer horse,” Tom Clark suggested, “Sure, I’m danged, ef I wouldn't go naked intirely afore I'd be afther warein’ the cloth’s ev a dead mon. There’s back luck in it, they always tould me at ’ome,” “Come on, boys! We have bu’st them up, and eleaned out the shebang; there'll be a few less to fight up the river, We will now go and see to Phil and Ben Thompson. Kit and Joe, you are youngest; streaker for the crib and at- tend to them. We will go over to Pete’s; have a room prepared, and yank Dr. Barry out to dress their wounds,” said Col. Ford. ‘“‘ Nothing can make me hoofs more light, make me throw off on me stomach longer, or catiso me heart to beat with keener sorrow, than the kno’ledge that a comrade lays suffering. Come on, Kit! We're needed at the charnel-house, once the monte crib!” Kit and Joe hastened on ahead to attend to the we punded, but a ministering angel was there | before them, who had tenderly dressed their tered, a perfect hail of balls were sent into the | | bandit ranks, from both parties of whites. | Mexicans in squads of a dozen sprun madly | at the Texans with their long knives, but, be- | fore they could reach them, the deadly Colts made wounds that none could stand under, A few of the bandits had pistols, but most of them had left them behind to throw off any sus- | picion as to their , and not expecting to pie any use for them, as they thought the ! gcout¢ would fail an easv prey, to their knives. | wounds and made them comfortable amid that horrible scene of death and blood. As soon as the scouts entered] the dcor they recognized the nurse. What Scout or Ranger of the Rio Grande who did not know her? and Ep rune the shout from their lips: ‘‘ Hurrah for Kate Luby! the only rose without a thorn upon the Rie Grande!” There was about her presence some- thing so noble, so far above the common human, that all, high or low, bowed humbly before her, and the man who would in any way have shown her disrespect, would have been a corpse the next minute.
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fo. 8, $$$ ——— Ger heroism, her devotion to all suffering hu- nianity, or all who needed advice or sympathy; har great talents—she speaking fluently five lan- gaages—all made her appear to the sons of tho Jene Star State too high and exalted to be idly gazed upon. But what made her more respect- ed than all was her great bravery and reckless- | ness, she having at one time, when Cortina had a citizen of Brownsville prisoner, and about to have him shot, entered his camp and demanded the prisoner’s liberty. Such was her command over herself, her queenly bearing, that even the bandit chief could not but show respect to her, and, strange to say, released the prisoner; and Kate Luby returned with him to his family, his heart bursting with gratitude, of as equal daring endeared this lady to all resi- Kit Carson, Jr., the Crack Shot of the West. Col. Ford related the circumstances connected with the murder of the ranchero and his son; finding of the letters.in the jacket by Kit .. who produced .the same for the in- spection of Capt. Haynes. .In these letters the pilot of the bandits was clearly proven. The counterplot of the Texans and its grand success were alse explained to the captain, and ho agreed to break up-his camp below the fort, march into the town, and take up his quarters, so as to be able to guard the citizens from any other marauding band from the bandit camp above, who would, doubtless, now take the first chance to avenge their comrades, slain by the 5 irson, J tee | Texans. Many acts | dents of the lower-Rio Grande, where she re- | sided during the most bloody and lawless times for ten years, and now lives in Corpus Christi. When Col. Ford entered and discovered Kate | Luby, his rough features lit up with smiles, as oe doffed his sombrero and extended his hand. ‘God bless you, Kate! You are always @round when any one is needing your care and attention; but in such a place as this I hate to | pee you. It is contaminating to breathe the air that hovers over such base things in the form of mien, even when life has left them. A thousand thanks for your care of my boys, who I know will never forget it. May I escort you from this ghastly sight to your home?” Certainly, Col. Ford; but first order the | nded scouts brought to my house, where I van attend to them. They have lost a large amount of blood and need proper food to stvongthen them. Don’t say a word now; mine is law here. As far as these two boys are con- eerned, you have nothing more to do with them until I deliver them over to you able to take | You have so much on your | the saddle again. bands, colonel, that Ud better go home by my- self. Joe and Kit, when they have help and horses, can bring the wounded to my house.” “Kate, I cannot allow you to go through the streets unattended; so we will go now, and I will return and have the boys moved as soon as I can. I was a-going to take them over to Pete Coliins, but know they will receive better care with you.” Col, Ford escorted Kate Luby home, | together when any oe is threatened by inva- | | sion by these cut-throat thieves. Joe | and Kit, with the assistance of Mike and Tom | Clark, gently lifted the wounded scouts upon two horses brought from the prairie camp out- gide the town, and they were slowly taken to the residence of Kate Luby, and left to her tender care and sympathy. Col, Ford hastened after Doctor Barry, and after his return from his patients was glad to jearn that no bones were broken. shot through the thick portion of the thigh, be- Phil Coll was | sides being stabbed twice, but not seriously, at | the time the row commenced when Jack knifed Gomez. The scouts all met at Pete’s, and the celonel soon joined them after his consultation with Doctor Barry. | tained in the dispate | were working. Pete, although quite deaf, had been awakened | by the firing and was ready to receive the boys, his good-natured features beaming with smiles, for he knew the Mexicans had been severely | punished. His wife was a Mexican woman, but no man on the river held more bitter hatred to- ward the bandits of Cortina than Pete. ‘“T yec’on you'll have to start a new grave- yaid, Pete, to-morrow; there’s a right smart lot of Greasers tew plant, an’ I hope they'll never sprout ag’in,” said Tom, as he entered the bar. ‘‘No need to bury the cowardly cut-throats; vite Bonar I don’t rec’on even they would stomach them, What you boys agoing to take? rec’on you're all dry except Kit; he never patronizes me. Here, Col. Ford, my treat; it shall be echampaigne, and Charles Heidsick’at that.” While the Texans joined Pete in a glass of wine, the heavy tramp of infantry, at a double- quick, struck their ears, and a squad of boys in blue halted before the entrance to the bar-room, on the Plaza. “Left face, right dress, front, order arms!” sounded, clear and shrill, on the night air, and the officer of the guard, with drawn sword, en- tered the bar. “Halloo, captain!” cried Col. Ford, ‘ just ‘You know, Col Ford,” said Capt. Haynes, ‘*the government only gives us what you might call a corporal’s guard to each of the frontier posts, and we are almost powerless beyond our own camp. One thousand cavalry ought to be stationed, continually, between here and Eagle- Pass, and stationed so as to be easily brought We might then, with some chance of success, try to keep them on their own side.of the river.” **Come into the dining-room, all my scouts, and you also, Captain Haynes; one thing has slipped my mind.’ Captain Haynes and the scouts followed Col. Ford into the dining-room;: the doors were closed, and scouts stood at each with drawn re- | volvers. “ Taike a seat, Capt. Haynes. I rec’on I ought to have some news from up country that will interest us who have been cooped up here at | this town on the lookout for sign. How is it, Kit, or Joe; have you anything from Governor Houston, and what's the news?” Joe Booth stepped up to Col, Ford and deliv- ered a large packet, stamped with the seal of State, saying: ‘Me lord, had not the times been pregnant with events, among which your highness’ life did hang as ’twere upon a hair, the dispatches from our honored governor would have met your gaze previous to this oceasion. I beg your | gracious pardon for the seeming delay, but dark deeds of blood lay thick around to show as me excuses.” ‘Bite it right off there, Joe; I'll be danged if I can read; you throw me off the trail every time, when you sling that sort of gab at me,” averred Col. Ford. He perused the papers from Governor Hous- ton with great interest for a few moments, then sprung from his chair, and whirled his sombrerc | across the room. ‘* Hu-rah! for the Rangers and Scouts of the | Rio Grande! Captain Haynes, come here a mo- ment. Boys, excuse me; the very walls have ears, as Joe says.” A whispered consultation between the two officers for a moment, and they grasped hands, highly pleased at the news con- | 1e8. ‘** Boys, I wanted Cap. to know how things You that come from Banketta can inform my boys who were here in Brown. Joe, and Kit, you better go down and see the boys at Kate Luby’s; this will cheer them up to know everything is hunk for a smash into Cor- tina’s camp up the river. Mum’s the word, and no outside talk. Captain Haynes and. Pete Col- | lins are the only persons here that'll know where we are gone, except Kate Luby. PU be danged, boys, if the work we must do the next ten days shall not shine on the pages of Texas history, | A surprise is what we're playin’ for, and if we | get it, with the force promised, there won't be h them into the river for the cat-fish, al- | ix time for the wine if you wasent for the fight.” | I should have informed you, so you could have taken a hand, but I only received the news about an hour before they had planned to send | us on the long, dark trail before our time. You have hustled yourselves to get here so soon, for it ain’é more’n half an hour since we waded in en the cusses, and you’re camped below the walls of the old fort.” Captain Haynes grasped the hand of Col. Ford, and, nodding to each of the’scouts in turn —rr the glass of wine the colonel passed ‘* Fill up again, all hands!” said Pete; “ don’t allow Cap. to drink alone.” “‘Heore is confusion, defeat and death to the guerrillas of the Rio Grande!” cried Col. Ford, and with a wild Hu-rah, the glasses clinked, | ciinked around the circle. “Now, colonel,” said Captain Haynes, ‘' give me tre details of this disturbance.” | Resaca. ’ | | } | | here. quite so many sudden deaths among the ranches, or so many horses, mules, and cattle, extending their range into Mexico, from this State. Come out, all hands, and take a smoke, a rest for a few hours, and then, hu-rah! for the chaparrals and vengeance! Captain Haynes, I hope we shall all meet you again, but it is doubtful; when we lay down upon the prairie, we never | Inow whether we shall ever spread another blanket.” ‘‘T trust we shall meet/again, colonel; and you also, boys. lIexpect to hear good news of | youshortly. No, thanks; Pll not smoke to-night. Bueno noche, senors.” ‘“Good-night!” ecizoed the colonel and. scouts, as they lit their cigars. *‘ Attention, squad! Right face, counter- march by file right, march!” and the boys in blue returned toward the old fort. ‘* Now, gentlemen, it’s midnight; allof you git for the horses of the dead Greasers and bring them Leave all the harness, not needed, with | Pete; he will take good care of it for us; secure the nags outside to the musquits, where your | own horses are, and we’ll take them out to the You can take a snooze until three o’clock. Joe and Kit, call, with my compli- ments, on Kate Luby, and tell the boys what’s up; perhaps I may not have time to see them. Ajl be in the saddle at three, and no noise. I'll be with you on time.” The scouts departed to carry out the orders of Colonel Ford; while the latter smoked, up and down the bar, thinking over the plans for the coming campaign. “Sudden! his eyes rested upon the form of a eater sake rolled in a Blankeb; in one.cormer of the room, and he im- | at Kate | sulting the dcctor, promised Col. | would have them well enough to follow the 15 te ~ —————— a mediately stirred.the same with his boot, say- ing: ** Who the deyil have we A spy?” In an instant the the per spre upright; disclosing the wild, halt-awakene Irishman, Mike, who braced himself a la Mor- rissey, shoving his fist into the face of Colonel Ford, who had a broad grin upon his features-— recognizing Mike as one he had seen doing good service, using a rifle in shillalah style in the fight. But Pm ‘** Be the powers, an’ its yoos, is it? danged ef T care, at all, at all; ef it was prise- here? form of fi | dent, ye was, ev this big America, yees can’t he afther pokin’ yees fut at Mike O’Keefe. I never stud that same frum ony mon but me fathur, God rest him, an’ it’s late fur me to begin that same. You'll take a round wid me, or yees are no mon at all. Yees might kick yer fut ata Grazer, but yees can’t do id wid an Irisher wid- out the loss o’ blood. Dafind yerself or yees mither’ll not kno’ yees in a jiffy.” The smile upon Colonel Ford's face deepen as, with a quick movement, entirely anion for by Mike, he grasped each wrist of that indi- vidual in his iron grip, and drew him toward the bar, over which Pete leaned, an amused spectator of his countryman’s tight fix. Mike writhed this way and that, to no / ur. pose; he was in the grasp of a man fee muscles were of steel, and whose lungs had been fed. with. the pure air of heaven, but his | heart was as tender as a woman’s, and his yoice showed it, as he spoke to Pete, saying: “Here is a man who is rather excited. If he wants any thing to eat or drink and a comfort- able bed to sleep in, give him the best you have at my expense. I rec’on he was “worn, and sleepy. I’m sorry I woke him; thought he was aspy,” then loosening his grasp around Mike's wrists, he extended his hand in token of friend. | Ship, which Mike grasped with warmth. **Pon me soul, Ould Rip—as the b’ys calls yees, no offense intinded—but I belave ye are a gintlemon, sure an’ true. I’m an Irishmon, as yees might parhaps know if ye had a talk wid Mr. Kit—God bless him an’ kape him frum sor ror! Its starvin’ I was, on a bit eva jackass, in a wild perrarie, whin the b’ys picked me up, an’ tr’ated me kindly. It’s little sleep I’ve had, an’ bothered wid snakes an’ Grazers, bad luck to ’em, an’ I’m thinkin’ yer scowts don’t ate often enuf, or I’m bein’ hungry too often, I’m not sure which, but starvin’, slapleless, an’in a strange land, P’ll not allow ony one to insult me; bué I know that yees did not intind to injure me fa- lins, so it’s wid pl’asure I'll take a bit te ate, and | sumthing to put new strength into me, fur it’s in yer sarvice I’m inlisted, I suppose.” “You shall have everything you want, Mike. When you know me better you will know it was no intention of mine to insult you. I like you all the better for resenting what you thought was intended as such. Get ike up as good & supper as you can, Pete; then give fim a place to see 9 until three o’clock. ‘You are going with us, Mike, to—’ and the colonel whispered a few words in the Trishman’s ear. “Sure [d go to the end of the ’arth fur Mr. Kit, an’ ’m thinkin’ yees must be sum relation ev his; a cousin may be.” ‘No, Mike, ’m no relation of Kit’s, but 1 know his people well, and his uncle is known all over the world as the king scout of America; but eat your lunch, Mike, and go to sloop; I must look up things. Nosleep for me to-night,” and, shaking hends with his new friend, and bidding him good-night, Col. Ford started across the Plaza to the camp of the scouts. “Sure this is the dangdest counthry I ever heard tell on; fur they never ate or slape at all Thunder an’ ownes, it’s, meself that'll never get used to that same. Ill ate and slape when I can as long asLlive, and maybees that’s not long, God help me.” At three o’clock the morning following the fight at the Monte Crib, the scouts silently made their way through the musquits to the Resaca | de la Palma. Col. Ford and Jim Ransom were now added to the party. Fighting Ben and Phil. Cole were left behind iuby’s where they would receive the best of care, and in a few days Kate, after con Ford she trail of his party toward the rendezvous. Col. Ford had, in an interview with Kate, confided to her the secrets of the dispatches, knowing they would never pass her lip. Col. Ford and Mike became fast friends before reaching the Resaca, and the latter releted his various adventures since leaving Eilla-mac- thomas. “Sure it’s disgusted I was wid Texas an | everything in it, espechilly the snakes; but Pm | mateing such good friends an’ noble gintlanin that I’m afther thinkin’ if the Gravers, divil take them, don’t slaughter me, loike they did the mon yonder, and the bit eva b’y, and the oxen; curses on thim, they don’t aven spare the r brutes; but, as I was sayin’, ev | ough alive, I don’t know but what T'll stop awhile in this counthry, fur Mr. Kit tells me there’s betther hand’ abuy here, « buscdired miles or 80.
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PGs 16 ae EEE = 3 EN The arrivai of the scouts at their old camp now interfered with further conversation be- tween the colonel ayg@d Mike, for the boys had brought tools from Yort Brown to bury the murdered ranchero and his boy. z ; dead features; the eyes wide open, staring fixed- | ly; the jaw dropped, and, as the strong current | at times, throws up an arm, in a life-like man- ner, you are forced to cover your eyes with | your hands at the ghastly spectacle. The southern sun was just peoping above the -| level of Palo Alto prairie as the sconts lowered the bodies of the victims of the Mexican bandits into one grave, within ten feet of where the man was brutaliy murdered, on the border of the opening. It was ixapossible to take the murdered ones’ bodies to Brownsville, under the circumstances. Father and son lay side by side, Sin ae in their blankets, as many a time they had done before, sleeping together upon the prairies, but from the sleep which now held them they would never awaken. A wife and mother was even now, perhaps, | gecing out from her frontier home, anxiously ooking for those now coid in death. Alas, how many Texas homes have been thus broken. No more would the little fellow, now cold and You think you could not be more moved—that the sight before you could not be surpassed for horror; but you find yourself mistaken, for round the curve rushes, seemingly dancing up and down in the waters, with glee, another corpse, that enters the whirlpool, chasing the | } first. | the stiff, cry out, oh, so mournfully and strangely: | “Whoa, Nig! Git up along, Spot! What yer doin’ there, Whitey? This cry of the wounded, insane boy still, and always will, at times, ring in my ears, and [ see him, as he sat upon his father’s corpse, With | cheeks wet with tears of sorrow, these rough | sons of the prairie, with uncovered heads, hur- ried away from sight forever, the victims of an unprotected frontier. mass of dead wood was thrown over double grave to protect it from the wolves, and the scouts, headed by Col. Ford, started up to the cheparrals toward Edinburg, keeping a long Yistance between them and any up-river trail. CHAPTER X, THE DEAD DANCE IN THE WATER, For vengeance dark and fell was made As well might reach hell’s lowest shade— A crime it seemed so dire and dread That it had power to wake the dead! * * * * % A crime it was so dire and dread, This mutilation of the dead! Fy the | Ir you had stood upon the high bank of the | Rio Grande, on the American side of the river above theferry at Brownsville, thirty-one hours after the fight between the bandits and scouts at the Monte Crib, you would have seen a most horrible sight, such as would forever have been | stamped upon your memory. old flat-bottom scow, that served_as a ferry- boat, was making its usual trips down below, conveying passengers to and from the Texas shore and Mexico. Matamoras, with the tall turreted-towers of the cathedral looming high up above the low one-story buildings of the city, lay spread outa short distance from the river—anc yond, to the westward, lay the unbroken plains. You could not help noticing, as you stared into the muddy waters above the ferry, a whirl- pool of some extent. The river ee around a bend; at the south end of this bend isa cove, and in this cove a whirlpool. noticed often, if you had been there before, gaz- ing into the broiling waters, a log would enter the pool and go around and around, until, if you watched it you would seem to sympathize with its troubles, an& would gladly, were it not too Touch trouble, release it from its forced circusing and hum-drum pilgrimage, and send it skim- ming down the river toward the sea. But on this particular morning that a most singular object is circling around and around in this whirlpool. It resembles a man. It is aman, and you think he must cer- tainly be a lunatic to be bathing in such a dan- gerous place. You see that others are attracted to this un- usual sight, and you hasten up the river, and | down the bank, fo maké sure that your eyes | have not deceived you. You notice a silent horror upon the counte- nances of those persons who were there before = and instinctively turn your eyes toward e whirling waters. The blood in your veins is suddenly chilled, and the very marrow in your bones seems turned to ice, for the most dreadful, horrible sight you have ever witnessed, is before you. The man you see in the water is dead and mu- tilated. Two knife gashes upon his forehead form a cross; and you observe a larger one up- on his breast, as the force of the wa throws the body up half clear of the foamy waves. At this time you also see a log, about | ten feet in length, which is bound to the waist of the dead man—the ends projecting right and left to hold the body in the position if keeps, and you reason, and correctly, that a stone is attached to the feet of the corpse, to keep it “sae haar body is stripped to nakedness, and below the neck, where the clothing has formerly cov- ered it from the sun, it is terribly white, when eontrasted with the streaks of gore which have dri and run down the cheeks and neck up- om 9 is a frigbefal laugh of derision upon the =¥ ‘ antl al 2 re eT hha You would have | ou observe | r at times | The unwieldy | | betray their object. away be- | He might be a brother; they look so much alike, with the long hair and unshaven faces of Texan ranchero. Round and round go the murdered men--the sport of the seething waters, and yet they are so nicely buoyed that they seem to hold the waters to their service, to give them pleasure. Not only do they whirl with the waters, but at times spin. like a top, while they go around | the circle, and ss te the centér. A fresh thril sweeping around the bend and joins in the ghastly, circling race of death. The significant looks of a few Mexicans near you, whose faces show something of exultation, force upon you, suddenly, the answer to the riddle of the circling pool: The dead bodies of these murdered Texans have been sent down the river by Cortina’s bandits, to show that they can retaliate for the killing of their comrades by the scouts at the Monte Crib, and they are buoyes so that the citizens of Brownsville will be sure to notice them. With a sickening feeling you return up the bank, but a strange fascination causes you to turn again toward the whirlpool; and again your frame shudders as you hurry away as fast of horror runs through the | spectator as another, and another body comes | e New York Library. orobably returned to Washington, hardly te ieving that any organized band of bandits | ever infested the chaparrals! | Youw’uns better squat awhile, inside. | her | in. as your trembling limbs will take ‘you, for you | see that si# dead men are circling around, amid the waters; a perfect mockery of death, inhu- man in its origin, and more brutal than any sav- age act on record. Come with me up the river, thirty miles. We must make a jump of it, for both events occur- red at near thesame time. A dark mass of chap- arral extends in every direction—the prickly- | pear, or nopal predominating amid the mass of thorn-covered bush, shrub and tree. A small opening we observe in this almost impentétrable | sea of thorns. acre in extent. A dozen Mexican horsemen are just leaving this age by a narrow trail; they are armed to t are the followers of Cortina, the scourge of the Rio Grande. vals. We will see what brought them to this isolated spot. Do not refuse me, and say It is not of more than half an | 1¢ teeth, and we know they They disappear amid the chapar- | They must have left some sign to | you have seen enough of horrors, for I wish to | prove to you that the Guerrillas of the chaparrals deserved no mercy, no quarter, from the Texan | Rangers under Col. Ford, and also show you that we need not look to history to prove them | of Indian extraction. Upon the opposite side of the opening, from the point where the Greasers left it, we see | from the | three trees, trimmed. for six feet ground, so we cannot help but notice them, even were it not for the sickening, ghastly sight beneath them. CHAPTER XT. BIG-FOOT WALLACE, His unecombed hairin elf-locks spread Around his bare and matted head; On leg and thigh, close-stretched and trim, Rent buckskin showed the sinewy limb. Roughened the brow, the temples bared And sable hairs with silver shared, Yet lefti—wh&t age alone could tame— The lip of pride, the eye of flame; The full-drawn lip that upward curled, The eye that seemed to scorn the world— That Hp that terror never blenched, Ne’er in that eye hath tear-drop quenched. Inured to danger’s direst form, Tornado, earthquake, floed and storm. Death had he seen by sudden blow, By wasting plague, by tortures slow. By dart or lance, by steel or ball— Knew all his shapes, and scorned them all ‘*Cuss the. sculpers, tha’ve cut my cak Boys; this are the fust sarprise-party she has had, an’ she feels kinder excited, an’ a little wilted artery exartions to amuse the wisiters. Keep away, or she might take a hankerin’ arter a change o’ meat, Ill just yank the dead red¢ outen her chamber, wash her off, and intice her I don’t rec’on ther varmints had time tew cut deep.” Before Big Foot had ceased speaking, Clown, Jack and Rely were in the cabin and the door closed. Clown started a fire and begen to inspect Big Foot’s larder. He soon had venison steaks ee upon the coals, and the ecoffee-pot threw out its fragrant aroma. Having got things under way, for a good meal, Clown turned to his companions and said: “Cheer up, Jack; you’ll be all hunk in the mornin’, Miss Martha, you'll make a good Ranger, I see, by your looks, that this little difficulty atween us an’ the reds ha’n’t set yer back any, Rec’onit don’t matter if I call yer by yer right name hereabouts. Wonder if Big Foot knowed yer ware a female? He's had so much on his hands, that he wouldn’t Jet on, tf he did. Jack, old pard, yer had a ruff time on the run, but it might ’a’ been wuss.” “Wall, Clown, I owes yer aunt her life, an’ J can’t think of the right words tew tell yer how J feel towards yer. I gota hard lick from that Red’s lance, “but I rec’on I’m good for another run. Iwar kinder mad when I heayd yer shoot, thinkin’ Martha were with yer, a&’ in danger. I had ruther ’a’ been laid out cold than she sh’u’d ’a’ been taken, or killed. I couldn’t ever looked in Mrs. Wells’ face, or walked the plazas ag’in.. My mustang I thought a heap on, but he'll never dance over the perraras no more. Miss Martha, [ hope you are ine | well, so we can makea start in the mornin’, furl hate to | linger here; I want to git you safe to the river, Tied, hand and foot, to the trunks of these | trees, are three Texans, stripped naked. A gash extending right and left across their bow- els has allowed the intestines to fall, so that they hang to the ground, The same cross-mark gashes we saw upon the bodies at the whirlpool, disfigure forehead and breast, and streams of blood have left their trails from head to feet. The arm of one is joosened from the tree, and by a string around the neck is made to hold a piece of tobacco to the mouth of the murdered man. Another’s jaw is bound with a buckskin string, and grimly holds a pipe between its teeth. The tongue of the other is cut out from the roots, and—, but enough. What I have told you is to prove the cowardice and brutality of the Mexican invaders of Texas, and I have not told a hundredth part of the bloody deeds that | caused the cry to echo, and re-echo, through the chaparrals; ‘‘ No quarter to Greaser Guerrillas! No mercy to the torturers and mutilaters of Texans!’ No wonder that the trees which overhung the banks of the Rio Grande, on the American side, bore ghastly fruit, which swayed in the wind until the lariat which held it to the limb above | was worn away, and it went dashing down with | dull thuds, into the river! No wonder that it became unsafe for any Mewican, guilty, or not guilty, tomeet a Texan | in the chaparrals on this side of the river. committee of investigation, sent by govern- ment, traveled with a strong escort; they were not molested; it Was poor policy for the Mexi- cans to interfere with them; neither did the believe one-half that was told them by the suf- ferers from these bandits, because they saw gra J of the miscreants; they were lurking in the bush on the Mexican side, reveling upon spoils of past robberies, and the commiétee The | | can, and sha’n’t have any peace of mind till I do.” “Jack and Clown, you have no idea how ¥ have suffered in my thoughts, for the last few hours. Ihave not been much frightened as ta my own safety, but for yours; it would have destroyed my oe forever to have either of you lose your life, because I have been the direct cause of your coming on this trip; I do hope, and pray, that we shall encounter nomore such horrors; I do not think I was ever so terri-+ fied as I was when Big Foot let loose the pans ther among the Indians; I could not but help pity them, at the mercy of such a monster, A hough Iam well aware that they would have been filled with pleasure could they have tor: tured us to the death had they captured us.” “Tt was certainly an original plan for Big Foot to take that method of saving powder.” At this moment the last mentioned person entered the door, loaded down with saddles and lariats, which he had taken from the Indian horses, and threw them down in one corner of the apartment, saying: “Wall, boys, I'see yer ter hum, an’ that’s the the way ter do; just h’ist in all the grub yer You'll want tew feed big, when yar have ithandy. It’s noeasy trip fur a woman. Rec’on Tl shake now with Miss Wells. Knowed yer mother when yer hair was shorter’n what tis now, if yer have cut her off. Yer make a good. lookin’ boy, dogoned if yer don’t. How’s yer marm, an’ what's drivin’ yer this-a-way? I seen, John Moore, an’ yer brother Clay, gliden to’ard the Bravo, six weeks ago.” “Did you see them, Mr. Wallace? Tamnow on my way to my brother, who was taken sick this side of the river. John, I suppose, is in Monte- rey. Jackand Clown very kindly agreed to es- cort me through, but I little expected to have met with danger so soon. We very narrowly escaped with our lives, and had it not been for the refuge afforded here in your cabin, and your noble exertions in ridding us of our enemies, we should now be either dead, or prisoners, which ig worse.” ‘“Tlike yer grit, gal, but it’s a bad move, ’m afeared; ther’ are more’n one war-party an the rainpage atween this an’ the river, an’ the vars mints knows we are hard pressed by the Greas- ers. We recon on havin’ a big squabble with
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No, Cannpewe ‘em, within a week. Ther’s a heap o’ the cusses vamped below, an’ I startyo-morrer tew be in when the lay-out are § qd, an’ I count on slingin’ a few lead chips vuhe game, an’ win every time. If I'd had my vid reliable with me, I'd ’a’ gone with the boys., I can’t count on old Kentuck nolonger, the gun’s a gittin’ wheasy, an’ don’t burn more’n half her powder. I rec’on if I don’t run ag’in any Reds, Vl fetch the brush | in time ter let ’em know I’m thar.” “Tf you do, Mr. Wallace, I would be very rrateful to youif you would say to Mr. Booth hat you saw me and the boys on the way to the Rio Grande, and the reason Iam a-going, a de does not know that Clay is dangerously ill amd if they succeed in driving Cortjna’s gang over into Mexico, that I wish Joe would try and get stationed near to the Guerrero ford, where my brother lays sick.” “Pll do it, Miss Wells. Joe has gone tew Brownsville, arter Old Rip Ford, an’ will cum up when he dus, but what kinder name has Jack got hitched on tew yery now yer playin’ Ran- ger? Rec’on yer better stay a man, as yer are jaow, tew ail appearances. I’ve got no use for females on the perraras, except female pan- thers. I goes heavy on them, an’ I rec’on you'll go halves, now you've seen how b’utiful she wel- gumed her wisiters.” ‘The boys call me Rely because I carry the ‘old reliable’ Sharpe’s rifle, and they can catch | the mame easy, being used to that arm,” Ss cream-skimmer, an’ he still lingers, an’ will, I rec’on, till the wust fitein’ are over in these | States; but, see here, I'l take a bite with yer, and we'll all roll up fur a snooze, an’ git ready tew git in the mornin’. I’m fur down country an’ you’uns, acrost yer nags is hunk. «I’ve hob- bled ’em out, and picked a peart mustang fur you, Jack, as you’rn’s wiped out.” | themselves in blankets upon the rushes, which were scattered over one corner of the room, and were soon asleep. Early in the morning all were astir, and while Clown prepared the breakfast Jack jumped upon one of the Indian horses, bounded away on the back trail and soon returned with his saddle, bridle, blankets and tricks which he had taken from his dead mustang. In an hour all were ready for the start and mounted. Big Foot threw all his venison in to the pan- ther, saying he had engaged a Mexican, who lived up the stream, to feed the animal every three days. ‘* An’ now, boys,.an’ Miss Reliable, our trails branch off. Jack, keep yer eyes open if yer have,to jam in sum terbacca to smart ’em intew keepin’ so. Ther’s Reds along the Neuaces arter loose stock an’ sculps, an’ yer must look sharp or yer'll loose your’n. I know yer a boss stage- man, but yer hain’t had enuff perrara tew make yer tew cautious. Clown, yersumon Reds, Kit Carson, Jr., the Crack Shot of the West. toward the Rio Grande, we will flit again to the chaparrals. q Near to the second horse-shoe bend, in the Ric Grande, above the town of Edinburg, and about twenty miles from that town, was encamped Cortina with his bandit army. The camp was _-. | about two miles from the river in a large open- The simple meal was -soon eaten; all rolled bout ten acres in ex- 2 a ing in the chaparrals of tent. The United States government road, built at great expense, through the sea of briers, thorns and vegetable daggers, which led from fort Brown to the up-river military posts, and ran &S near as possible parallel with the river, was between the camp of the guerrillas and the Rio Grande, and within one-half mile of their camp, south. To the north, west and north-east of this opening was an impenetrable chaparral; to the souta-east toward l'ort Brown, the only portion of the camp from which an enemy could charge upon them, and then with great difficulty, a few guards were posted, more intent upon their own comfort than looking out for foes, which they had no idea were within hundreds of miles, They knew, or thought they knew, that there vas no force of sufficient numbers to have the audacity to attack them. The news of the Rangers having returned ta San Antonio from the Indian wars had not reached them, on account of the spies sent to THEY DREW THEIR KNIVES, AND LIKE TIGERS LEAPED OVER THE DEAD BODY OF THEIR COMRADE TOWARD JACK.—Page 6, ‘Well, that’s cute, an’a good nametew. I wish they’d call me Sharpe’s, or Coit either; I wouldn't kick at it, fur Ive got tired of Big Foot. Look a ther! Do you’uns call them big huffs? Tew be sure it takes a hull buck-hide tew cover ’em. Ihave tew find a roomy open- in’ tew spread myself in, an’ git outen the blan- kets tew turn over; but it takes a heap tew tip sne when I’m balanced on ’em, Atascosa boys’ll tell yer that I kicked ther Chanted Rock clean frox%n Devil’s river. Now, I’m ready tew swar, with my right claw on the Alamo-walls, that I never seen the rock ’till I scouted up that-a-way | elong of Col. Judson—some folks calls him Ned | Buntline; that war long ago.” “Then you knew Ned Buntline, did you, Mr, Wallace?’ “Rec’on I did; an’ most en the boys whas war in the Mexican war knowed him. He war throw’ that serape, an’ in the Seminole war, I beard Wild Cat tell a heap about what a cuss that Judson was tew fight. That war arter Wild Cat’s part of the tribe located in Mexico; | an’ I rec’on he’d scratch Ned sum if he gota jump at him. He is a tuff one, that Judson, Ho's been drowned a few times, hung up fur | seed, but they’ll never projuce another like him, ebawed up an’ spit out, cut into steaks, jobbed or'’ with knives, arrars, lances an’ balls like a | | make ’em take water or wilt. T know, but yer young, an’ rather fight than run or keep clear on it by watchin’ ther ground. If yer see a trail, know afore yer leave it whar it’s agoin’, an’ if thar’s any chances for ’em tew run agin’ yer. If yer war alone yer needn’t ter be so karefull, but that gall has a mother, ever cross my section, 2 Greasers on ther jump, an’ I kalkerlate we'll Right thar!” and shaking the hands of Jack, Clown and Shake: [’'m agoin’ fur | that city to bring the news of any expedition being fitted out against them having been killed in the fandango by Jack Hodge and Clown, | previous to their starting to the Rio Grande with Miss Martha Wells; consequently, the | Guerrillas were not only careless but very ims an’ you’ns better take care on her, or don’t yer Rely, Big Foot Wallace dashed down the San | Miguel, mounted upon a powerful black half- breed, and was soon lost to view in the bottom | | timber. The horrible scream of the panther, who | seemed to know that her master had deserted prudent in not having out proper guards. They were, like the pirates of old, laying idla, carousing and gambling, having on hand sap- plies in large quantities, taken from the sancheq which they had robbed and burned. The central portion of the camp upon the little prairie were picketed mustangs, half- breeds, and mules by the hundreds, and in a brush-corral was confined a large number of fa¥ | beeves, which were dragged out and butchered her, caused the horses of our friends to tremble | | with fear as they forded the river and sped on to\the south. “Wonder whar the dead Reds have gone tew? The kayotes hain’t eat ’em so quick, I know,” said Jack, “Bio Foot sculped ’em last night an’ slung ’em in the river. Come on; let’s git clear of the timber an’ see war we're agoin’. KRec’on we'll have tew make a dry camp at noom, and fetch the Rio Frie tew-night.” Leaving our heroing gnee more gn the move, as they wanted them. All around the borders of this opening were the smoldering camp-fires, and ponneth the shade of the musquits which fringed it, were strewn horse-furnishings, biankets, provisions, | and cooking utensils. From the canvas-covered wagons, of which there. were half a dozen, the strong smell of aguardiente, muscal, and Paris wine hovered, and the constant stream of Greasers, to and from these wagons, to fill their gourds, told | plainly that the bandits were |.aving a regular | drinking carouse.
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18 = Gambling was carried on all through the vamp, and monte games were at nearly every | camp-fire—a blanket spread upon the ground serving in ee of a table. Here and there were, Mexicans, lying upon their blankets, sleeping ‘off the effects of. the | deep potations they had indulged in. Flies by The | the thousands were hovering.and buzzing over | and about the sleeping forms, tormenting them | with sharp bites There were at least six hundred Guerrillas in samp, besides those up and down the govern- ment road, drinking, sleeping, and gambling the | ; one of the scouts, stationed at some distance time away. For three months they had been sweeping up and down the river, committing dark and bloody deeds, with no power present to stop them or | | they know they are friends, or a different sig- punish them. They little thought that within half a night's ride of them were near three hundred desperate Texan Rangers, holding in their bosoms the bate of years and eager for revenge. Just south of the government road, in a small opening, which would have been unnoticed until ou broke into it, was encamped the chaparral | fox, Cortina, and his officers and body-guard. | ‘They, too, were having a feasting and drinking bout, under a tent formed by brilliant-colored ‘Mexican blankets, or serapes. Cortina, the finest looking man among them all, was clothed in a. complete suit of embroi- dered buckskin. The seams of jacket and leg- zins were ornamented with buttons made from Mexican gold coin, and a golden snake, with ruby eyes, coiled around his sombrero as a band, You would little think, if you were so fortu- nate, or unfortunate, as to be in his presence that you were gazing upon the most bruta murderer upon the American continent; an dutlaw upon both sides of the Rio Grande, but Be feaved by his followers that they dare not betray him—a man who has been hunted by the sharpest scouts, shot at a hundred times, but | who still gracefully, and with the becoming bravado of a Mexican bandit, appears here, there, and everywhere, when least expected— <lancing at this fandango, or betting his stolen dloubleons at that monte house, until all, Mexi- can or American, have been forced to believe that he bears a charmed life, or has made a con- | tract with the Evil One—probably the latter is the most general conclusion among the ignorant. denizens of the chaparrals. But, we have glanced into his any and see- ing how things are situated, we are better pre- pared for the events which hover over it be- mueath a blood-red sunset sky. CHAPTER XIL THE SPY’S REVELATION, Tim sun was slowly hiding his face in the | chaparrals to the west as three compenics of | Rangers, commanded by John Donaldson, Mat Nolan, and John Littleton, came together from wifferent directions, and encamped in a small _— opening, some ten miles north-west of Ddinburg. Phere was no shouting, no confusion; every- thing was conducted in a quiet and orderly man- ner, as if the Rangers had been subjected to strict discipline, but it was just the reverse. Kvery man knew that the success of the cam- paign depended upon caution and silence. The camp was well chosen, to be secure from o}servation, in a-musquit opening, the trees standing in small clumps, at from forty to sixty Pe : <n A tin reasine it, even in the iow tones Whicn nat fest apart. #s s00n as the captains of the companies met and were eagerly exchanging salutations and news, each of the heads of messes rode for the particular bunch of trees which was to be the eamping spot of his mess, and divested his horse | of the equipments, which were hung from the branches of trees—the other Rangers of his mess folowing his example. The guard in the rear, having charge of the | ck mules (there being one of these animals al- | owed to each mess of six men, to convey the | provisions, and cooking utensils), left each mule | at its mess. tn ten minutes the horses are staked out to graze, the mules unpacked, hobbled, and every maan at his place, each engaged in his particular mess duty. Eyory thing is as regular as clock-work, with- eat any previous irksome drill, or discipline, for there-are but few in the command who do not | know the regular, self-imposed duties of a Ran- | ger, thet are necessary for his own and the sompapy’s safety. The colonel or captain dips his chunk of corn- | three times, without gazin’ at ther brand, pone into the same gravy, in the same frying- | pan, as the Ranger. In fact, when the fight comes off, each man’s business, in frontier war- fare, is to be his own captain. The bread was baked in the out a the pre- vious morning, and the barbecued beef needed but a slight warming through, so a small fire, sufficiont to boil a pot of coffee (which no prairie meal is complete without), is all that is needed, and that for a short time—the thick chaparrals beyond and around completely hiding all the blaze, and the smoke not likely te be observed tm such a level-wooded country, After the suppers are eaten, and everything | loosening New York Library. _ | pertaining to the same had been placed handy | for packing, then this or that Ranger is hunting a former Ranging ies ga in some of the other companies. Sociable chats were indulged in, along with the pipe, and cigarette. The guards are posted: outside the camp, and the horses are outside of them, but in plain view encireling the bivouac. sefore dark, every horse will be feeding upon new ground, inside the guard line. The low murmur of many voices hovers around, until the shrill scream of a panther from from the Rangers, at the approaches to the camp, warns them that humans of some kind are near them, and coming within the lines; nal would have greeted them, Every man is upon his feet, gazing toward the quarter from whence proceeded the signal. The rumbling tramp of a squad of horsemen upon the sward strikes their ears, and then a cavalcade of well-known forms break through the musquits. The Rangers flock from all quarters of the camp toward the newly-arrived men, and as they are recognized, hundreds of sombreros whirl over their heads, and the hiss of 2 rattle- snake breaks from the lips of every Ranger in | the camp, causing the leaves to tremble, and whirl upon the trees, and filling the air with a | strange, piercing sound, that would tear the | | nerves of some men into giblets. At the scout line, this noise resembled the long-drawn sigh of a coming norther. The rattle, the jump, and bite of the snake were to come, before another sun! Not a werd broke the silence that followed, when Colonel Ford, Kit Carson, Jr., Reckless | Joe, and the remainder of their fellow-Rangers, | from fort Brown (with the See, of Tom | Clark, who had gone on ahead an toward the bandit-camp to spy out the position of affairs with the Greasers), halted their mus- tangs in a group, and elevated their sombreros tothe crowd of sun-burned, fire-browned Ran- gers of the Lone Star State. They had evidently traveled far, and ‘were greatly fatigued, and ready hands assisted to the care of their animals. A warm shaking of honest hands followed. “The sight of your face, Colonel Ford, is as cheering as a fresh spring, high up on the bracky Brazos. Come, all of you, to my mess, and take in your provinder.” ‘ “Do you hear that, me lords? Cap. bids us to the feast! By heavens, can this be thusly— that, amid these barren chaparrals can be found branched off | Vol. 1, Boe the leggings of Tom—the small brush: wood, which had been thrown upon the embers of the camp-fire, blazed up, showing to both that Tom was wounded and in a dead fain. *‘Gentlemen,” said Kit, ‘‘'Tom’s hurt! Hustle around for waiter and bandages. Joe, get the pain-killer from my saddle-bags! Be lively!” Kit ran his bowie-knife down, cutting the leggings clear of Tom’s leg. His boot was pulled off with difficulty, and found to be | soaked, and part filled with blood, which had flowed from a long, but not dangerous cut, upo# his thigh. The hard riding, since the wound had been received, caused it to bleed freely. Tom’s leg was bathed; the wound bandaged; the pain-killer applied, and a strong dose of the same was forced down his throat. This revived him, and he sat up, locked wildly around, as | the Rangers bathed his head, | a long rest; hain’t seen any “Made ther riffle, by the blood o’ Crockett! Shoved her through; glided in hunk, without bu’stin’. Let’s see how things war,” said Tom, as he leaned his elbows on his knees, and eov~ ered his forehead an@ eyes with his hands, ** Don’t bother yourself now, Tom; drink this coffee and take a bite. You are about famished, let alone the cut an’ ride. You can tell us what's the news when you feel better,” said Col. Ford. “Yer right, colonel; my grinders have had grub since Ileft yer yesterday, down-river, an’ my stonm-jacket’s as empty as a Greaser’s head. Sling along sum- thin’ what’s solid an’ n’urishin’. Everything’s hunk up-river, pards, so don’t fret yersel’s.” The whole Ranger force, with anxious ve | stood around the mess of Donaldson, but no | pressing near enough to incommode those en: gaged in attending upon the scout. They watched every motion of the wounded man, knowing that ina measure the success of the coming attack upon the bandit camp de- pended upon information he had obtained, and | the manner of his obtaining the same. The question was, had Tom alarmed the | Guerrillas, in the combat in which he had been in when the wound was received? But those | who knew Tom best were perfectly satisfied that which will cure the dreadful gnawings of | | himself up against the saddle behind him, and hunger, which has run riot within me ventrical of digestion? Scon Ill be fitted to exclaim— ‘ Joseph is himself again!’ Kit, come sit beside me, i know your tongue will wag with words, causing your stomach t emptiness, so [ll get the more myself. that corn-sack of dried-beef this way! UU that such was not the case, by his manner, ang by his former way of doing business of like character. No one spoke a word as Tom eat, as well as he could, in his exhausted condition, the food placed before him by his brother Rangers. Col. Ford and the captains sat near waiting for him to satisfy himself, when they knew he would give an. account of bis scout, and ex plain his wound; also the condition and site ation of the bandit camp. When Tom’s appetite was satisfied he shoved leaned his head upon bis hands a moment, then glanced around the circle of Rangers, and ad- | dressed them: o suffer, regardless of its | Hist | make it grow visibly less, before your very | é | war torn sum, by the chaparral, an’ struck dir eyes!” “Tess talk an’ more feedin’, Joe; but I | needn’t say that when you git started, Kit, as | you say, can do the talkin’ for the crowd, but he | knows he must sling it in infant tones, here,” said Col. Ford, Ali hands were soon busily eating. Even Kit, ‘‘There’s a heap on yer on the anxious-seats ter-night, an’ Vl sling my sarmon intew a few breef remarks... I lit out hunk, from our camp, down-river, and dashed er good till my na ruther heavy with his huffs. Then I slid im toward their gov’ment road, ter git anuthef hoss. I roped a stray, an’ changed my saddle, then got re’dy ter cut inter the bush ag‘in, when | I see a Greaser cumin’ up their trail, but he | didn’t git his gazers on me, yer bet! for once, was mum, for there was something in | the deep silence of the camp, and so many men were thore, that a person seemed to dread been used so far. The Rangers eat with an appetite which can only be enjoyed by those who live in the open } air, and sleep upon mother earth. After the meal, as the twilight deepened, the horses were brought in and picketed within the inner circle of the guards, Ali were enjoying their pipes and cigarettes; in fact, your real bona-fide Rio Grande Ranger is an inveterate smoker of corn-shuck cigar- ettes, and mixes in with his frontier English, a good smattering of Spanish, in an off-hand, shoulder-shrugging style. The murniur of low voices became once again hushed, as a second panther scream pierced the night air, and Tom Clark, mounted upon a fast- | pacing, half-breed nag, rode wp. to Donaldson’s mess, where the principal officers and scouts were congregated. “‘Towde, pards! all. on yer! peace commish‘ner, Sixty mile on a hard run, since I left yer, colonel. Swopped mustangs Give me a rest,” and Tom slid off his horse, wpon a blanket and rested his head on a saddle. . It was ‘*T hid my mustang in ther brush, an’ laid fur the cuss with my rope, one end fast tew a tnus: quit tree, clost tew me. When the Greaser came alongside 0’ my hidin’-place he war ina deep study on how tew git up anuther reverlu- tion arter he’d got all stole this side the river that war wuth stealin’. He war figerin’ on ther exact words of ther pronunci’mento he war in- tendin’ ter issue, when the noose of my lariat fell in love with his neck. “THe war a fust cut Greaser, you might kno’, or these things I've mentioned w'u'd not ’a’ been in his head, an’ afore he got ’em out or knew what exactly ware up, his spurs went fer blud, | an’ he went fur the dit about as quick as lubri- cated lightnin’, fur his nag had biz up the river, Im stiffer’n a | too dark for the Rangers to see that he was as | pale as death, his clothing torn by chaparral traveling, and his leggings stained with biood, “Hunky boy, Tom!” said Col. Ford. “I knew you'd make the riffle, if *twas to be done, Kit, sling him out some strong coffee, Joe, git out sum of yer rattlesnake-oil, and rub his joints. He’s done hard ridin’, now, for two days. Mighty big job to make his leagues in these cussed chaparrals; *twouldn’t be nothin’ on the open prairies.” When Kit brought the coffee, and Joo was or thought he had, by the way the spurs lit in- tew him, an the musquit tree didn’t care tew go. “7 thought ther cuss had gone tew the red- pepper reg’ons, sure, and loosened the rope, an’ ware musin’ on ther chances of life an’ de’th on the Rio Grande, an’ givin’ an’ eye up and down the road when I got that cut from ther yaller-belly, and had tew bleed him tew malkg him more docile. “Don’t yer fret, colonel, I dragged thes; Montezuma intew ther bush afore I eased him, off ag’in, an’ left no sign on their trail; smoot& ed her over with a bush. I was tuck back now by his nag, thinkin’ ther animals might tell tales, so I kinder scouted up ther , found him feedin’, roped him an’ tuck him in ther bush in ther Jead, an’ that’s the quadrupid what J cum in on; he’s right peart on ther pace, as yer probably noticed. ‘Wall, all strai’t, so fur. I then slid thr’n’ ther chaparral north, whar I left the nag I rode in here, and put fur the cut-throat camp. ‘¢T knew just whar tha war by ther buzzards; ther war heaps on ’em hoverin’ over ther Greas» er camp. Leftmy horse an’ snaked it thr’u’ the
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No, 3. - : ° ’ frush, with a wuss scratchin’ than Big Foot’s panther c’u’d ’a’ gi’n me. “T had a dead sure thing on it when I got glost in tew thare camp. The hull lay-out war gpre’d afore me, Fact on it was, thar was a good many lay-outs, for monte, on ther squar’ an’ off, war agoin’ in about every bunch of Greasers. “They have took sum waguns frum the ranches, an’ got ’em loaded down with sumthin’ that flops ’em over tew grass; ther war a heap en ’em on ther snoose. ‘“Tt's a sizey camp, but I rec’on we’ve got the softest thing out, tew catch ’em nappin’. I didn’t see ther boss, Cortina, or I rec’on my “told reliable” w’u’d ’a’ gone off on ther half- cock and ’a’ sp’iled their biz. “Tf tha expects ther Greaser what I run ag’in down river, fur—as I said, he war a reg’lar sport, an’ like enuff a pard of ther boss Greaser—why, he won’t cum; an’ all I hav’ tew say is, that Kit Carson, Jr., the Crack Shot of the West. ernment road between the Greaser camp and | their pickets. this good-lookin’ crowd, countin’ in myself, hav’ | t tew do some tall shootin’ an’ cuttin’ afore r sun comes ter-morra mornin’, or stand a @hance tew lose what’s now a dead sure thing. **Pass anuther drink o’ that coffee, Joe; I’m es dry as a Mormon sarmon, and clean gone fur | a snoose. We can fetch up at thar camp by four in ther mornin’ an’ start at midnight; I | laao’ the trail clean thr’w’.” An exultant and gratified expression rested |. upon the features of every man. The hand of Col. Ford stole within the gras of Tom Clark’s fingers: he pressed. them. with ‘eat thankfulness for the service the daring tanger had rendered the State in the very haz- erdous undertaking of spying on the camp of | anenemy, who would have exulted in torturing | bad they captured him. Tom swallowed his coffee and sunk down upon is former resting-place. A number of blan- ets were doubled, a soft bed made, upon which brotherly hands lifted the now haltf-asleep Tom. | Joe sat by his side, whisking away the tor- turing insects which infest the chaparrals. Low spoken orders from Col. Ford were pass- | ed from man to man, to have all arms inspected fy their owners, and everything ready for a midnight march upon the bandit camp. In half an hour after Tom Clark fell asleep all the Rangers were rolled in their blankets, except the guard, to take a short repose before | starting. How many, think you, thought upon the | robability of its being their last sleep, except ho sleep of death? [ venture to say the number was small, for they were men who did not stop to think of the danger of a move—men to whom danger and death had been next door neighbors—brave | ever to recklessness. CHAPTER XIII. THE BLOODY FRAY. "Twas then in hour of utmost noed He proved his courage, art and speed; Now slow he stalked with steady pace, Now started forth in rapid race. + + ’ * * * His look grew fixed, his cheek grew pale; He sunk before he told his tale; Vor all his desperate, daring ride A dagger wound was in his side. > * oh * * * Comrades leave him here a little, Let him rest till early morn— Leave him here, and when we want him Sound upon the bugle-horn! When round them as the bugles blew, Their arms three hundred Rangers drew. Ss % * ” 5 * * ‘Twero hard to tell of this battle’s roar As swept the fight along the shore— What reins were tightened in despair As Texan yells rung through the air! * * 7 * af * One dying look he upward cast Of wrath and anguish—‘twas his last. + * r ” * * os So did the deep and darksome pass Deyour the battle’s mingled mass; None linger now upon the plain, Save those vho ne'er shall fight again, Tue moon was shining bri¢htly, as the Ran- The gobble of a turkey was to be the signal for making ready, and a panther scream for the grand charge of the Rangers. The loud laughter, the frequent cry of ‘‘ Brin- do ala salud de Cortina,” (I drink to the health of Cortina,) the ‘‘Carracas,” ‘‘Malditos,” heaped upon the tontos Gringos, showed plainly that the bandits were carrying on their carouse into the night, and that they little thought the Tex- ans they were cursing so frequently, were with- in a pistol shot of them, preparing to scatter death through their camp. This noise and confusion were favorable to the Rangers, as if would prevent the Mexicans from hearing the whisking of the branches as the Texans were making their way near enough for the charge to be more sudden and over- whelming. Probably many of the bandits thought strange to hear the prolonged gobble of a turkey near their camp, for no ranche was near, and no turkeys were in the chaparral, but, before the strangeness of the sound struck through their somewhat muddled brains, amore bewildering and terrific sound pierced their ears. The shrill scream of a panther was followed by the dull thunder of a thousand hoofs, and | then the dread Texas yell, from near three hun- dred throats rung through the chaparral. The crashing and cracking of branches—the snort and «plunge of deep-spurred steeds, and a sight burst upon the bandits’ bewildered eyes that turned their yellow cheeks to a ghastly hue. Those sleeping in their blankets awoke in hor- ror and fear, only to die, for that long irregular line of Texans was presented to their view but an instant, before a scathing sheet of fire burst out along the whole easterly side of their camp, and the rattling thunder of hundreds of Colt’s revolvers sent their leaden messengers of death among the Guerrillas. Down came the avalanche of vengeance over them. Down thundered the thousand hoofs, crushing the bones and crushing the life from all before them! Many of the bandits’ horses broke loose and | stampeded wildly about, trampling their own masters to death, and assisting in their defeat. The first portion of the camp charged upon was one mass of dead and gasping bandits; but when the Rangers once more formed in line, and prepared to charge over the space occupied by the animals and corral, the Guerrillas on the westerly side of the camp were mostly mounted, many of them riding bare-back, and ready to meet the Rangers, but in a confused mass. They would have retreated had it been possi- | ble for them to penetrate the chaparrals in their rear. Cortina, with his officers and guard, now oined his disheartened and confused cutthroat tend; and the loud cries of ‘‘ Vive Cortina!” | filled the air, as he yelled to them, ‘ Courage, + 19? soldats!” (Courage, soldiers!) ‘‘Tenez fermes!” (Stand firm!) The vociferations of the Mexicans was drowned by the deafening thunder and blinding flash of the rifles of the whole Ranger force, as they fired across the opening into the robber-ranks, mowing them to the earth by scores before their | chief could form them into order. The rifle-straps were dropped over the saddle- horns of the Rangers; their revolvers were again drawn, cocked, and held pointing down- | ward at arm’s length behind the leg; the left | hand held the bridle rein firmly, and every man braced himself for another grand charge. No orders were given, but each Ranger knew what to do and when to do it. Once more the Texan yell! Once more the overwhelming wave of ven- geance rolled toward the bandits. Fast flew | the hail of lead from both sides—many of Cor- tina’s men heving revolvers, and nearly all | escopetas. saddled up at a quarter to twelve o’clock, | tn the night that Tom Clark brought in the in- Gelligence from the bandit camp. The camp tricks, pack-mules and extra horses Were left behind in charge of a small guard. At midnight the columns of Rangers were Winding snake-like through the chaparrals. Col. Right into the masses of Mexicans charged the Texans, ‘‘Remember the Alamo!” ringing through the blood-tainted air. Muzzle to muzzle! Steel to steel! The horrible shrieks of wounded and mad- dened mustangs; the yells of agony, despair, fear, and death; the almost endless rattle of re- volver shots; the louder detonations of the | Sharpe’s rifles; the malditos of the Mexicans; ¥ord and Tom Clark, (the spy having recovered | somewhat from the exhaustion and wound that had prostrated him the evening before,) were in advance acting as guides. As silently as practicable they made their | Way, tearing through the thorny brush from one ee to another for nearly four hours, when | they f ound themselves in the vicinity of the campof the Guerrillas. A hice from the lips of- Col. Ford was passed from lip to lip, down the long line, bringing them to a halt. Col. Ford detached Mat Nolan’s and John Lit- tleton’s companies—one to charge the bandits from the position they now occupied; the other branch off a hundred yards above, and and his men south to enter the gov- “ | the smoke which was slowly liftin the war-cries of the Texans; the swish of lariats through the air; the sickening smell of burnt powder and human bodies all were at length shrouded in a pall of dense smoke, which soon masked friend from foe. ‘**Demonias Gringoes! demonias del inferno!” came from the terrified bandits, as they hud- | | dled together amid the smoke. The rallying yell of Colonel Ford brought the | powder-grimed, and blood- | Rangers, panting, stained, from out the smoke of battle, to hastily | reload, amid the slain, in that portion of the | camp first charged. chief now collected his men to- | The bandit gether, next the line of chaparral, and behind from the field, to make a desperate dash for the govern- | ment road to the south. They would have to run the gantlet of the | | their course of retreat lay, is that w | their sallow cheeks a shade more ghastly, and | buckskin rags, his long, unkempt hair flyi | a Camanche warrior’s, bis forehead to the eyes Range a was in advance, with a dozen of his body-guard riding between him and the Texans, to shield their chief from h: thick smoke, the indiscriminate mixture Cortin rm. The thick friend and foe, had rendered it useless carry on the battle at the time the Rangers were recalled by Colonel Ford to the easterz portion of the camp. The Rangers were now reloaded and prepar ing for another charge, when, out through the smoke, hugging close to the border of the chap- arrals, dashed the Guerrillas. ‘*Give ’em blue beans, boys, in place of the black ones they gave the Mier prisoners J” yelled Colonel Ford, and another galling fire from the rifles of the Texans hurtled through them. The weapons of the bandits, fired-on the run, flew wild and did but little execution, but Tom - Clark, weak and faint from his wound of the previous day, was unlucky enough to be struck with a ball, and as he sunk forward and grasped his horse’s mane for support, he called upon Kit Carson to go for Cortina. ‘*Pon’t let ther cuss slip yer. what sent the pill at me.” Maddened by the fall of Tom, Kit drove his oo home, and charged alone at the guard of the bandit chief, letting fly a fusilade of revol- ver shots among them, and then, with the quick- ness of thought, his lasso whirled through the air, the noose falling directly over the head of Cortina; but in an instant the rope was severed by the knife of a guard, and down thundered the main body of the bandits in a surging mass, nearly cutting Kit off from his friends, a dozen bullets whistling about him. Three deadly volleys from the rifles of the Rangers cut through the Gueggillas before the last of them entered the government road. Then the loud, exultant laugh of Old Rip Ford broke out, as he yelled to his men: ‘“ We've got ’em, boys! there in the trap, Give them enough of Texas lead to keep ’em on rare own side of the river, if they ever get there!” In one dense, disordered crowd, the Greasers were huddled in the road, which was bordered on both sides by achaparral so thick and thorny that a snake of any size would have found it difficult te penetrate. For a quarier of a mile tLis road was as straight as an arrow. Now it was, as the hail of balls cut thro them, that they saw, too late, that it would have been better for them to have cut their way through the Rangers, to the east, than to have entered this narrow road, withm -which nearly half their number lay weltering in blood. The messengers of death flew thick and fast among them from the Texans in their rear, who of "Twas him | had every advantage, and they no chance to re- turn the fire. Sixty bandits fell dead in as many yards. Down dashed the Rangers, over the dead, and crushing the life from the wounded, in swift pursuit. An opening bordered on the road as it turned toward the river, three-fourths of a mile from the bandits’ camp. The Mexicans came to this opening, but they knew there was | no safety in their making a stand, the river was the only point of safety. But coming across the opening, ee which lich makes deepens the horror and fear which the battle- field behind has stamped upon their features, and which the thundermg hoofs of the pursuing | Texans has frozen there. Two horsemen are coming across the small prairie likethe wind. But, why should two £ a robber crew, of near two hundred men? | cause they know that wholesale death, of which they have had enough for one day, always marks the trails of those whom they see bound- ing toward them. Mounted upon a coal-black mustang, that springs toward the Greaser ranks as thongh the animal was a partner with his master in the hate and detestation he bears to those before him, on comes Big Foot Wallace! His sombrero is lashed to his saddle, his hair flies free behind, the bridle-rein hangs loosely | over the saddle-horn, two large Colt’s revolvers fill the holsters, ready for use ata half-cock, and two more hang from his belt, while his hands are oceupied with his ‘‘ Old Reliable,” which he is about to bring to his shoulder. A little to the south of Big Foot—wild and haggard, with bloodshot eyes, and in tattered like brows daubed with blood-red, beneath wh -_ "ge piercing eyes flash hate, bounds Wi UU! He is bareback upon a mustang, whose sweep ing tail, long mane and wildness, show ar capture, a raw-hide rope around the under jaw to control the animal, but turn right or left toe much, a blow from a long, glittering saber apon the side of the head, throws the horse back ta his course. A Colt’s revolver in the ne hand of Will shows he means that to do work before he gets near enough for the saber, which an Indian or Mexican dreads more than other weapon.
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8 20 — In sheaths, running down each boot-leg, are §wo huge bowie knives. Ths Guerrillas, with cries of terror, drive the tong rowels of their spurs into the flanks of their mustangs, and strive to get ahead of the two avengers, but in vain; the Sharpe's riflo of Big | Foot is now at work at long range;a bandit | ‘ | the waters ingulf him as they had his poor vic- reels, grasps at empty air, and falls beneath the tlattering hoofs at every discharge. On, on, come the avengers! guard in advance seem likely to escape contact with this last danger, as they are better mount- ed than their followers. The bandits fire a few scattering shots, which fly over the heads of Big Foot and Wild Will. ew York Library. Vol, ¥ } | and then the muddy waters close over them | forever, Cortina and his | The Greasers leave the road, and make for a | rully which the water has worn down into the Rio Grande, but which is now dry. The avengers are nearly on them, quartering as they run, The rifle strap of Big Foot slips over the horn of his saddle; out come the two revolvers, one in each hand, and with the wild Texas yell | bursting from his powerful lungs, he is among them, the quick, sharp reports of his revolver | sounding in their ears, and every shot sending a | bandit to his long home. To stop in their retreat is certain death, for | | steep, treacherous banks, and hasten to hide in the thunder of the Rangers is close in their rear. They seem powerless and paralyzed with fear, Right and left they drop and. cover the trail with dead. Through and through their’ ranks dashes Big Foot, the giant of the border, death marking every plunge of his coal-black steed. Not a movement escapes him, not a bandit raises. his weapon that does not draw a: shot from Big Foot, that ends forever his guilty life. On come the Rangers. Thoy had gained upon the Guerrillas, and were just about to open fire again, when Big Foot and Wild Will were seen cutting the columns of their flying foes asunder, The Rangers held their breath with admira- tion and deep concern at the sight of the charge Certina, with the laugh of an exultant fiend bursting from his lips, speeds like the wind: to | rejoin his command; he just escapes being cut off and captured; he reaches the river and urges his horse into the raging torrent. Why do not tim a moment before? Justice echoes, why! The fiying Guerrillas come flocking down like frightened sheep, so huddled together as to im- pede the general progress. Their horses are completely fagged, and the Rangers in their rear, are pouring into their reduced ranks a | | galling fire, strewing the deep gully with dead. Col. Ford, Big Foot, Kit Carson, Reckless Joe, Mike and others dismount, and station themselves on the high bank of the river, and the long-range Sharpe’s rifles are now brought into use, One after another of the bandits, madly buf- feting with the current to gain their native shore, throw up their arms and sink beneath the waters as the balls from the Rangers’ rifles pen- etrate their heads or backs as they swim. dot the river for a long distance down the stream. They struggle out, one by one, climb up the | the dense chaparrals of the Mexican side, | | of two upon nearly two hundred, but they speed ri ~ * i ; on over the dead and dying victims of Wallace and Will. But, what has become of Wild Will? His maniac yeli sent a shiver of horror down through the fiving bandits as he charged among them with his giant comrade, and then madly plung- ing on his untamed steed, he urged the animal down past the flying horde toward its front, his gaber at intervals cleaving th ir and descend- g upon the doomed head of the ; appene to bo near him. Why does he leave Big Foot? We will follow him, and sec. He makes furiously past all the flying M gans, There are, none ahead except Cortina and his guards, and they are nearing the gully which leads to the river. The object of Willis evident; ho is after the blood of the bandit chief, and even this man, who fears neither God or man, trembles in his boots as he turns in his saddle, and sees the madman avenger, close upon his trail. Suddenly asmile of demoniac pleasure spreads ever the face of Cortina. Ho turns his horse away from the course toward the gully; he mo- tions his guard to keep on, and pushes on to the s2uth himself, so as to strike the river a hundred yards from the gully, where the bank is sheer gown one liundred feet to the water. Wild Will gallops on after Cortina, The inaniac and the bandit chief are now coming to close quarters Will lashes bis horse with his long saber, uritil the animal flies over the low bushes like the wind. Cortina’s horse bounds toward a point where a fow scraggy musquits stand higher than the others. He Svidenty knows his ground well. He halts his horse, and turns him half around so the broadside af the animal is toward Will, the horse’s head pointing up the river. Not three feet’ beyond the horse, sheer off down the dizzy hight, run the sluggish wa- ters of the Rio Grandoe. A wild, insane laugh Bhar h bursts on the air from the lips of ill, as, holding his saber in his right hand, he draws a bowie-knife from his boot, and plunges the point into the hams of his mustang. ith snorts of terror and pain, the poor beast leaps madly toward Cortina, the dreaded saber ing at either side of the head to guide the animal; right on to the bandit chief bounds the maddened steed, and more maddened rider. Cortina sits coolly waiting, to meet the charge. A few more bay and these men will ¢ome together in mortal combat, or—what will happen? e horse of Will is again tortured by the eruel knife of the master, so eager for blood; but a single bound separates them, as both spurs of Cortina are dashed intoi his horse’s flanks, burying them deep in the quivering flesh of the animal, who springs and plunges forward. The saber of Wild Will hisses through the air behind the head of the bandit chief, and the madman and his horse, with fearful momentum, coe Sbeahey es 8 paeinies b Agra tag a td high bank, and down, cov ey plunge mm the fearful hight! One instant tie ern end they eet the air with the velocity of lightning, | ther thing what’s meanderin’? in my mind. The horse of Cortina carried his master faith- fully to the opposite side of the river, upon whieh the animal could gain no foothold, and exhausted, sunk heneath the waves, while the bandit chief clamibered up the bank in safety, amid a shower of balls, The most of his guard also escaped, they hav- ing been best mounted and first at the river, but one of them having his hatred augmented by his over-exertions, his fear dispelied by dis- tance, and standing upon his native soil, very imprudently turned toward the group of Tex- ans on the American side, and clapped his hand to his nose in a taunting, insulting manner. Before he had performed the gesture long enough to show the contempt he~bore them, half a dozen rifles belched fire, and sent the lead over the waters of the Rio Grande. As the smoke lifted, the Rangers gazed across and saw Lieutenant Ocho, who was a favorite office he just surmounted, and plunge down into the Bravo, to keep company with his cut-throat band. Big Foot wiped out his rifle, and reloaded with the others, as he remarked: ‘Wall, Colonel Ford, I rec’on we fotched that cuss ruther han’sum. “Twere as long a shot as I ever seen tuck, what bro’t meat. I'd ruther like ter kno’ what we’pon slung ther ball,. If it wart mine, Id giv’ ahalf a dozzan saddle-nags fur it, dog-goned ’f er won't. I rec’on it wouid be a hard matter to decide, as six of us fired, ; The y > of Cortina, throw his hands to his fore- | stageer backward over the abyss he had | ed down the river-bank, while the gre gathered together and prepared to return tow the battle-field. Many of the Mexicans sprung from thely horses, as they gained the river, and their mus» tangs were now galloping in every direction, many of them badly wounded. These last, were shot, to end their misery, The Rangers, half-dead- with fatigue, hunger, and thirst, now started on the return, over the trail of blood, and death. Big Foot came loping to the head of tia column, from his search down the river, fcr some sien of Wild Will. ‘Well, Big Foot,” said Colonel Ford, “ whag luck about your pard?”’ “ Just the wust luck I c’u’d fetch. Will has knocked his last Red, or Greaser, but he made % big die of it. It tuck a hundred foot jump, an twenty foot o’ water, on ther end on’t, tew make him wilt. Cortina set a trap fur him, an’ baited it with hisself—pertended tew meet him on thes squar’, an’ when Will went fur him, brash ther jump, he gi’n his nag the spur, an’ instid cumin’ kersmash on Cortina, Wil, who ha@ stampede speed on, glided clean thro’ ther mus keets, an’ made a flyin’ leap intew ther Brava, an’ kingdom cum’, kerflop. Wall, Will never tuck much curnfut, an’ spiled a heap o’ hos flesh, but he war wuth a dozen other men. for cle’niy’ out Reds an’ Yaller-bellies. I don’t kno’ nobody that'll miss him mor’n me, an’ I hopes he'll hav’ a smoother time on it whar he’s gone. I don’t pertend tew say whar that are, but I does say that he had it hot enuf here, whilst he stayed withus, an’ I'll miss him wuss’n if I'd lost my panther-cat.” ‘¢ Gentlemen,” said Kit Carson, “Iam pained at the tragic end of Will more than I can tel} with empty words. There was a dark and misty vail hanging as a blur upon his brain, caused by we know not what, and for ail the wildness antd strangeness of his actions, and cruelty to his beast, we know he was not responsibie. ‘“His fearful, grand leap into the arms of death was appropriate to his character, and judging from the life of the man, in days past, it was just such an end as he would have chosen. Let us hope he is better off than when his wild, untamable mind hurried his poor body through privations which would have Iilled any other man. Let us remember his faults as the results of a deranged imagination, and form our ideas from what we know he must have been before | some great and horrible event destroyed his ree. and all the same bore, an’ danged if I care, as ’ long as it fotched the yaller cutthroat.” ‘The shot was worth a thousand dollars to the State,” said Colonel Ford. ‘¢ Sure an’ if’t’s not too much botherin’ to get a hould ev the money, J’d be afhter takin’ me solem’ oath that I’m holding the gun meself, fur it was a double dose o’ powther I was afther puttin’ in the same, kno’in’ it was a long ways to shoot I had. I can ’asy prove that same, be the mate it’s smashed frum me shoulthers, fur it’s both triggers I pulled at one’t, an’ I thought Sa the bank had broke, an’ burried me up en- tirely.’ A hearty laugh ‘erected Mike’s speech as he | tore away his shirt, disclosing a black and blue bruise upon his shoulder, made by the kick of the gun. ‘*Look here, Mike,” said Kit, who had just noticed the gun Mike held in his hand, ‘‘ what have you done with the Sharpe’s rifle I loaned you, and how came you by that thing?” “Sure, Misther Kit, me darlint, don’t beangry wid me. I was bothered wid loadin’ so often, an’ I seen a Grazer havin’ this beauty ev a gun, wid two shootin’ places, an’ I whacked him over an’ tuck the same, he makin’ no object’ons as to me makin’ the thrade wid him, be the r’ason he was sp’achless foriver. Sure it’s to the devil, his master, he’s gone wid scores ev his murther- in’ blackg’ard brothers, to kape him cosy along the/ road, an’ *pon me soul, ’m thinkin ther’ll be a rumpus in the infarnal rag’ons whin they goes scamperin’ in a bunch to the’r future home, an’ the devil'll have a lively time ev it, a-fixin’ accumadations for them all.” “Tl tell you what it is, Mike, you must find that rifie, for I wouldn’t lose it on no considera- tion. Westcott, the president of the factory where it was made, gave me that gun, an’ I | But I say, Big Foot, what | think a heap of it. became of Wild Will?” “Tell yer what ’tis, Kit, you’ve just ie e lit in on ther Greasers when I did, stru’k acrass in ther bush abuy’ here, afore I stru’k the open- in’, whar I seen ther cutthroats. I war so tar- nal bisy with ther cusses, that I lost my pard. I seen Cortina, down river, cumin’ up frum whar he had no biz alone, an’ I’m goin’ tew fol- ler his trail, an’ see ef ther’s any sine o’ Will. Cur’us what's oum on him,” and Foot start- | palms with ev’ry man he meeis. son. There was one thing akout him which wil always make frontiersmen remember him witk respect—he knew not the meaning of fear, and braved a thousand deaths before he lost his life by over zeal in avenging the wrongs and crimes perpetrated upon the men and women of the border. In fact, let us remember that Wild Will lost his life in trying te kill, in fair fight the worst enemy the Lone Star State ever had —Juan Cortina, the bandit chief.” “Kit,” said Big Foot, “‘put her rigkt thar; yer shakin’ an honest hand, what dont cros¢ I like yer dog-goned ef I don’t, ’ca’se yer talk white, ar’ ef yer ever git inter a tight fix, an’ want a pard what sticks tew the de’th, then call on Bic Foot, what's got a h’art as big as his foot tew shar@ with them what’s squar’as you is.. I'm yer | frend frum this day out, an’ don’t fergit it. T | a’ mixed with heaps o’ humans in my many trails about the c’untry, an’ I kno’ ther ring of an honest tongue. I thank yer kindly, Kit, fur lettin’ fly a good word fur my wild pard. I ha’n’t known much on yer, but yer uncle, old Kit, an’ I hav’ slipped over many a hundred leagues 0’ plain an’ wood together. I’m thinkin’ you'll not disgrace yer fam’ly name.” ‘“‘T thank you kindly for your friendship, Wallace. You are king of the prairies, as your namesake of Scotland was of the highlands, and your good will I prize more than Fe ad; but, Joe, we had better ride-on and see tb Tom Clark and the wounded boys. When our pards are suffers ing we must hasten to relieve them.” “Lead on, me lord, and though the path be strewn with blood and dead, and the ghastly slain do mock me with their glassy glaring eyes, Tll follow and falter not; but haste to bind the wounds of me brother knights. By all the gods of war it was a goodly fight, and long to be re- membered by yon greasy, fleeing crew, whe now do hide themselves within the confines their own dunghills. Lead on, friend Kit, I follow.” ** Hold on, boys,” said Col. Ford; ‘‘ your com- | pany is too good to lose; we’H all lope ahead,” and turning in his saddle, the colonel waved his sombrero as a signal to the Rangers to follow, and the whole command, in a slow lope, pro- ceeded toward the battle-field where the wound ed needed their assistance. CHAPTER XIV. THE CAMP ANGEL. Tur road where the dead werd huddled fn heaps was passed; the main camp of the bandits was in plain view as the glorious southerm sun burst in splendor above the chaparrals. Hundreds of mustangs, mad with fear and wounds. were tearing and staggering here ad
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Mo, 3. Kit Carson, J r., the Crack Shot of the West. a the thorny thickets in every di- there ohn { ) zeetion, and orders were given for them to be | | herded, driven into the corral of the bandits, | and the wounded animals to be shot. | self. As the whole command were about to scatter | to collect the wounded and dead Rangers, the | galloping of horses was heard down the govern- | ment road to the east, and all eyes were in amazement toward a very strange sight for the time and place. A beautiful woman, mounted upon a magnifi- | sent black horse, that seemed proud of its bur- | don, came dashing up the road. The woman was an American—that was plain | at a glance, and a graceftil horsewoman. Behind her a few paces rode a young lad upon 4 small Mexican pony, who so much resembled the lady as to show at a glance they were reother and son. Some distance behind these two were a group of horsemen, some in United States uniform and some in Ranger costume, who appeared to he leading who were tied to the horses they rode. On bounded the black horse with its queenly vidor. Col. Ford spurred his horse forward a few bounds, as did Kit and Joe; they shaded their syes from the glare of the sun; then, with a yell | Frew up their sombreros. Col. Ford rode down through the Rangers, » outing: ‘Cheer, boys, cheer! and a welcome for Kate | faiby, coming to attend to our wounded pards, wlth doctors from Fort Brown!” Up to the east of the bandit camp spurred the | | to hang these two-up as scare-crows, as Big Foot parrals ring as they never | Rangers, en masse, and with rousing cheers, that made the cha rung before, and sounded afar over the Rio Grande to the ears of the remnant of the late owerful band of Cortina’s Guerrillas—thus the exans welcomed Kate Luby, the guardian angel | of the Rangers of the Rio Grande. Col. Ford advanced and dismounted with Kit | and Joe to receive her, and even Big Foot Wal- Jace, who had no use for women on the frontiers, | eprung lightly from his horse, and imprisoned her delicate palm in his gristly fist, with a smile ever been seen upon his stern visage before. But while Kate Luby was passing her words of kindly greeting with the Texan heroes, her eyes fell upon Tom Clark, beneath the shade of A musquit tree, where he had lain since receiy- his last wound. in. She immediately alighted from her horse, threw the reins to Kit, and motioning for her zon Fred. to come with her and attend with the baiudages and lint, she knelt by Tom’s side, and | examined the wound on his arm. Kate soon had men bringing water, and the | sition of each wounded Ranger pointed out to er. The doctors from fort Brown belonged to the U. 8. Army, and had kindly volunteered to ac- company Kate on her errand of mercy—she in- forming them, at a reasonable time after the departure of Colonel Ford, that a battle was - to follow after the meeting of the Rangers bolow the bandit-camp. The wounded were tenderly cared for, Kate insisting upon her own hands preparing band- ages and bathing wounds, throughout the trying seenes, and her words of kindness, and cheer, were received by the wounded Rangers as from augel lips. "After the arrival of the doctors, Phil Cole‘and Ben Thompson came in, looking pale and thin from the wounds received in fort Brown, at the Monte Crib fight; but the two Mexican prison- ers which they led by their lassoes, told that they had not been idle on the march. The two mers were bound to their own horses, and 6 lariats of the boys looped around the necks of the bandits’ horses, made it impossible for them to escape. ae the two Mexicans beheld the camp of their chief’ strewn with the ghastly remains of their former comrades in crime, they trembled and eowered down upon their horses’ necks, in abject * Hallo, , howde? Whar in thunder did cotch them yaller cusses? Tho’t we'd cleaned eut the hull caboodle. I’m dog-goned glad yer em, anyhow, fur we’ve got a use fur ’em, Bier danged murderin’ varmints. See here, Ben, what yer think? That hifalutin’, demorel- ized son ev a stuaw, Cortina, played a danged queer game on my pard, Wild Will, an’ run him ef’en ther high-bank intew ther drink. Now, we can just hang these cutthr’uts, each side o’ the gap, whar Will went over, ter sho’ ther ehepar’el fox that we kno’ ther game he played, an’ can double on him, altho’ it w’u’d take forty sich skum tew git even on ther game. yer say, boys? Duz my plan suit yer? I'll just matter,’ and Big Foot started after Colonel Ford to get bis ideas on the plan proposed. Colonel Ford came galloping up to where his favorite scouts and captains were congregated | | with their chief—who seems to bear a charmed at tho sanie time that Big Foot came from speaking with Phil and Ben. “T want a word with yer, colonol,” said Big ‘Them pesky cutthr’uts, them yaller Ag what ther boys has cotched, ortn’t oy. lariats two Mexican prisoners, | t 1ed | | afore you said a word. | here, as they never had any mercy on our boys. resting upon his features, unlike any which had | | anc | tion, some of the robbers still holdin | cutthroais ever congtse es together upon the | o | particular, by committing the most horrible | murders, degrading to a fate werse than death | | the sling a few plain English tew Ford about ther | What | tew live long, an’ I propose to pitch a rope round ther necks, an’ scrouge ’em of’en the bank, whar Cortina skuted Will over, unbekno’nst tew him- 'Tisn’t no use to kick up a rumpus about it. We'll let ’em glide out’en this world with a good squar’ sight at ther own country right afore ’em, an’ I call it a right smart show 0’ consider- | in’ fur ther feelin’s tew do so.” While the colonel was listening to Big Foot, Ben and Phil rode up with the prisoners. ‘*Them’s ’um,” said Big Foot, ‘‘ an’ my fingers is itching tew git a rope around ther greasy necks, an’ rid the State of sich villa’n’us lookin’ | ladrones. .I vow they’ve got tew die, anyhow.” At this moment Ben Thompson beckoned Colonel Ford up to his side, and spoke to him, | Saying: ‘**T rec’on, colonel, you’d not hesitate long as | to the disposal of these things—Tll not call them | men—but I suppose Kate Luby has not spoken | a word to you in regard to the circumstances | | connected with the capture of these miscreants; *tain’t her style.” ‘No, she don’t sting a word only in regard to our wounded boys, Ben. Spit her out.” ‘‘T ll tell you, ina few words. These two are all that’s left of eight who escaped from here. They were the down road pickets, I rec’on, and skedaddled when you boys went in on the yell and shoot. They hid themselves in the chapar- rals, and fired on us. If you take a close look at Kate Luby’s fancy hat you'll see where a bullet tore away some of the fixin’s, and another ball went through her skirts—just cleared her stir- rup-foot, and went under her horse. The rest | of the party are laid-out cold, and we propose has explained to you. ‘We have found some of our rancheros tied to trees, murdered and mutilated by the infer- | nal fiends, and others were floated down the river, after you left fort Brown, the most horri- ble sight you ever saw, and that is saying a good | deal. Colonel Ford held np his hand, saying: ‘Stop right thare, Ben; thair fate was sealed | We give no quarter | String as many on the musquits as you catch; | ay don’t desarve to live on God’s green earth; we'll sweep the chaparrals clear of them if we have to keep half the boys braiden lariats, and spinnin’ cabalos to hang them with. Git, | boys, for the river, an’ string ’em, as Big Foot | says, to show ’em we intend to carry this thing out, an’ that we hain’t forgot Will, but hurry | back, there’s work enough here for all. We | must move camp out’en this accursed opening.” | Away rode Ben, Phil, Joe, Kit and Big ata fast lope toward the river, the bound to their horses shuddering with horror as they passed along the trail of blood and death, their eyes wandering wie this way and that, in a vain endeavor to avoid the ghastly sight. But we will stop on the battile-field, and take a look at the strange sight before us. We will take ~ our position at the point | the opening connects with | where the neck o the government road. Before us, to our right, is the main camp of the banditti; the ground is strewn with dead Guerrillas and horses in every conceivable posi- grip of death, the rifle, pistol or knife. Small parties of Rangers are driving the animals— wild with the smell of blood and the presence of death—into the brush and corral. "Fhe stolen cattle have been driven out into the thickets, | snorting, bellowing, aa tearing at the bloody oof. earth with horn and h Groups of Rangers are tenderly carrying their wounded comrades, upon blankets, to an reap spot near our station of observation, where the doctors, Kate Luby and her son Fred, (who is attentive at his mother’s side, with his saddle- bags of bandages and lint) are doing all in their power for the comfort of the sufferers, who bear the pain of their wounds with the stoicism of Indian warriors. To our left strétches the government road, nearly blocked up in pene by the dead horses and bandits; and, just disappearing from view, are the Rangers with the pri§oners, taking them on their last ride to the gallows-tree. Well and nobly have the Texan Rangers main- | ush and | tained their character, as the best prairie fighters in the world. Outnumbered three to one, the blotted out from the face of the. earth strongest, boldest, and most murderous band of American continent, who have for months de- fied the United Sates, and the State of Texas in oor women who have been so cursed as to fall into their power, burning ranches, stealing | horses and cattle by thousands, and leaving a smoking trail of desolation and ruin up and down the Rio Grande. Where are they? Perhaps three-score of them, | life—are now. cowering, horror-struck -at the g& wholesale disaster and retribution that has fall- en upon them, like an avalanche, in the chapar- rals on the Mexiean side of the Bravo. Foot, | ae with the | have almost | the | 21 The others lay cold and lifeless before us, their fiendish, brutal, degraded features made more so by the hand of death. Charon has had a lively morning’s work at his ferry, over the Styx. Those who drank deep potations, and cried ‘Vive Cortina,” last night, and but a day or | two ago yelled with delight and sneered wii derision as they let out the life-blood of Texans, by slow torture, are but clods of the earth, toc disgusting and horrible for the hands of man t& come in, contact with, Into camp dashes Col. Ford; his horse spurns the ground proudly, for he rides a fresh animal. He is here and there, giving orders toeach group of his men, then approaches the point where the wounded are laying, dismounts, removes his sombrero, and salutes those before him. ““Kate Luby, doctors, gentlemen, and last, | but not least in. my heart, my brother soidiers— doubly dear to ‘me, now you are suffering for defending the honor and security of the Lone | Star State! “‘Tam happy to inform you all that I have © | found a g , pleasant camping spot down the | river, where we will move immediately. The | wagons will soon be ready to transport our poor wounded boys, and take our honored dead toa decent place for burial. The animals will be driven down later. It will be impossible to stop long here, for the hot sun will soon make the air in this opening unfit to breathe, and the buz- zards and wolves now murmur at our delay. Kate Luby, will you and yourson accompany me now to the new camp? The boys will move our wounded as tenderly as you could wish, for | we are all one loving family, bound togetker by | ties unknown to so-called _ civilized life. Adios, until we meet again, gentlemen.” Kate Luby mounted her horse, and graceful- ly saluted the doctors and wounded Rangers; faint cheers, and God bless you’s, filled her ears as she galloped away with Col. Ford, which re+ ee her a thousand times for the trouble sho iad voluntarily put upon herself in the cause of suffering humanity. The doctors superintended the removal of the wounded. There were hundreds of weolen blankets among the spoils captured; these were laid upon the wagon-bottoms, to form easy couches, One wagon was detached, and lumbered al slowly behind, with the dead Rangers—many o the pards, or bunkies, of the dead, following the remains of those who had been more than brothers to them. Silence and death reigned over the bandit camp. The cowardly cayotes peeped from the chap- arral, anticipating the horrid feast before them, and hundreds of bugzards hovered over it, turn- ing their heads te one side, as they flew, to view the prey beneath them—their numbers be- | ing increased every moment by others of their family, from all points of the compass. By means of an instinct which is incompre hensible to us, these birds seem to know where the food upon which they feed awaits them. Shoot a buffalo upon a level prairie, perfectly free from bush or tree, as far as eye can reach, and not a single object in the air visible to the eye; it will not be long, if you watch, before you will see specks afar off in the sky, which, as they approach nearer, you find are buzzards, and when they reach your position, their jour- ney ends; they -circle in the air awaiting the time when you shall leave the dead bison. en their feast commences. How did they know there was a dead animal there? | CHAPTER XV, AN UNLUCKY SHOP. | But hosts may in these wilds abound, Such as are better missed than found; To meet with Indian marauders here Were worse than loss of steed or deer. * cf * '* * + + She crouched concealed amid the brake Near to the dark and slimy lake; The maiden listened, as if again She thought to catch some distant strain. With hand up-raised, and look intent, And eye and ear attentive bent, Ard locks flung back, and lips apart, Like monument of Grecian art. Our heroine Rely, with Jack, and Clown, com tinued the journey through the hot day, follow: | ing the eventful night spent at the cab of Big Foot Wallace, and encamped in the bor tom-timber of the Rio Frio. Here they found good water and grass, and also plenty of fish. They stopped over twe nights and a day, to allow themselves and ané | mals a rest; after which, a hard day’s ride brought fhem to the Nueces, about three millet below the deserted post of fort Ewell. The camp was not on the river, but a short distance north, on the banks of one of the chain of lakes that stretch up and down the stream. In these small lakes were hundreds of alliga- tors, whose slimy heads, resting upon the sur- face, gazed in wonder, or with a strong appe- tite, at our three adventurous friends. The darting of immense alligator-gars, the | wallowing of alligators and cat-fish, kept the © ) waters of the lake in constant agitation, amd very muddy; but inlets were found upen the ¥
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B2 The Ne ~ ee —— — ee borders of the pool, where the waters were clear’ mough for use. The horses were staked, on the rank, rich which surrounded the lakes, just out from iio timber which bordered them. When Jack returned, from taxing the horses bo grass, Rely was seated, weary and.worn, on her blan‘xet and Clown was busy preparing the evening meal. Jack looked into the frying-pan and turned up his nose, saying: “Pye chawed that danged dried beef long ennf. I’m a-goin’ fur sumthin fresh. I don’t ree’on one shot’ll bring the reds down on us, an’ I seen a buck below, agoin’ fur water. Til make cold meat outen him,” and Jack took his rifle and started down the lake, through the timber, followed by the voice of Clown, recom- mending extreme caution. Jack proceeded down the shore of the lake, stepping upon and over the smoldering trunks of trees, and through the underbrush, for half a mile, when his eyes caught sight of the buck he was in search of, standing upon the edge of the like, drinking. Cocking his rifle, and stealthily making his way over the difficulties in his path, sud keeping his eyes on the game before him, Jick went towasd the deer. While thus, step by step, approaching the puck that still idly lapped the water, what seamed to Jack to be a log of deadwood was reached, and as he’ had in the same manner madé his way over others in his path, he stepped upen it, with one foot. His weight had just been relioved from the foot which was on the ground, his whole weight resting wpon the stipposed log, when the latter shot out from under bim in an instant. Jack had his rifle ready to raise when he eleared the last obstruction in the path, his finger in the trigger-guard; as he lost his foot- ing his finger unconsciously pressed the trigger and the gun exploded. Jack dropped the rifle as if it had been a red- hot iron and sprung into the branches of a tree, knowing not what danger threatened him. But, Jack was forced to blush with shame as be saw a huce alligator plunge into tho lake, as ightened as badly as himself. “Dog-one ther cuss! He giv’ a curi’s chill tew my blood, an’ that ornery rifle giv’ me anuther. Didn't kno’ she was cocked, sculped if | did. Rec’on I'm gittin’ mixed in my upper story. Whar’s ther deer? Ther cuss must ’a’ got a scare, tew.” Jack breathed heavily, after tho hasty climb, | smart, and still sab in his perch, and as his thoughts | turned from the rifle upon the ground to the fuck, he glanced toward the spot where tho hnimal had stood; to his great surprise the buck tay there kicking in the agonies of death, upon the shore, Jack’s eyes opened to twice their usual size, and he commenced to think and scratch his head. He eventually concluded that it was next to impossible for his rifle, when it went off accidentally, to have taken a course toward the buck, for it was pointed upward at an angie of forty-five degrees. Jack glanced at his position where the alligator had lain asleep, and brought back in his mind about the way things stood when he lost his equilibrium, and where the muzzle of his rifle was pointed. Iol- lowing up the imaginary course of the ball, he taw not far from where his calculations ended the long furrow of the bullet, where it had torn up the bark on a tree, high up from the ground. pon Jack’s discovery of this proof of his gun hot having bean the cause of the death of the sage he again broke out, in soliloquy : de’th, but, seein’ ther allugater git up an’ git, one way, an’ me stampedin’ anuther, might ’a’ made ther cuss ‘laff’ hisself tew de’th,” and a low chuckle of mirth convulsed Jack’s frame for a moment. Jack pulled out his tobacco, and was about to take a chew before descending from the tree to examine the buck, when he received a sudden York Library. Jack knew that the least show of surprise, | fear, or weakness, would go against him, and all the bravo and unconcern he could muster would be in his favor; and with thejappearance of as much indifference as if he had been in the same situation a thousand times, and come out all right, be addressed the chief. ‘‘Howde, Mister Vermilion? Yer take a danged ruff way of makin’ my ’quaintance, and tuck it when I warn’t expectin’ yer. Just loosen these buckstrings frum my paws. I want my terbaccy; war just a-goin’ tew take a chaw when yer tryed tew bu*t my he’d an’ | knocked it flyin’.” At the mention of tobacco the chief’s eyes brightened, and following Jack’s gaze along the foot of the tree, from which he had so suddenly been knocked, the Indian on his hands and knees commenced a search for the weed he craved perhaps more than Jack himself. He soon found the long plug of the coveted weed, eagerly tore off a huge cud with his teeth, and commenced chewing the same with evident satisfaction. Seating himself beside Jack once more he held the tobacco near to his captive’s mouth and when Jack opened his jawsfor the expected chew the chief gave him a rough blow across the face, saying: “Whar your chief, Great Big Foot? white sqy w? Whar crooked fingers? Kill many my braves on San Miguel; must have scalps! Tell Creeping Panther, quick! Me find um.” ‘Yer talk danged good. English, fur a Cur- manch, Rec’on yer must ’a’ mixed with ther Washtaw Resarves; sh’u’en’t wunder. As tew Big Foot, you look sharp, or he'll git his cat ar- ter yer, what just tore yer best warriers inter shue-strings. Big Foot have gota panther what'll knock spots off’en you, an’ make yer creep right I rec’on. As tew the others yer speak of, if yer want ’em, why, find ’em, fur if -yer slash me inter hash, an’ fry me, I ain’t agoin’ tew sling a word within a hundred miles on ’em.” At the mention of Big Foot’s panther the In- dian gave a shudder, which, with the previous | way, when it tastes best. hension ran through him, and he noticed thas Rely started nervously; but with a cheering voice he addressed her: ‘*Come, Rely, rouse up and take some supper, Ve'll not wait for Jack without you hanker for a venison steak. We'll have our coffee, any- I ha’n’t thrown off on dried beef myseif; I like it as. s: wish Jack had stopped here. It wil! : much trouble if be brings m a buck; he’ti want to cook up a bag-full to take along to-morrow, an’ we ought to be asleep.” “T do wish he had not gone for the deex Clown, for I feel very nervous to-night. I+ it so dark and gloomy under these trees; the wates in the lake is so sluggish and biack, and tiose horrid, slimy alligators, plunging about, alJ seem to cast a shadow over my thoughts, aud I have a gedaan sv of coming danger, al- | though I pray God that no more terrors may Whar | words of the chief, showed plainly to Jack that | the Indian who had charge of the horses at the time of the ficht at the cabin of Wallace, and who afterward escaped, had joined the party that held Jack prisoner. They must be few in numbers, and also unaware of the strength of the arty Jack was with, or they would immediate- y have followed Jack’s back trail to the samp, and captured Rely and Clown. They evidently thought that Big Foot was | with Jack, and had no idea of any whites being in the vicinity until they had discovered him crawling for the deer at the same time one of their party was about to shoot the buck. Jack was laboring. under great concern of mind in regard to Clown and Rely, as they had surely heard the report of his rifle, and would soon expect him back tocamp. What if Clown should venture down the lake in search of him? What if he should give a recall yell? result in their death or capture. most beside himself, thinking of the conse- | quences of such a movement on Clown’s part. never he’rd ev a huck gittin’ skeered tew | | and motioned them toward him. and stunning blow upon the back of his head, | which tumbled him dhe earth. A half-dozen Indians sprung from the under- brush, and bound him hand and foot. A tall, finely-formed chief stalked proudly from the timber into the midst of his warriors, gave a glance at the thongs which bound the captive, issued a low order in the Camanche tongue to one of his braves, who departed down the shore, but soon returned with an old corn- rom the tree, senseless to sack, which he was about todraw over the head | of Jack, when a gesture from the chief vented him. With a motion toward the buck he dismissed them all, and they proceeded to dress the animal. The long shaft of an arrow projecting from the side of the deer pee dead / showed plainly that poor Jack had not arrived | pt the correct conclusion in regard to the buck’s death. It would not be much of a riddie to him | when’ he recovered his senses end found himself prisoner, - Tho chief seated himself by the side of the and poured water upon his captive’s head, Jack heavily; at length his eyes es and fell uw the Indian before him, who was also at Jack with a glance af litter hatred, * formof Jack, loosened a gourd from his belt, | He cared not for himself; he was willing to run his chances—to undergo anything if Rely only escaped and got through safe to her brother. : The sun disappeared; the twilight deepened fast amid the timber, and the chief still sat chewing tobacco, with eyes and ears openiand It would | Jack was al- | aoe beset our path.” They both partook of the simple prairic meaf in silence, every moment expecting to see the form of Jack burst through the brush. When they had finished, Glown stepped out, half-wa: between the horses and the camp-fire, and li ened intently for some time, but nothing could he hear of Jack’s returning footsteps. He stole silent—his mind fillee with forebod- ings of danger—back to Rely, who had again laid her exhausted form upon the blankets. “See here, Rely, thar’s no use in makin’ any bones of it; thar’s sumthin’ wrong with Jack, sure. ‘“He wouldn’t ’a’ stopped only long enuff to slash off a hind quarter of that buck, an’ he warn’t a half mile frum here when he fired. He’s had time to’a’ got here long ago, an’ either the Reds has got him, or he’s shot hissel?, an’ the last trick he ain’t likely to do. We must think sharp an’ quick, an’ git frum here, If the Reds hav’ got him, an’ tha’d ’a’ be’n a stron party, tha’d ’a’ be’n here afore this. Thay’ cum, anyway, bet yer life. See here, Rely, what kind 0’ medicines yer got to take to yer brother? I he’rd yer speak about havin’ sum in yer saddle-bags. Hav’ yer got any I'ud’num?” ‘Yes, Clown, I have—I think a four-cunce vial; but, what do you want of it? You are not. a-going to poison yourself, and leave me here alone to cope with the dangers which sur- round us? Do you really think Jack is ca tured? God protect me from the Red flendx Let us fly, Clown, from this dreadful spot. I ubhorred this place from the first time my eyed beheld it.” Clown now came up to where Rely reelined. As she ceased speaking, holding the bottle of whisky in his hand, he said: ** Now, Rely, to make things sure, if we aré cotched by the Reds, why, we will doctor this whisky, fur they'll be sure to go for it the fust thing, when they rummage around our camp tricks.” ‘** What an idea!” said Rely, as she passed the vial to Clown, who poured the contents into the whisky, and as it did not quite fill the bottle, he a some water, and replaced it in his saddle- gs. ‘**Now, Rely, please to get your tricks to- I'll go fur the horses. er can bet yer ife Jack is bagged, an’ we will be if we don’t | git frum here,”’ on the alert, watching for any movement from | up the lake. Finally he turned to his followers A few words in a low voice, in his native lingo, and Jack | was securely bound to the same tree he had been knocked from, and left there—the last salutation of the chief being to squirt a stream of tobacco saliva directly into Jack’s face. ‘*By the blood of Crockett Vll pay yer fur that, if £ hav’ ter foller yer tew ther Rockies, yer sneakin’, cowardly, lousy cuss ev a Ca- manche! Dang my eyesif I ain’t ina tight-fit an’ they'll git Rely now. Cuss the idea what fotched me fur that buck. ’a’ tasted fresh meat ag’in.” But, we will leave Jack, bound to the tree, suf- fering great agonies of mind in regard to his fellow-travelers, and in body, from the tortur- ing cords about his wrists and ankles. The Indians remove the careass of the deer a few steps down the lake to their camp, and | be distinguished. Clown immediately started for the animals, but soon returned to Rely, and grasped her by the arm, whispering hoarsely in her ears: “ The horses are gone, and we are lost.” Clown hurried Rely’s trembling form into a dense thicket of underbrush, cautioned her te silence, and, telling her to be brave, that he would soon return, he slowly glided along the ground, made his way to the opposite of the camp, then boldty entered it. The fire had died down, so that a human form could hardl Clown rolled the blankets of | the party about logs of deadwood; and placed | them around the fire to resemble sleeping forms; are preparing to make an advance up in the di- | rection from which Jack had come, to make a | reconnoissance of the camp of the whites. Did they know that but two persons occupied the camp up the lake, they would not have look- there was but a chance, and that was all, that the Indians were not already observing him; | but, esa | they were not; he could not say Vd better néver | a that they had returned from removing the horses, or whether they had left a spy behind to watch the camp. When Clown had fixed things to suit him, he | threw a large amount of wood upon the embers, ; and then, fore a blaze lit up the comp, he took his rifle and crawled away toward the hiding-place of Rely, but, before he bad gone twenty paces, three warriors sprung upon hi hore him to the earth, wrenching his rifle or six shooters from him, and in an instant he wag | bound secyrely, hand and foot; ed upon the undertaking so seriously ; but; think- | ing that Big Foot, the dreaded giant, was with the party, and they numbering but eight warriors, they knew they must proceed with caution, for, as Jack had before this time been missed, and so gifted a scout as Big Foot would have cor- rectly inferred the cause of his absence, they would be expected. Clown had just pulled the coffee-pot from off the coals to settle, when the ri ot of Jack broke on the air, and echoed apt the tim- ber. In spite of himself a cold c of appre- The camp-fire now burst into a blaze, throw- ing a brilliant light around, and as his capters bore him to a tree at tho camp-fire, other In- dians were kicking the blankets about. The chief pointed significantly at the three saddles, saying: “The Big Foot chief and his cat stay at hie lodge. Fiad the white wl” own was bound to a tree near the fire, aud the Indians scattered to hunt for Rely. When Clown left Rely hidden in the bushes, she lost all hope, and kneeling, she prayed fer- vently to God to preserve herself and friends from the great troubles that seemed thickening
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No. 3. around them, and to lead them safely to her sick brother, and that they both might again be permitted to see the face of their dear mother. As she finished her orisons, and her thoughts kad been overpowered suddenly arid unexpect- edly or he would have fired his rifle. She cowered down to the earth, and wept bit- | ter tears to think that perhaps she had been the direct means of bringing two brave, noble men toa horrible death. A slashing and crashing of branches toward the lake below her struck her ears; a heavy body seemed dragging along the earth toward her; it was crawling up the bank; a musky, nausea- ting smell filled the air; the heavy body eame nearer and nearer, the smell sickened her, and the consciousness of an unlooked-for danger, in some unknown and horrible form, stagnated her blood. It must be, it was, one of the large alligators she had seen in thie Jake! Oh, horror of horrors! The dreadful, disgusting monster would drag her into the dark depths of the lake, in his jaws, | and none would ever know the horrible death she had died. ed devoid of all motion. She heard, oh, how distinctly! the claws of the alligator tear into the bank as the monster exerted itself to gain a hold, and the ponderous form move nearer and nearer. Rely closed her eyes, and prayed in whispers for deliverance from this most dreadful death which now threatened her. The bushes parted, and were pressed down to the earth by the great weight of the amphibious monster; its loathsome breath fanned her cheek, d then the cold, slimy nose suddenly struck er hand. This broke the spell which bound her. She sprung, with one wild, piercing shriek, from the bushes, and fell into the arms of an Indian brave, but she knew it not, for her senses kindly left her at the moment, and went out into the air with that agonizing scream of horror, The long, tedious rides to which she was not | uccustomed, constant watchfulness, the ride for | life from the Indians, the bloody scenes at the eabin of Big Foot, would have worn out even a man, unused to such a life. The shri¢k of Rely pierced not only the heart | ef Clown, but of poor Jack, afar off, bound to the tree, and caused him to redouble his exer- tions to free himself from the galling thongs. Rely was brought into camp, a dash of cold | water thrown into her face, which revived her, and showed, too plainly to the suffering maiden, ber horrible surroundings. She was bound by the waist securely to a tree, next to Clown, and but a few feet from him. From the knowledge of her inability to escape, | they left her hands free. She returned Clown’s look of sorrow and deep pity, with one of utter hopelessness and despair. reeping Panther stood before her with folded arms, an air of ee majesty and command wpon his features, anc and limb. ‘* When did the white squaws turn warriors? Are the pale-faces so weak that they put the women on the war-path? ae birds told him; she be his squaw, build his fire, cook his meat, away beyond the big, dry plain. with tales of the Rose of the Alamo; his braves gee her at fort Mason; the Great Spirit has led her into the arms of Creeping Panther, and his | | and he was free. Rely, seeing that her position was one of great | danger—in fact no possibility of release present- | itself to her mind, became desperate; her | heart grows big with gladness.” = nature seemed to undergo a change, as whe drew back her arm and struck the chief a | violent blow in the face. Creeping Panther swerved but slightly from | the force of the blow, and a smile hovered over his repulsively painted face. “ A leaf has blown from the Rose and brushed the face of Creeping Panther; he loves the | breeze that sant it.” ‘Keep your love-talk for the squaws of your tribe. I want neither your words nor presence; teave me; I have that tothink of which tearsmy | Have you no compassion upon a woman | who journeys to care fora sick brother, that | heart. must detain and bind her and her i to trees, like dogs? If you are such a mighty warrior, release us, and, outnumbering gs ag you do, we will blot you from the earth forever, murderers and torturers of. innocent women and age joathsome than jake below.” Rely and Creeping Panther, the latter’s atten- ion was drawn by deep grunts of satisfaction from his warriors, who discovered the bot- the of whisky in the saddle-bags of Clown. ip an instant his eyes brigh ; he had evi- | buckled round him. | these loathsome things. in the very poise of form | | He gave a superhuman effort, a linge forward; | the cords binding his hands snapped asunder, Creeping Panther is | BaPPy i the Rose of the Alamo is his captive; You are more vile and | e slimy alligator of the dark | Kit Carson, J r., the Crack Shot of the West. : dently as much hankering after spirits as he had shown for tobacco, and he sprung among | them, took. the bottle, and applied the same to his nostrils. The inspection satisfied him, for he imme- diately took a long draught of the liquor, and passed it to the next brave, and so it went around the circle, as they were seated among the saddles and camp tricks. ‘* Now, what yer thinks o’ l’ud’num, Rely?’ whispered Clown. ‘‘I ain’t so much of a bam- booslin’ fool as yer tuck me fur, am I?” ““Oh, heaven be praised, Clown! God ever bless you! Who would have thought of sucha plot at such a time? We may get free yet, if they do not get maddened by the drink and butcher us.” ** Tha’ can’t do it; thar’s tso much l’ud’num; itll knock the sculps right of ’en the’r heads, see ef it don’t! I wish tew thunder I knowed what had becum of Jack. Yer see, they, tuck him unawares or he w’u'd ’a’ gi’n ’em fits with his | I see the Creepin’ Panther has got ’em If Big Foot’s panther went fur him, I reckon he’d do sum dog-goned tall creepin’, sure and sartin.” shuters. But to return to poor Jack, lashed to the tree, | in the darkness of the night, the damp air, filled | with the loathsome scent of alligators that were She tried to creep away, but her limbs seem- | having a regular jubilee and sqtfbble not far from him. The pain from the buckstring-cords cutting into his flesh, and the knowledge that his friends | were in great danger, all combined to make | Jack the most miserable of men. The knowledge that he could not be of. any assistance to Rely and Clown in the hour of their great danger, was the worst of Jack’s troubles; he could bear everything with forti- tude except that. Jack twisted and worked himself this way and that way in the endeavor to release himself from the thongs which bound his hands to the tree; he was rather fleshy, and the cords caused a swelling of the limbs, which was extremel painful. He eventually writhed about to such an extent that, with the help of the heavy dew, | and dampness from the lake, he stcceeded in slackening the buckstring considerably which bound his hands. Jack was congratulating himself at even this slight change in his favor, when, to his horror, | he heard several large alligators slash up out of | the lake and come lumbering toward him. This, then, was the death the Indians had in- | tended he should die—to be torn in pieces by No, it could not be, for they would not give up such a chance for torturing a prisoner; it | every brave, or | was because they needed thought they did, to capture the camp above. | The crashing of the huge reptiles, the snapping | Jerous jaws, came nearer to poor | L | camp to get beyond the ghastly sight. of the pon Jack. The beads of agony-sweat stood thick upon | his forehead, and he had given up all hopes of an extended existence in this world when the | piercing shriek of Rely rung through the woods | as she sprung from the cold jaws of the alli- gator. Every sinew in Jack’s frame became steei. and he fell forward, causing the ankle lashings to tear his flesh terribly; but, he felt it not; he half raised himself; his hands came in contact | | with pieces of petrified wood as hard as iron; he seized a piece in each hand, raised up and ; | hurled them with great force at the alligators ‘Creeping Panther’s ears have been tickled | not twenty feet away. He took another piece, and beat at the cords which bound his ankles; | he outa them where they encircled the | trunk of the tree, until they were bruised apart | He staggered to the lake, driving the cowardly alligators.before him. He threw water with his hands into his parched mouth, on his wounded ankles and wrists, and bathed his aching head, then staggered wildly eeppgs the wood toward the camp. e assist his friends, if they were still alive. On, on, as fast as his cramped limbs would | take him, until the firelight of the camp shone | | upon you. where the horses had been left; he knew that | through the trees. He took his course toward a point near this commanded a view of the camp. through the trees showe gave him hope—Clown and Rely alive, but bound to trees, Jack scouted up toward them to see how he | could be of assistance; he saw the Indians were drinking, but knew that there was not whisky enough to get two of them drunk. ine satisfied looks of Rely and Clown puzzled im. He crawled nearer, keeping the trunk of a | | tree with bushes around it, between himself At this stage of the controversy between and camp. There leaned the rifles of the party; he must secure them. What did the Indians mean by having no guard out? Hecould not understand why things were so loose. Jack suceeed ed in getting the rifles, and a knife hanging to one of them, Not even ———— | danger and | few days, she thought that she cou | brave friends who accompanied ad no arms to defend himself with, or | | the ss: | Clown or Rely had noticed him, so intent were they watching the Indians. Jack made his way, noiselessly, on through the bushes, behind the trees to which Rely and Clown .were bound; he stood close behind Clown and laid bis warm hand on his pard’s, whispering: ‘* Keep still; show no sign, an’ be re’dy fur biz.” Clown whispered to Rely in a significant manner, “Jack is hunk; don’t be narvous; clear treil ahead!” ** Clown’s cords parted above, and below; the cold barrel of his rifle was left in his paim, but he remained in the same posttion. Rely was soon freed of her thongs, and 8 working of fingers and a changing of weizht, from one limb to another, soon brought back circulation, clogged by the cords. ' The whisky and laudanum had a strange ef- fect upon the Indians. There had heen but one good stiff horn to each, but, still they sat there, feeling no inclination to rise from the sitting | posture which they had occupied since the chief had joined them. They seemed to realize that something was wrong, and gazed at each other in blank dis- may. All at once a feeling seemed to come over them that they must dosomething, andina very awkward manner, they scrambled t their feet, and stood in a wavering way, locking at their captives. They seemed to realize that the whites were the cause of, they knew not what, but they had a suspicion that some horrible death awaited them, which they would be un- able to combat against; their hands went trem- blingly to the knives in their belts; murder | glared plainly from their eyes. bie I y : It was evident that Creeping Panther had | an idea of saving the life of Rely from the vengeance of his braves, for he made a weak bound toward her, knife in hand, and half turned to hurl them back, as the report of Jack’s rifle broke on the night air, and the chief fell a corpse, in his tracks. ‘In an instant after, the rifles of Rely aud Clown also sent their messengers of death. Jack bounded to the side of the dead chief, regained his revolvers, and, right and left, sent the balls into the bewildered | Indians, until all lay weltering in gore, The hands of our three wandering friends clasped over the dead, and their uncovered heads turned reverently toward heaven, as tely, in sweet, soft tones, muttered her prnyer: “We thank thee, ob God, for answering the prayers of a pace, weak mortal, surrounded by jlood, and delivering us from the merciless savages Who had a thousand deaths in store for us.” ‘“‘ Amen!” rung in hoarse accents from Clown and Jack. The Indians were dragged down to the shore of the lake, Rely retiring to the far side ot the Her thoughts flew alternately to her mother in San Antonio, and her brother on the Rio Grande. She knew it would kill her mother to know she was braving somany and horrible dangers; anc she knew her brother would rather die | than have her encounter them, for his sake; , but she had gone too far, now, to turn back; she hoped the dangers were passed, and was thankful, oh, so thankful, thatshe had escaped death or captivity, for both had stared her in the face, E As she looked back at the dangers of the last not bear them over again and live, so great¥y had her mind been tortured by mn | for the two 1er, she know- ing the misery that would follow the death of either. Rely was called back to camp, by Jack, who, although suffering greatly, seemed quite cheer- ful. “Come, Rely; we’ve got the varmints outen yer sight, an’ now 1 re’con we'll see to things. Have yer got any kind o’ salve, about yer med- | cine, to rub on whar the reds tied me so tarnal tight? My meat’s torn up, sum consider’ble.” “*Oh, yes, Jack; and lam so happy I can de something for you, for my conscience. troubles me for all the trials and dangers I have brough$ “Oh, shucks, now, Rely; I told yer often, that kind o’ talk ware su’table to sling at them | what don’t care enuff fur their friends to sarve He gained the open spot; a narrow cut | him a sight that | ’em. J want no thanks fur what | duz fur pure friendship’s sake, an’ no pay, either, without, may be, a pleasant word, or smile, which you always hav’ for us. Them goes further with me an’ Clown than do’bloons. Ha, Clown, ain’t that so?’ “Yer just right there, Jack. Why, Rely, it duz me more good to sarcumvent them red- ainted sculpers than anything else I knows on. f it warn’t fur bein’ so pesky afeard they'd gt off with you, I wouldn’t mind such a s every day; but I can just tell yer both we're oD ttest place thar is in ther State. I he’'rd them Reds blowin’ in thar lingo, and I under- stand sum; I ought tew, I'v’ doin’s enuff with ‘om. Ther’s bin a big war-party fifty miles up the river, they split up ther, and cum down in different waile Tntenaia’ tow ox ter
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24 oo 5 ner Ses Ser SETS “Se The New York Library. —— lie gether ag’in, with plunder an’ prisoners. Now er hay’ run ag’in two squads of them; the others ain't fur off; two have gone toward crowd of twenty-five warriors to meet ’em right kere on-this lake; so the quicker we git up an’ drist onten this the better, an’ tew tew one we tin ag’in’ sum of them what’s gone for Mexican y/ under.” “Great Father protect us! What shail we do? If we return toward San Antonio would we be liable to meet any of these fiends, Clown?” inquired Rely. ‘Wall, yes; rec’on we'd stand as poor a show either way, but we’ve got good mustangs—that is, when we find ’em, an’ that must be soon—an’ can run for it. We've got to be more keerful, and not be so danged particular about eatin’ siried-beef. Jack, do yer hear?” Mexico, an’ these Reds here were waitin’ fur a | “Thinks I duz; I ain’t deff yet, but I’m as | ravenous fur grub that dried-beef or anything’ | Ase, | | graded sons of a semi-monthly, revolutionized, | good now, you bet. Thank yer, Rely so : ; you’v’ done my ankles an’ wrists up so neat an’ eoft, I can’t feel much pain; Pll only take a bite, | ng tew keep my stum-jacket frum forgitin’ its ia, an’ we'll go fur the nags; the Reds didn’t | tike ’em fur, an’ ther camp are just below whar tha tied me up fur alligator bait. Rec’on I'd ’a’ been chawed up finer nor Ed. Braiden’s hash | efore this if you hadn’t gi’n that yell, Rely. I thought the Reds ware torturin’ yer, an’ bu’st tay harness right thar, took ther bit atween my feeth, an’ cum pony-express speed.” “Tm dog-goned glad,” said Clown, ‘‘ that averythin ynarked afore, we've got to h’ist ourselves outen this a flyin’. Rely, you don’t care tew stop here alone, I rec’on, so let’s all go fur the nags; they can’t be fur from whar we left em. Je tnust change our course, an’ put up the river a right smart distance, to get above the Rio ftrande trail, so as not tew meet any of the Reds comin’ in frum that-a-way.” Rely and Clown proceeded te look for the as cum out so squar’, but, as l re- | | yer edicated? | tempt for the Mexicans in general, and the ban- | dits of Cortina in particular.” horses, Jack following with his hands full of | dried-beef and corn-pone, and his teeth doing ex- tra duty. About fifty feet from where the horses had been left they were found, where the Indians had removed them, and glad were our friends to once more mount their -well-tried prairie friends that had served them so faithfully. Every thing belonging to them was collected by building a bright fire, and they started on in the darkness up the Nueces river, to find a age secure from observation, and away from ne trail, so they could take the Ne and rest so much needed by them after the hardship and excitement they had passed, EE CHAPTER XVI. THE NEW TRAIL. When tales are told of blood and fear, That boys and women shrink to hear, From point to point I frankly tell The deed of death as it befell. ¥ * * * * * + By heaven his horse's footstool shakes! Beneath their tott'ring bulk it bends— It sways—it loosens—it descends! And downward holds its headlong way, Crashing and throwing up the spray, Loud thunders shake the echoing dell! Fellit alone? Aloneit fell, Just on the very verge of fate, The ** Daring’* Texan s falling weight; He trusted to his mustang's bounds, And on firm bank unharmed he stands! Ir required but a moment to adjust the lariats sround the necks of the two bandits, who had attempted the assassination of Kate Luby when she was proceeding up the river on her errand of mercy. The ends of the lariats were drawn over the limbs of the musquit trees, which projected over the bank, and beneath which were the rolling waters of the river, one hundred feet below. Kit Carson addressed them in Spanish, telling them they had five minutes to prepare them- selves for the other world, and take a farewell wok at their country over the water. The wretched, degraded men, who _ hesitated at no crime, however horrible, now frembled, muttered their cpraserss and then stood gazing over the Rio Grande, upon the shores which Wey were destined never more to tread. Seeing no mercy in the looks of their captors, ti\sy suddenly assumed a bravado, which the g uivering of their lips gave the lie to, and yelled: Vive Cortina!” ‘‘ Carracas Americanas!” ‘‘ Car- micas GRINGOES!” Tho last word was uttered with a genuine hatred and look of contempt which, in spite of themselves, the Rangers could not help but admire, especially when considered chief, even to the death. dite. ““Remember the whirlpool at fort Brown, boys!” said Ben Thompson. As “Fighting Ben” mentioned this incident, which he had described to them previously, the lariats again tightened, and the bandits were driwn to the verge of the awful abyss, their eyes bulging ont in terror. | em out. ) ‘“Remember our oath over the murdered child, on the Resaca dé la Paima,” said Kit. No sooner had the words left his lips than the lariats were suddenly jerked, and the two ban- dits swung out, dangling and tw isting, over the waters of their Rio Bravo, one upon each sido of the opening torn by Wild Will and his horse, as they dashed through and down to destruction. The lariats’ ends were made fast to the trunks of the trees, and the cutthroats were left, sway- ing in plain view of their countrymen, from the | opposite shore. ‘‘ Hang there! vile varlets!” said Reckless Joe, | ‘until the damps and dews and wandcring winds shall rot and twist the cords which now | sustain and hold you up, as an example to those | who dare invade our State! ‘‘ Hang, I say, and idly dangle, high above the mad waters, which shall soon be contamin- | ated with thy loathsome carcasses! “Hang higher than Haman, thou base, de- | conglomerated, amalgamated, ‘bastard republic! ** Hang!” “Hold! Enough, Joe! s Es « o ) vs: . ry ing. Give ’em a rest,” interrupted Ben Thomp- son. Big Foot heaved a heavy sigh as he remarked: ‘“* Yes, Ben, they’ve danced their last fandang,} | on nothin’, without ary music; they’ve cut the’r last throat, stu’k the’r last man in ther back, an’ | burt the’r last ranch. V’m dog-goned sorry we | hav‘n’t more on’em, fur them two locks lon’sum ; ther’s room enuf fur more on ’em all along ther | river, an’ we'd ought’er stretch ’em clean down tew fort Brown. Joe, whar in thunder ware Yer sling ther dang’est, biggest words I ever knowed any one else tew let loose. Can yer make any thing out’en Joe’s lingo, | Kit?” ** Oh, yes; Joe was only expressing his con- They’ve done kick- | **T ree’oned so, by ther way he looked an’ acted. Joe, I’ll be dog-goned if I won’t give yer | ther best saddle-nag I’ve got on my ranch, if you'll sot down sum day an’ l’arn me them danged long words, so when I’m b’ilin’ mad, an’ can’t find no Greaser tew shoot, I can sling ’em acrost ther Bravo at’em. Is’pect, tho’, Pll hav’ tew ile my jaws right smartly afore I can spit What yer thinkin’ on, Kit? ’Pears like yer see a petticoat over thar, by ther way | yer gaze?” “T see no sign of ene female presence; my thoughts run in other channels. [’m thinking | of how we have cleaned out the ‘ Ciaparra Fox’ to-day, and what benefit it will be to Texas. Cortina is far from being whipped. | This band of cutthroats is broken up, but a thousand more of his men stand ready to serve him at any time against the hated Gringoes. In | less than a month, mark my words, Cortina will again disgrace the soil of Texas by his presence. e@ is here, there, and everywhere; his spies | will keep him informed as to our movements, and he will dash in when and where he is least expected. ‘This has been a disastrous fight to him, but | it takes no capital or commissary to start an | army such as his command is composed of. ‘The Rangers from the north-west have but | recently returned from long and weary trails, which took them to the head-waters of the Can- adian river. In three months the Camanches, Apaches, Kioways, Kickapoos, and who knows om ae other red-devils, will again be at their bloody work. ‘The prairies and chaparrals of Texas have been bathed in gore, and the end is not yet; and none can say when it will be. Certainly not | until the United States government cuts off six thousand miles of red-tape, which the secretary of war persists in hauling, hand over hand, back and forth, while the country is being devastated by hordes of Mexican outlaws, and war-parties ot blood-thirsty Indians—not until the said sec- retary orders a full company of cavalry to take the place of the corporal’s guard of infantry, in nearly every frontier fort.” . Big Foot; ‘‘ we can fight our own battles, as this day stands proof. Thar hain’t been as many ealierheltiog clawed grass afore, in one day, | since old’ Taylor giv’ ’em chain shot out’en his with the true loyalty they manifested for their’! The lariats slackened, as if the Rangers hesi- | tated in their determination to execute the ban- | | | | big guns, an’ | “ Charley May mowed his way Frum Palo Alto tew Monteray, An’ our Jack Hays did cut an’ blaze Clean thrutew ther City of ther Montezum-aazz.”’ ‘Hear! hear!’ Reckless Joe shouted. ‘* By all that’s truthful in Denmark, Big Foot, thou art a poet. ‘“ Why hast thou wasted talents, on the desert air? Why don’t yer go it? “Sling out yer slang what smacks of plains and woods; ‘(That's just ther style, now, what takes with | city bloods: * Let ’em Imow you know in yer own lingo, “That. yer can blow, right smart, with the | help of Joe— | ‘* That is, when I learn you them high-fa-h- | tin, rambunctious, ramifications of exalted En- | | | } “To the devil with Uncle Samuel,” growled glish.” The laugh that followed Joe’s rhyming at- | the executed bandits. tempts was suddenly brought to a stop by the | clatter of hoofs, up the river, and an exclama tion of surprise from Fighting Ben. “ May I never see a square deal again, if that isn’t my brother, Billie!” All of tho Rangers, who were just ready to mount and rejoin the main command, now turned their eyes and attention up the stream toward the fast-approaching horseman, whom all recognized as Daring Bill, the brother ef Fighting Ben.” Dashing down toward them, at times causing his horse to bound so near the bank of the river that, as tho hoofs of the animal spurned the turf, for the néxt spring, the earth upon which the horse stood an instant before would be de- tached and fa!l with a great splash down inta the stream—the bank above projecting over the water-line below. : Riding with as wild, careless, and graceful a manner as a Camanche brave, this young man, showing, by his dare-devil style, by his near | approach to the edge of the dangerous bank, | by the yell that burst from his lips as he saw the Rangers, a perfect type of the young Texan, | who fears. nothing, and glories in bravin danger, no matter of what form or from wha quarter, Daring Bill was fair, and pretty as a young girl, with rosy cheeks, long, black hair, sharp, piercing eyes, that would be sure to detect danger in time to act, Billy Thompson was the dandy Ranger of the Rio Grande. He was always dressed in such nobby style, and no amount of scouting could set him back any, or prevent his looking neat and tidy. He was just as eager for a fight as his brother Ben, and you often hear vt o£ the fighting Thompsons, no matter in what por tion of the State of Texas you may be travel ing. A costly golden-snake for a band, sat jauntil well-shaped head; a fancy embroidered jackek of keakin and leggings of the same, to match, littering with the buttons which ran thickly Bowen the seams, amid the long fringes; top- boots, silver spurs, and red silk sash completed his make-up in the way of clothing; while the ivory butts of two large-sized Colt’s revolvers projected from the ornamental scabbards, and a huge bowie-knife was stuck in the left side of his belt. A Sharpe’s carbine hung from his saddle-horn, and the bridle and saddle of his horse were one mass of exquisite stamped leather, and silver filagree-work. The horse seeraed created for the ridema beautiful mustang, black as midnight, and graceful as a prairie fawn. Take them, rider and horse together, they were as fine a sight as one would wish to see, as they came dashing down the banks of the Rio Grande, and into the midst of our Ranger friends. Bill Thompson’s hands were extended, right and left, to ait, as he said: ‘*Howde, pards?. Is the big game over? Am I too late to take a hand? © Howde, Ben? Shake, old boy !” “Yer a little late, fur this deal, Bill; thar are the last keerds what was slung out,” said Big Foot, pointing toward the swaying forms P| Yer don’t of’en get # chance ter bet on a dead thing, Bill, an’ I giv’ rerone now. I'll plank a slug that them lariat lLhold ’em fur a week, afore they ware off an‘ drop ’em in ther drink—barrin’ out a fust-claag norther.” : “Take the bet! Hold stakes, Joe. Some of us will manage to scout, this way about that time. Have you made a clean sweep of their camp, boys?” “Thar ain’t enuff left, Bill, tew start a one hoss-blanket game; but, what’s the news up. river?’ demanded Big Foot. The Rangers were all mounted, surroundin Daring Bill, as eager to hear news as Big F was, for they saw that something of eposianes had happened up the Rio Grande, or Bill would not have ridden so desperately hard, as the con- dition of himself and horse indicated. ‘‘Big times, up the creek, boys; and if you can be spared, you’re wanted, bad. A war: arty of about sixty Camanches have sacked he town of Guerrero, on the Mexican side, and cleaned out Corralitas, on our side. They are now encamped above Santa Juanita. They have got John G. Moore and Clay Wells prison- ers. Rec’on that interests you, Joe, They have also captured a whole capoodle of pretty Mexican girls, which better be dead than go t the life they are destined for, if we do not rem cue them. I had a hard run through them— caused a few to sing their death-songs—and come on for help.” “You sey that John Moore and Clay Wells are prisoners, Bill; how’s that?’ Joe asked. “Well, Clay was in Corralitas, sick, Johr sombrero, trimmed with gold, a | had to leave him behind, when he went to Mom | terey for stock; but, John has lost everything, end without we get men enough to recapture the spoils and prisoners, soon, before they get far up country, ten to one, they don’t the whites to death.” : ; “By the blood 0’ Crockett, Joe,” said Big Foot, “I forgut tew tell yer, yer gali, Biss upon Bill’s. ‘
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’em out at last, with the help o’ my panther-cat. Tha left the same mornin’ | did, for Corralitas, bew see her brother, Clay, whoshe had he’rd war sick. She told me tew sling a word tew you, Joe, an’ have yer scout up the river tovewd that-a-way: but I forgut it till now. Rec’on reds will gobble up her party, tew.” “What in the name of heaven is coming next?’ said Reckless Joe. “I can hardly be- kieve that so much trouble should be heaped upon my shoulders, at one time. It does not seem possible. Excuse me, gentlemen; I can- not doubt your words; but for God’s sake let us hasten to Old Rip and get relieved from duty here, if possibic. There is enough of the boys who could be spared, now, to cut the reds to pieces, Come oi, boys! Time is more precious than gold. all are in with me on this trail, are you not?’ “Yes, Joe! You bet. Every time!” came from his fellow Rangers, as all spurred on after Joe, whose countenance showed a terrible anxi- | ety. Thoy left the scene of the execution and gal- Joped back. to the batitle-field; thence on the trail of the Rangers to the opening, further south, that had been chosen for the new camp and station. The Rangers killed in the battle had just been eonsigned to their last home, in mother earth. The wounded were doing well, under the kind care and attention of Kate Luby. A scout from San Antonio had arrived, bringing dis- patches to Col. Ford, from Gov. Houston, just | srevious to the arrival of Joe and his party from he scene of execution, to the effect that, as s00n as a decisive battle had been fought, and the bandits driven to their own side of the Rio Grande, such a number of the Rangers, as the colonel in his judgment could spare, should be al- lowed one month’s leave of absence, as many of them had but just returned from the Indian war, when they volunteered in the Rio Grande service, and had uot been given time to see their families. It was just as Col. Ford had finished perusing these dispatches, Joe and his comrades rode up to Old Rip Ford, and Kit, as spokesman of the squad, addressed the colonel: ** Colonel Ford, we, Ranzers of the Rio Grande, under your orders, give you greeting, and wish to say that we have, to the best of our ability, { _ squads, down the river, so they can easily and | guickly get together, in case Cortina, with any large force, crosses the river. “Tt will take some time afore the danged cha- parral fox can get a crowd together, and then | we will be ready for him, boys, and give him all he can stand ag’in’. ‘‘ Joe Booth, take charge of one-half of this | scouting party, and Kit Carson, Jr., you take Kit, Big Foot, Ben, Bill, Phil—-you | the others. You’ve got an open, plain trail ahead, an’ see if yer do as well at the end on’t, as yer did this mornin. I hope I shall have the pleasure of shakin’ yer fists, aH on yer, in ther Alamo city.” As soon as Col. Ford had ceased speaking, the Rangers burst out in three rousing cheers, and ended off with the Texas yeil. As the loud yells of the Rangers ceased, Kate Luby stepped from under the bower of branch- es which sheltered the wounded, and stood won- dering at the commotion. The sight of a lovely woman, standing in the | light of the camp-fire, which gave an additional served the State in breaking up the horde of | bandits, commanded by the Scourge of the Bra- vo, and that we hold you, our colonel, as does every citizen of the Lone Star State, in the highest esteem. Weare before you this night to ask a favor, which we think you cannot re- fuse to grant. “ Reckless Joe, our brother Ranger, is in great | trouble. One he loves better than his life is in immediate danger, and two of his friends are captives to a war-party of Indians, who are en- camped above Santa Juanita. “Thoy have a large amount of stock, stolen from both sides of the river, and also female prisoners, who, although they are Mexicans, de- mand at our hands immediate release, for no American can say but what he was always kind- ly and well-treated by the senoras, and senori- tas of our so-called sister Republic. “We would ask you to allow us to call forvol- anteers enough from among our friends here, to make twenty-five fighting men, to start at day- break, after the red devils to overtake them be- fore they have an opportunity of ill-treating or torturing the prisoners. “Our fellow-Ranger, Daring Bill, who has been up the river on duty, and has just come down with the news, will give you the particu- Jars when he has had a rest, and broken his long fast.” Col. Ford glanced admiringly around the cir- cle of his favorite scouts, and then answered: ‘Gentlemen, Rangers, defenders of the fron- tiers of our Lone Star State! It makes mo roud to look upon your eager faces—you, who ve just passed through one of the hardest and most bloody day's service you will perhaps ever be callod upon to undergo, but now are ready for a lone trail, with another big fight on the end of it. I have the authority in my hands, from Covernor Houston, to give you leave of ab- sence for thirty days, but, I now order you to eed immediately, calling for enough volun- rs to make up the number twenty-five, and moro if you wish, and do your best to catch theso daring devils, and don’t letasingle red euss get away with his scalp. Dispose of tho plunder as usual, equally among yourselves, except that which you can refurn to the origi- nal owners, and send tho Mexican women back to their homes safely, under escort, allowing them as many animals as they wish from the number captured on the Mexican side of the iver. I need not tell you to treat them kindly, know you will. When you have dono your work, and swept from the earth these red imps ef Satan, your furlough commences, and. you @an all go to San Antonio. I shall point my tail that way m inside of three weeks. “3% aball the throes” companies, in charm and cast a halo about her form that made her look angelic. The sight of this woman, who they all knew was watching over and ministering to the com- | fort of their wounded comrades, sent an electric thrill through the whole Ranger force, and the | chaparrals rung again with wild, heartfelt cheers Jor Kate Luby! the Queen of the Rio Grande. CHAPTER XVIL. STRIKE TILA, THE LAST ARMED FOE EXPIRES. I heard the lance’s shivering crash As when the whirlwind rends the ash; And through the wood the rifles rang Like to a hundred anvils’ clang. * * * * * * * At once there rose so wild a yell Within that dark and narrow dell, As ali the fiends from heaven that fell Had pealed the banner cry of hell, * * * * * * * What groans shall far-off valley fill! What shrieks of grief shall rend the hill! What tears of burning rage fall fast, When moans thy tribe her battles lost, * A * ~ * ae Vhen lovers meetin danger’s hour *Tis like a sun-glimpse through a shower. Our next scene opens fifty miles above fort Tewell,'on the Nueces river, in a horse-shoe bend of the stream, of about five acres in ex- tent—the most of which is an opening covered with tall, rich grass and bordered by large pe- can trees. It is as wild.and secluded a spot as there is on the continent, and unfrequented, ex- cept by occasional herds of mustangs, who can- ter down to drink from the prairies beyond. But, the time to which I now allude is one week after we left our Ranger friends on the Rio Grande, and Clown, Jack and Miss Wells, or Rely, on the Nueces river, seeking a rest- ing-place after their rough experiences from the band of Creeping Panther. This opening and bend of the river were now * | oceupied by a large war-party of Camanches, | just preparing to return to their distant villages | lestation. on the borders of the Llano Estacado, The Indians had be@a more than usually suc- cessful in capturing plunder and prisoners, and 25 Around the western curve of the horseshoe bend, creeping silently as snaxes beneath tho under-brush, are the rest of the Rangers under “Reckless Joe,” who is most interested in the welfare of the prisoners held by the Camanchea, They have left their horses behind, seereted in a thicket. Among these Texans who are stealing so slow and silent toward the point of the Indian camp where the prisoners are bound, are some of the most noted scouts and Range of the south: west—-Big Foot Wallace, Tom Clark, Jack Ran- som, Phil Cole, Jim Bearfield, Fighting Ben an@ his brother Daring Bill—all eager to do all in their power to rescue the affianced wife of Reckless Joe and the other prisoners from hor- rible protracted deaths by torture, and the fe- males from a degrading slavery, ten thousand times worse than death. At intervals they stop, and lay silent and prone upon the earth, while Big Foot steals on some careless sentinel, and with his right hand grasping the Indian’s neck with an iron grip, the left drives his bowie to the hilt in the heart of the red-skin, and then they move on again. No. Indian has a chance to yell, or ereatea commotion after the Giant of the Border once gets his hands upon him. Let us now enter the Indian camp. We pass through groups of savages—theip features rendered more pideons than nature formed them by the war-paint which besmears them, in some instances down to the waist belt. They are engaged in cooking fish and mules steaks before the coals. You hear no noise or eonfusion; it would aot seem to you pos#ble that so many humans could be congregated together and keep so silent. An occasional guttural grunt, now and then a mons osyllable in the Camanche tongue, the neigh of a horse or squeal of a mule, is all that breaks the stillness. We pass on through the camp; weceme toa fire where several chiefs are seated, smokin their pipes. The brilliant-hued feathers tw nal in their long hair show their rank, but we mere- ly give them a glance, as something attraets our eyes in their rear which interests us more than | all this savage display. were also well informed as to the Rangers being | engaged on the Rio Grande in fighting Cortina, and felt themselves perfectly secure from mo- Hundreds of horses and mules filled the opening, just driven in from the prairies‘ for the night, The camp-fires burning brightly on the border of the opening beneath the trees, showed plain- ly how secure the Indians felt themselves to be. Before we enter and rg! the Indian camp, let us glance through the dark shades of the pe- can trees which border the river to the east and west of the camp of the red-skins. To the east, some two hundred “yards from | the fires of the Indians, and directly under the bank of the river, effectually concealed by tho thick foliage and deepening twilight, are a dozen Rangers, seated on their horses, ready tocharge into the midst of their hated foes. Every thing has been considered in regard to Within the border of light, thrown out by the fire, we observe that a captive is bound to each tree; and among them we recognize our friends Rely, Jack, and Clown, who are again in the hands of the enemy; and the pale, emaciated youth, and fine-formed, noble-looking man, bound near them, we know must be Rely’s brether, Clay, and her brother-in-law, Jolin G. Moore, ; A deathly pallor and despairing look is on the face of Rely as she gazes on the form of her brother, who seems more dead than alive. Jack and Clown show signs of great suffering, but still it is plain to be seen that were they free, with arms in their hands, they would do some damage yet to those they look upon with such intense hatred. On each side of the whites are several youn Mexican girls, their heads hanging down, vail by their long, luxuriant hair, which falls below their waists. We stand horror-struck to realize that our friends we have felt such an interest im, and who have had so many dangers beset their path, are again in the power of the red corturers of the plains; but, as we contemplate their wasted and worn features and frames, a groan of agony strikes our ears from toward the fire. From whence comes that heavy groan, which speaks plainly of unbearable, excruciating pain, and sends a thrill of horror through the heart of the hearer? It comes from near the fire of the chiefs. We see no prisoner bound near them, and wonder from whence comes the groan. It comes again, and guides our eyes abeve the heads of the chiefs, who we now notice are themselves Jooking upward, an expression of gratified hatred, revenge and brutality stamped | upon their faces. approaching and attacking the Indians before | the Rangers had arrived near them, by men well used to prairie warfare. They know if they charge into the camp the Indians will immedi- | | ately murder the prisoners in cold blood; hence the silent movements and division of the Ran- gers. | the right hands, the bridle-rein in the left, and | every sense is on the alert and ready to act. Kit Carson, Jr., whose sharp roving eyes seem to pierce the foliage and dark shadows, bends | forward as he listens for the expected signal from Reckless Joo on the opposite side of the Indian encampment. Behind, and near to Kit is his shadow, Mike O'Keefe, who holds, with a firm grip, a cavalry saber which he has traded for at the fort on the Rio Grande. His faco shows great eagerness, and his eyes try to pierce the obstructions to his view, so he can see what kind of “ divils” he Our eyes turn up to the foliage above the heads of the Indians, and, oh horror of horrors! what a sight meets our view! Two saplings about twenty feet apart have been trimmed of their branches, the tops bent over by the combined strength of several war- riors, and a human—a white man—a Texan—is suspended between them by the wrists, the bert saplings drawing so strongly apart from each | Other that the arms of the sufferer are drawn ‘ pers ; _ | straight and seem tearing from the body. The deadly Colt’s revolvers are firmly held in | We see the man being s0 tortured is a strong, hardy ranchero, and wonder, knowing the In- dian custem of treating prisoners, that he is not reserved until they arrive at their villages, but | the bullet mark in the thigh, frorm whence issueg | a stream of blood, and the swinging of the limb, show the man has been shot, and has a broken leg—and that is the reason they are torturing him on the trail, as they can convey him no further. They are not satisfied with the awful agony | he is stffering with his wound, and torture | worse than crucifixion, for one of the braves : | near the fire snatches a massof fat meat, hissing has to contend with now, as he has never seen an | the from the embers, and hurls it direct bare breast i of the poor, suffering prisoner.
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26 SO 56a ES De New York = pen His form writhes, hig flesh becomes a more . The hottest of the fight was near the prison- gastly hue, and the blood bursts forth afresh from the wound in the leg; his strength and life are fast leaving him; they can get but a low, deep moan from his lips; brands of fire are held to the bottoms of his bare feet, but he has not the strength to draw them up to avoid the | dreaded torture; his eye-balls roll up under the lids; his teeth are clenched and grinding in agony. Another brave, knife in hand, reaches up and—we can write no more. Asudden spasm follows this fiendish act; a drawing together of the limbs and body, a deep groan of mortal agony; then limbs and muscles relax; the head falls forward, and we know, and thank God, the ranchero is out of his misery. Ali this is in plain view of the other prisoners, to give them a stirs of their own fate. The last groan of the tortured Texan was echoed by those bound to the trees, which so maddened one of the chiefs that he sprung to- ward them with flashing eyes. He stopped op- ers, where the Indians, back to back, fought those mounted on one side, and those on foot by the prisoners on the other. Every man among the Rangers was a host in himself, and the carnage was fearful. It was a scene never to be forgotten by those who were present. The thunder of thousands of hoofs, as the Indian horses were stampeded, the sharp reports and volleys of the revolvers, | the zip of bullets, whiz of arrows and lances, | humming of tomahawks, whoops, howls, dying | and victorious yells, the slirill scream of wound- ed and maddened mustangs, and death-chants of the dying braves; the smoke of battle and taint of blood upon the air—all combined to make up a horrible confusion, from which the Rangers emerged with the prisoners, and col- | lected together near the river-bank, some eighty yards from the main camp-fire of the chiefs! ee Clown, gathered a lock of the captive’s | 1air, twisted it around his fingers and jerked it by the roots from the scalp, tearing the same badly, and causing the blood to flow in streams down his face ard neck, but not a murmur came from the set teeth. The Indian passes to Jack, who knows this is no time to talk or show feel- ing. A stunning blow upon the head of Jack rendering him senseless, and the chief stalks on to the pale, sick Clay Wells, whose head is drooped with weakness. The Indian knows the feeble boy will never live to reach the distant | villages of his tribe to serve for a scene of tor- ture, and cares not how soon he dies. His war- club is raised in the air, and descends upon the | head of poor Clay; the blow is partly broken by the end of the war-club coming in contact with the tree, but it is sufficiently severe to open the scalp, bare the slxull, and send spurts of blood over the other prisoners. John Moore writhes and twists with his bonds in vain, to free himself and save the boy from death. The war-club of the chief had no sooner cloy- en the air, than Rely gave a piercing scream, that echoed and re-echoed through the now dark woods, and caused Kit Carson and his men, so impatiently awaiting the signal, to writhe in their saddles, and Kit could hardly restrain the Rangers from immediately charging into the Indian camp. Was Rely a witch, that her voice could con- jure up from earth, and bush, and from behind the scraggy trunks of trees, human forms, clad in the buck-skin of the loved Ranger corps? One, oh so loved, so familiar to her eyes, dart- ed past her; his rifle-barrel glanced in the fire- light asitswung with terrible force, and crashed the skull of the Indian chief who had struck her | brother Clay; the next moment her bands were | J - : | bowed and seraped before the laughing girls, cut, and she was encircled by the left arm of Reckless Joe, while his right held his trusty | Colt, and from his lips rung the wild Texas yell, a signal to his friends awaiting it so impa- tiently in the wood, the other side of the Indian camp. Other hands were at work while Joe attended te his loved Martha. Knives glanced and fashed around the trees; | prisoners fell prone to the earth as their bonds were cut, being unable to stand from being so long cramped in one position. Big Foot slashed the bonds of John Moore, and put a pistol in his hands, saying: ‘*tub yer jints, man, an’ pitch in; this are a . | ranchero and two Rangers who were killed. tree ficht, an’ no favors asked.” Big Foot stalked up and down, panting with exertion, his clothing cut, torn and bloody, as were all who had been dismounted. Joe, bending over the still senseless form of Clay, Rely weeping bitter tears of anguish at the | sight of the death-like countenance of her Tn less time than it takes to write it, the Ran- | gers are pressing on the Indians, hand to hand, | : ‘i | to fort Ewell. the revolvers dropping the latter thick ang fast the former barring the way so the reds could not reach their prisoners, among whom they had fired a volley of arrows at the first alarm. Now came the crisis. The Rangers on foot wee hard pressed, five to one, and being backed again toward the prisoners. John Moore, Clown and Jack, although the latter was wounded, brother, but giving a smile of love through her tears, as Joe would offer her words of encour- agement. A short distance from Joe was a strange sight for such a time and place. Kit Carson, Jr., sat upon a limb of deadwood with a dozeh beauti- ful senoritas reclining upon the ground at his feet, all displaying in their faces pleasure and admiration, as they gazed at and listened to their mother tongue, as it dropped in words of 3 es “J may not, dare not, fancy now The grief that clouds thy lovely brow, I dare not think upon thy vow, And all it promised me, A time will come with feeling fraughtt For, if I fall in battle fought, Thy hapless husband's dying thought Shall be a thought on thoa, * And if, returning from conquered foes, How blithely will the evening close, How sweet the linnet sing repose To Martha and to me!” ONCE more our story calls us to the slams City—once more to the cottage of the widow Wells, near the little old Methodist Church. Three weeks have elapsed since we left the Rangers with their wounded—the rescued cay tives, who had so narrowly escaped death by torture—the females, who had been saved from a fate so horrible that no one except those who know the cruelties practiced by the red fiends, personally, by actual observation, can conceive | of—and the large herds of horses and mules just Martha Wells and John Moore were | started on their way to San Antonio from fort Ewell, on the Nueces river. We will not tax the patience of our readers by relating in detail the oft repeated, same old story—love scenes between our friend Reckless Joe and Miss Martha Wells; who had been per- | suaded, not much against her will, to consent ene ay flattery and encouragyment from the | ips of the daring, dashing American they had seen mowing his way through the red demons | toward them. It was very evident to an ob- server that any one of them would have been | overjoyed at being captured by such an enemy as Kit, and that one in particular had made up her mind to stick by his side and claim his pro- | tection rather than return to Mexico. senoritas that Mike came toward him, having made a tour of the battlefield: He was clean- ing the blood from his saber with a wisp of grass, as he neared the group, but his eyes only saw Kit. ‘¢ Arrah, spake to yer poor Mike, Misther Kit; only wun word fur the tinder marcy o’ God, to to a marriage with her Ranger lover before he returned to the Rio Grande. - Col. Ford and Kate Luby, who had consented to visit the Alamo City, were to be present at the ceremony, as were also the Rangers who were in the Nueces fight. The Mexican girls, some of them having rela- tives in San Antonio, had preferred coming on to that city to await the return of the Rangers to the Brayo, rather than go with the small escort that could be spared them at the Nueces. We pass over, also, the joyous though sad meeting between Mrs. Wells, her daughter, and sick son Clay; over the raptures of the wire of John G. Moore, who once more clasped in her “ at ‘ : | arms one she had mourned as dead; and the It was during Kit’s conversation with the | welcome the Rangers received from the citizens of San Antonio, the cheers that greeted them as they marched through streets and plazas with the plunder of the Indian camp, and rescued captives. We deal more with stern facts con. | nected with frontier life than street or domestic let me know I’m still in Texas, an’ not in the in- | ’ farnal rag’ons, as things around betokens.’ ‘**Do you call this aninfernalsight? I call it | heavenly, Mike, for the angels are not wanting.” | Mike’s eyes wandered about the circle of Mex- ican girls, who were smiling, as they whispered | to each other, that Mike was ‘‘un Irlandesa y un Cristiano,” (an Irishman and a Christian.) Mike’s sombrero came off instanter, as he who, but an hour before, were prisoners with a You can see a Mexican woman one moment a raging tigress, the next as loving as a cooing dove. With a smile covering his face, like the sun- shine on the side of a barn, Mike shook the prof- seenes; but the last and most pleasant event connected with our story, although it is within the confines of civilization, must be described, as it concerns. those we have followed through | dark and bloody experiences. As we walk up the street to the Methodist Church, we observe a score of horses are tied to the fences adjoining the church and dwelling of Mrs. Wells. The Sharpe’s carbines hanging from the sad- dle-horns—the blankets rolled up and secured on the cantiles of the saddles—canteens, tin cups, L ) , | ete., show us that these animals belong to our | fearful life before them; but I picture them just | | as they are, and truth is stranger than fiction. fered hands of the beautiful captives, but, as | | he was engaged in this very pleasant pastime, >t he was called by Big Foot, to help drive in the stampeded stock. The next morning after the fight all started down the river, after burying the i t was found that but few of the Indians escaped. The wounded were taken by slow, short marches Here a wagon was found ready to convey them to San Antonio, and all hands proceeded toward the Alamo City, but with | slow progress, on account of the sick, and those injured in the fight. sprung into the fight as soon as they could use | their limbs, with wild yells. Big Foot, Tom, Bill, Ben, Jim, Joa, and all, were fighting like demons, but hardly able to hold their ground | against such odds, when a sight burst on their eyes that gave them hope, and put double strength into their arms. On, like an avalanche, came the mounted Ran- gers on the Indians’ rear, driving them into one mingled mass, Kit riding over them and crush- ing them to the earth beneath his horse’s heels, @ six-shooter in each hand, uttering wilder yells than any brave on the field, and urging on his boys, who, in the same style, left death at every bound of their horses. Mike, at Kit’s side, with his wild ‘“Hurroo, for Texas! am’ ould Erin go bragh! down wid the red divels!” his saber glittering, cutting tho air, and slashing all about and around him, dripping with gore, and causing as much fear and shrink- ing by his long knife and wild aspect, as any man in the fight—in fact, performing prodigies of valor, and winning for himself, from that Gay, the name of ‘‘Slashing Mike.” > animals in the opening were stampeded by aaa Sete 28 Seer ee cee - Jack Hodge received a poisoned arrow in the side; Reckless Joe one in the leg. were bound with moistened tobacco at first, or they would have proved fatal. Clay Wells was too feeble to ride, and he had a wild, insane | look, which was not favorable to his speedy re- eovery. With the exceptions of the worry on account of Clay, and Joe’s wound, Rely, or as | we must now call her, Miss Wels, was perfectly happy, and she had continually begged of Joe not to return to the Rio Grande, but had not been able to get him to promise her this favor, as it was his duty to serve out his term of six months, if the company were not disbanded. But we will leave our brave detachment of Rangers to their travels, and meet them in the Alamo City. CHAPTER XVII MARRIAGE BELLS AND BELLES. Tho gallant bridegroom by her side, Beheld his prizo with victor's pride, And the glad mother. in her ear Was closely whispering words of cheer. * * cd * x * * Yet, sad he stood his horse beside, And Aingerinf, eyed his lovely bride, Until he saw the starting tear Aipoke woe he might not stop to cheer. Ranger friends. As we come nearer we see the Rangers re clining in and about the yard of the cottage, attired a little more neatly perhaps, but still in the picturesque costume of the Rio Grande. The doors of the church are open and we have not long to wait before we observe the wedding procession start from the cottage té the Aba Col. Ford, with Mrs. Wells and Kate Luby, | take the lead, and Reckless Joe, with the bride, follows. They do not care for etiquette. A score of the mates of Martha Wells, young lady friends and acquaintances, among which is her | sister, Mary Wells, follow behind Joe and Rely. ~ Kit Carson, Jr., with the beautiful Mexican captive, Celestie, clinging closely to the sleeve of his buckskin jacket, come next; then follow twelve senoritas clothed in white muslin, each | leaning upon the arm of one of our Ranger friends, and all seemingly happy, as they ought | to be, at having escaped from their red captors, Their wounds | Among those escorting the Mexican girls are Fighting Ben and Daring Bill, the two brothers; also Tom Clark, Phil Cole, Jim Ransom, Jack Hodge, pale from his recent wound, and Clown. Big Foot Wallace strides on alone, enters the church, seats himself upon the sill of an open window, throwing one leg outside, as it comes more natural to him to straddle something, and nervously awaits the time “fur ther preacher tew sling his hitchin’ words, an’ make Joe and tely pards fur life.” Mike sits upon the sward outside, rubbing his saber with a piece of buckskin, muttering to himself. ‘' Well, it’s soon we'll be wadin’ thr’w’ blud ag’in, an’ I'm danged ef I don’t think Pl stick to Kit an’ the colonel as long as I’y’ a hair upon me he’d., Sure it’s slushins 0’ money arf land I'll git ef I stays wid’em.” The solemn service is over; Joe G. Booth and Mrs. Martha Booth receive the congratulations of their friends. The sombreros of the Rangers are whirled over their heads, and wild hurrabs resound ia the little church. The Rangers ‘‘shake” with the colonel, Mra, Wells, Kate Luby, Joe, Martha and the preach- er, until the latter is forced to beat a retress,
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Kit Carson, Jr., the Crack oa works his way through the crowd toward . © door... : His course leads him past Big Foot, who, see- ing him approach, leaps from his perch in the window to the ground outside, muttering: “This are the fust time I ever war into a | Christian factory, an’ ther nighest I ever war | tew a reg’ler genwine gospel-slinger: It’s tew | danged stiff an’ clost here; rec’on I’li pitch fur ther ranch an’ see my cat. I can sling myself round loose thar, without hurtin’ anybody’s *pin’ons or feelin’s,” and Big Foot sprung upon Ris black mustang, gave a farewell yell that drowned the confused noise in the church, and | loped toward the Plaza. tough in appearance, rough in his manners | and speech, who knows but what his thoughts, | if he could express them in good language, | would have run as smooth as his who said: *Bear me, some God, ob, quickly bear me hence, © wholesome solitude, the nurse of sense, / ‘here contemplation proves her ruffled wings, And the free soul looks down on kings.” / | 4& bountiful repast was ced beneath the | trees in the gardens of Mrs. Wells, and all went merry as a marriage party should; after which pkey adjourned to the cottage for music. The windows being open, the Rangers could hear as they smoked their cigarettes. Mrs. Martha Booth seated herself at the piano at the request of Col. Ford, who also called upon Kate Luby for a song. Kate was not one of that kind of ladies who always have a cold, and if she had been, it was in the wrong climate to bring forward such an excuse. Kate was always happy to please her friends fn any way in her power. She called on Martha Booth for the music of the ‘Song of the Texan Ranger,” and in a voice which brought all the Rangers to their feet from the lawn outside, and caused them to crowd the | windows, she sung: ** Dashing o'er the prairies, free from toil and care, | Scouting through the chaparrals, camping here and | there, Mounted on mustangs as fleet as ever Camanche did ride, Rifle always ready and revolver by our side. CHORUS: “Thon mount my boys, and away! The trail is broad and clear, And when you see the Reds, Just at thein with a cheer! * * * * * *” * * * **The Alamo we have not forgot, and Texans never will; And the Bandits they shall hear it mingled with our yell, And the Bandits they shall hear it mingled with our yell—our yell—our yell! ( Chorus.) “Free and fearless, over plain and wood we roam; Where night overtakes us, there we make our home; By the streamlet's smooth green bank, or the can- yon's dry bed, From the Bravo's chaparrals, away far to the Red. (Chorwus,) ‘Now by Reds we're surrounded, war-cries fill the / air; Arrows darting ’round us, fiends in paint and hair; | Lances glist’ning in the sun, the Texans’ yells re- sound; Warriors give their dying whoop, the mustang his last bound, (Chortis.) * And now on the Mexican border we dash for Cor- tina’s band, nd drive the thieving bandits into the Rio Grande; ‘hey Are gasping now in the water and dying on tke shora, While ‘Rememberthe Alamo’ isheard ‘bove battle’s | 9. roar! While ‘Remember the Alamo’ is heard ‘beve battlo’s ot? roar—the roar—the roar—the roar—the roar! Loud vivas rent the air outside as Kate fin- ished this dashing songz, so appropriately chosen for the listeners. ‘Who writ that song?’ asked Tom Clark, “ My pard, Little Yank,” answered Reckless Joe. ‘*T thought that ware his style o’ slingin’ Eng- lish,” said Tom. “YT think the music is perfectly splendid,” aided Kate. ‘‘ You can hear the horses gallop- fng in the refrain, The composer must have been a very talented man—a star in the music world.” . “You bet, he’s a white man,” said Kit. ‘‘ He’s | worth five hundred and sixteen common men— | a regular Washington stamp of a gent. My | uncle Kit run ag’in’ him in Boston, ‘way down fn Yankee land.” ‘‘ Kit,” said Colonel Ford, ‘‘ you can sing, I | know; so give us something in that line. You look happy enough to sing, with your Spanish Dictionary under your arm.” “ Don’t call this lady out of her name, colonel. Allow me. to introduce you to Celestie Garcia; I call her Bonita, our Rio Grande pet name. Bhe was to be the squaw of Jumping Bear, had not that warrior taken a sudden jump into the happy hunting-grounds.” Galonel Ford and Kate Luby were soon con- versing with the Mexican girl inher own tongue, but Joe interrupted them by asking if Celestie would not prevail upon Kit to ging. The latter peg ee Soe , “Sing? Yes; I rec’on Loan shes, Sri in that direction,” and in hisusual prompt, nervous | style, without any preliminary remarks, he launched out, with a languishing look towaré Celestie: “You aré lovely as the prairie flowers, That all around you bloom; Your step is graceful as the fawn's, Your breath is sweet perfume; Your eyes are dark as midnight, But full of love they glow, Mount your mustang, and fly with me; Bonita, don’t say no! CHORUS: * I'll range no more the chaparrals; Or the plains ‘gainst Indian foe; Tear off my spurs with tinkling bells; Bonita, don t say no! * Your life shall be a happy dream, 1'll be your humble slave, Don't look distrustfully at me, Believe me I’m no knave; We met beneath the flash of lights, In the gay fandango, I loved you then, I love you now; Bonita, don't say no! (Chorus.) ** My Texan cabin is of logs, And stands by flowing stream, Shaded from the burning sun By branches ever green; Mustangs in plenty you shall ride Where’er you choose to go,— Come, kiss me, senorita, fair,— Bonita, don't say no! (Chorus.) *“ The sweet scents from magnolias Shall hover in the air, Mocking birds’ songs, and rippling stream, Shall drive away all! care; Then fly with me from the Rio Grande; To my Texan home we'll go, Or my heart will break, my darling— Bonita, don’t say no!” (Ohorus.) A deafening round of applause greeted Kit as | the song ended, and the ladies complimented him highly. “That’s another of Little Yank’s songs,” said Tom. ‘‘He can be hard one day and soft ther | next; dang’est cuss I ever seen.” But we will not linger longer with the wed- ding-party. Suffice to say that all were happy and that it broke up at a late hour. A barfecue was given to the Rangers by the citizens of San Antonio, the same week that Reckless Joe swore: ‘‘ By all the gods of ancient Greece, he’d stand before the world against the world, with ready heart and hand, to combat all the ills and smooth the pathway of his Texan bride, Rely.” But, he had not long to linger by her side. Colonel Ford and his Rangers were soon on their way to the Rio Grande, Cortina having again invaded the State. Col. John Ford (Old Rip Ford) is now—at this writing—a member of the Texas Legislature, and can be seen any day on the avenue walking from his hotel to the State House, and ten to one you do not meet “Ben Thompson (Fighting Ben), or Billie Thompson (Daring Bill) on the | Same avenue, Clown you will meet in San Antonio; every- body knows him by that name, and he is proba- | bly the only man on the continent who can say he whipped and drove off fifteen Indians, kill- ing eleven of them single-handed. Jack Hodge died at White Sulphur Springs, Arkansas, in consequence of the poisoned ar- row wound received in the Nueces river fight. Joe G. Booth (Reckless Joe) does business in Dallas, Texas, but lives in Terrell, an adjoining town, where, if you choose to go to his cottage, you avill be well treated by Mrs. Booth—none other but our friend, Martha Wells, or Rely; and a little Reckless Joe will show you how to ride a mustang, and two young fairy Relys will gather wild flowers from the prairies for ‘you. Tom Clark was killed in the public market in San Antonio shortly after returning from the Rio Grande by two desperadoes, but both were , Shot through the heart after Tom had. received . He died with his hands in | his mortal stab. mine, and as I closed his eyes I knew that one of my best friends on earth was dead. Jim Ransom is in New Mexico. Jim Bear- field ranches it on the Medina river. Big Foot Wallace meanders about up and down the Nueces, or San Miguel, catching a mustang, or knocking a deer over, as he chooses: | but his cat died from the wounds received in the Indian surprise-party, there being no one to take proper care of her when Big Foot went to the big Cortina scrape. Kate Luby is now in Corpus Christi, teaching language and music to Texan girls, and takes great pride in her three sons, who are posted in all prairie knowledge, John G. Moore lives in Terrell, Texas, and owns thousands of acres of land, and more stock than he can estimate. Gen, Juan N, Cortina, once the bandit chief, accepted the cross of the Legion’ of Honor, through Emperor Maximilian, from Napoleon IIT, and afterward turned over his numerous forces to Juarez. In his pretended submission to the French, he escaped the Scylla of Gen. Mejia’s Legion, by which he was hemmed in in Matamo: Charybdis of the many who were watching the Rio Grande, ras, and the ‘“‘Gringoes” or Americans for him on the other side of Shot of the West. His release from the military prison of Vera Cruz, on $15,000 bail, last spring, is fresh in the memory of all, and its injustice maddening to Texans. His vagrant followers, even now, are lurking in the chaparrals, and not a week passes with- | out the spilling of blood between Gringoes and Greasers. Clay Wells is in the Texas lunatic asylum, having never recovered from the blow given with the war-club on the Nueces. Bill George (Texas Bill), is sheriff of Lancas ter, Texas. ; Kit Carson, Jr., is around among us. Wild Will was as bad as represented. I saw him cut his horse to death myself on the ride through our catup, on Banketta Creek. P. §8.—Phil Cole was shot dead by Wiid Bill in Ellsworth, Kansas, in 1875. He was stand. ing in a bar-room door in the night, shoot ing off his six in the air (as was his way, and as I hin described in Fort Brown), when Bill shot him through the heart, and also his deputy sheriff by mistake, who was coming to his as- sistance—Bill thinking his aid was a pal of Phil’s. This last spring Fighting Ben had a fight with | roughs in Elsworth, and killed two. Sam, ) THE END. BEADLE AND ADAMS’ STANDARD DIME PUBLICATIONS Speakers. Each volume contains 100 large pages, printeé from clear, open type, comprising the best collec- tion of Dialogues, Dramas and Recitations. The Dime Speakers embrace twenty-four volumes, viz. : 1, American Speaker. 13. Schoo! Speaker. | 2, National Speaker. 14, Tudicrous Speaker. | 3. Patriotic Speaker. | 15, Komikal Speaker. | 4, Comic Speaker. 16. Youth’s Speaker. 5. Elocutionist. 17. Eloquent Speaker. 6. Humorous Speaker. 18, Hail Columbia Speak- %. Standard Speaker. er. 8. Stump Speaker. 19. Serio-Comic Speaker, 9, Juvenile Speaker. 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Dialogues No. Bleven. |DialoguesNo, Twenty-seven, Dialogues No. Twelve. |Dialogues No. Twenty-eight, Dialogues No. Thirteen. tm, tie No. Twenty-nine Dialogues No, Fourteen |Dial®rues No. Thirty. | Dialogues No. Fifteen, |Dialogues No. Thirty-one, Dialogues No, Sixteen. ‘Dialogues No, Thirty-two. 15 to 25 Dialogues and Dramas in each book, Dramas and Readings. 164 12m». Pages. 20 Cents. For Schools, Parlors, Entertainments and the Ame» jateur Stage, comprising Original Minor Dramas, Comedy, Farce, D ess Pieces, Humorous Dialogue and Burlesque, by noted writers; and Recitations and Readings, new -nd standard, of the greatest celebrity and interest. . Edited by Prof, A. M. Russell, DIME HAND-BOOKS. / Young People’s Series. Beapie’s Diaz Hanp-Books ror Youna Prop.e jcover a wide range of subjects, and are 3specially jadaptea to their end. | Ladies’ Letver-Writer. Book of Games. Fortune-Teller, Lovers’ Casket. Ball-room Companion, Book of Beauty. Book of Etiquette.” | Book of Verses. 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az +3 Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue BY JOSEPH. E. BADGER, JR. 928 Old Sobersides, the Detective of St. Louis. 925 White-Horse Wheeler, the Revenue Detective. 918 The Double Edged Detective. 907 Maverick Mark. the Man from Nowhere, 898 Silky Steele, the Stay-in Sport. 884 The Spotter-Sport’s Neck-Tie Party, 870 High-Water Mark; or, Silver-Tip Sid, 362 Riata Rob, the Range Champion. 855 The C.whoy Chief's Sure-Shot. $48 The Rival Red-Hat Sports. $37 Curly Kid, the Cheyenne Sport. 824 The Soft Hand Detective, 815 The Soft Hand’s Clutch. 809 Dan Duan, the Soft-Hand Sport, 796 The ‘Frisco Detective’s Thug-Tangle, .B9 Sam Cary, the River ep rt. ‘80 The Dead Sport’s Double. (71 Prince John, Detective Special. 763 Dandy Don, the Denver Detective. 754 ‘lhe Man from Texas; or, Dangerfield, Doctor Detective. 744 Sweepstakes Sam, the Silver Sport, 720 The Secret Six; or, O!d Halcyon. 712 The Man of Silk. 705 Bantam Bob, the Beauty from Butte. 693 Kent Kasson, the Preacher Sport, 683 Bob Breeze, the Rounder Detective, 675 Steel Surry, the Sport from Sunrise, 668 Solemn Saul’s Luck Strcak 661 The Get-There Sharp. 651 Silvewtip Steve, the Sky Scraper from Siskiyou. 645 Gopher Gabe, the Unseen Detective, 6386 Dandy Darling, Detective. 627 Mossback Mose, the Mountaineer. “< 617 The Grip Sack Sbarp’s Even up. Big Bandy, the Brigadier of Brimstone Butte. 588 Sandy sands, the Sharp from Snap City. 576 Siiver-Tongued sid; or, Grip Sack Sharp's Sweep. 5664 The Grip-Sack Sharp; or, The Seraphs of Sodom, 655 Grip-Sack Sid, the Sample Sport. S47 The Buried Detective; or, Sa..I’s Six Sensations. 541 Major Magnet, the Man of Nerve. 535 Dandy Dutch, the Decerator from Dead-Lift 527 Dandy Andy, the Diamond Detective. 514 Gabe Gunn, the Grizzly from Ginseng, 604 Solemn Saul. the Sad Manfrom San Saba, 495 Rattiepate Rob; or, The Roundhead’s Reprisal 488 The Thorcugnbred Sport. 474 Daddy Vead-Eye, the Desvot of Dew Drop, 466 Old Rough and Ready, the Sage of Sundown Duteh Dan. the Pilgrim from Spitzenberg. 443 A Coo! tiand; or, Pistol Johnuy’s Picnic, 438 Oklahoma Nick. 133 Laughing Leo; or, Sam’s Dandy Pard, 426 The Ghost Detective: or, The Secret Service Spy. 416 Monte jim. the Black Sheep of Bismarck, “09 Rob Roy Ranch; or, The Imps of Pan Handle, 40% ‘Tne Nameless Sport 5 Deediy Aim, the Duke of Derringers. 887 Dark Darg. the Ispmael of the Hills, 872 Captain Crisp, the Man with a Record. 867 A Royal Flush: or, Dan Brown’s Lig Game. 860 Jumping Jerry, the Gamecock from Sundown, 355 Stormy Steve, the Mad Athlete, 351 Nor’ West Nick, the Border Detective. 345 Masked Mark, the Mounted Detective, 339 Spread Hagle Sam, the Hercules Hide slunter, 331 Chispa Charley. the Gold Nugget Sport. 817 rank Lightfoot, the Miner Detective. 292 Moke Horner, the Boss Roustabout. 286 Pistol! Johnny; or, One Man ina Thousand, 283 Sieek Sam, the Devil of the Mines, 257 Death Tran Diggings: or, A Man ’Way Back 249 Flephant Tom, of Durango. 241 Spitfire Saul, King of the Rustlers. 233 The Old tiov of Tombstone. 201 Pirate of the Piacers; or, Joaquin’s Death Hunt 180 Old ‘49; or. The Amazon of Arizona, 170 Sweet Wiliiam, the Trapper Detective. 165 Joaquin. the Terrible — 14 Joaquin, the Saddie King. 141 Equinox Tom, the Bal'y of Red Rock. 119 Alabama Joe; or, The Yazoo Man-Hunters, 205 Dan Brown of Denver: or. The Detective. 88 Big George; or, The Five Outlaw Brothers, 71 Captain Cool Blade: or, Mississippi Man Shark. 67 The Boy Jocixey; or, Elonesty vs. Crookedness, 50 Jack Rabbit, the Prairie Sport. BW Wl, G. PATTEN, 810 Fire-fiya, the Thug’s Terror. 7% Oh Nicht-Hawk, the Crook Shadower. 768 The Pria‘e of New York Crooks, 756 Old Burke, the Medison Square Detective, 747 Double-voide Dan's Doubl: Disguise. 715 Double-Voice Dan on Deck. %62 Double-Voice Dan, the Always-on-Deck Detective 396 Double-Voice Dan, the Go-it Alone Detective, 689 Tho Sparkter Sharp. 678 Hurricane Hal, the Cowboy Hotspur. 669 Oid True Blue, the Trusty. 6638 The Giant Sport; or, Sold to Satan. 066 Old Plug Usly, the Rough and Ready, 648 Gold Glove Gid, the Man of Grit, 641 Azgiec Jack, the Desert Nomad. 631 Goionel Cool, the Santa Fe Sharp, 602 Captain Nameless. the Mountain Mystery. 71 Old Dismal, the Range Detective. $45 Hustier Harry, the Cowboy Sport. BY GEORGE OC, JENBS. 910 The Arizona Detective. 894 Silver Sam. thé Shasta Sport, 880 ‘The Silver Sport’s Double. 863 The Race-Course Detective. 856 The Hayseed Detective. 772 Captain Corden, the Twister Detective. 156 Wild Pete the Broncho-Buster Detective. 726 Foarless Sam, the Grand Combination Detective, 719 Boston Bob, the Sport Detective, 672 Jaunty Joe, the Jockey Detective, 654 Mad Stihrp, the Rustler 688 Rube Rocket, the Tent Detective. 626 Death-Grip, the Tenderfoot Detective 507 The Drummer Detective. 3 The Giant Horseman Sleepless Eye, the Pacific Detective, the BY WILLIAM R, EYSTER, 916 Two Dead-Square Sports. 902 Soft Velvet, the Man from Sandrock. 891 Genteel Jim, Sport-at-Large, 881 The Clubman-Crook’s Cat’s-paw. 867 The Frisco Sport. 852 The Stranger Sport’s Shake-up. 828 Kirk King, the Man from Kirby. 818 Gentleman Dave, the Dead Game Sport 783 The King-Pin Tramp. 767 The Sport of Silver Bend. 718 Uncie Bedrock’s Big Bounce, 70? The Rival Rovers. 687 Double Cinch Dan, the Sport With a Charm. 677 Mr. Jackson, the Gent from Jaybird. 659 Gilt-Edge Johnny; or, Roldan and His Rovers, 650 Lucky Lester’s Lone Hand, 634 Old Handecart’s Big Dump. 622 The All Around Sports, 603 Desert Alf, the Man With the Cougar. 590 Gentle Jack, the High Roller from Humbug, 578 Seven Shot Steve, the Sport with a Smile. 568 The Dude Detective. 558 Hurrah Harry, the High Horse from Halcyon. 549 Belshazzar Brick, the Bailiff of Blue Blazes. 533 Oregon, the Sport With aSecar. 503 The Dude from Denver. 478 Pinnacle Pete; or, The Fool from Way Back. 459 Major Sunshine, the Man of Three Lives, 429 Hair Trigger Tom of Red Bend. 402 Snapshot Sam; or, The Angels’ Mat Racket, 396 The Piper Detective; or, The Gilt Kdge Gang. 375 Royal George, the Taree in One, 856 Thre Handsome Sports; or, The Combination, 333 Derringer Dick, the Man with the Drop, 268 Magic Mikes. ~he Man of Frills. 229 Captain Cufsteeve; or, The Little Sport. 214 The Two Cool Sports; or, Gertie of the Guich. 182 Hands Up; or, The Knights of the Canyon, 160 Soft Hand, Sharp; or, The Man with the Sand. 145 Pistol Pards; or, TheBSilent Sport from Cinnabar BY NED BUNTLINE, 657 Long Tom, the Privateer. 633 The Sea Spy. The Red Privateer; or, The Midshipman Rover. 584 Fire Feather, the Buecaneer ‘King. 517 Buffalo Bill's First Trail. 361 Tombstone Dick, the Train Pilot. 122 Saul Sabberday, the Idiot Spy. 111 The Smuggier Captain; or, The Skipper’s Crime, 18 The Sea Bandit; or, The Queen of the Isle. 16 The White Wizard; or, The Seminole Prophet. BY JACKSON KNOX—* Old Hawk.” 838 Old Grips Still Hunt, 827 Detective Walden’s Web. 778 The Butler Detective; or, Old Grip’s Grip 77) The Showman Dete tive. 762 Old Grip, the Detective, 740 Captsin Clew, the Fighting Detective. 732 The Hurricane Detéctive, 643 Castlemaine, the Silent Sifter. } Magnus, the Weird Detective. 606 The Drop Detective. 595 Wellborn, the Upper Crust Detective, 582 Joram, the Detective Expert, 574 Old Falcon’s Double. 561 The Thug King; or, The Falcon Detective’s Foe. 548 Falconbridge. the Sphinx Detective. 536 Old Falcon's Foe; or, The Detective’s Swell Job, 515 Short-Stop Maje, the Diamond Field Detective. 509 Old Falcon, the Thunderbolt Detective. 501 Springsteel Steve, the Retired Detective, 494 The Detective's Spy. 485 Rowlock. the Harbor Detective. 7 Dead-arm Branat, / Mainwaring. the Salamander. 462 The Cizcus Detective. 451 Griplock, the Rocket Detective, 444 The Magic Detective; or, The Hidden Hand, 424 Hawk Heron’s Deputy. 886 Hawk Heron. the Falcon Detective, BY J. ©, COWDRICK. 752 The Suspect Sport of Daisy Drift. 626 Ducats Dion, the Nabob Sport Detective. 612 Sheriff Stillw ood, the Regulator of Raspberry. 598 The Dominie Detective. 591 Duke Daniels, the Society Detective. 580 Shadowing a Shadow. 565 Prince Paul, the Postman Detective, 557 The Mountain Graybeards; or, Riddles’ Riddle. 519 Old Riddles, the Rocky Ranger 499 Twilight Charlie, the Road Sport. 72 Gilbert of Gotham, the Steel-arm Detective, 452 Rainbow Rob, the Tulip from Texas, 436 Kentucky Jean, the Sport from Yellow Pine, 422 Blue Grass Burt, the Gold Star Detective, 890 The Giant Cupid; or’Cibuta John’s Jubilee, BY EDWARD WILLETT, 483 Flush Fred, the River Sharp. 368 The Canyon King; or. a Price on his Head, 848 Dan Dillon, King of Crosscut. 837 Old Gabe, the Mountain Tramp, $27 Terrapin Dick, the Wildwood Detective. 815 Flush Fred's Double; or, The Squatters’ League 808 Hemlock Hank, Touch and True, 298 Loeger Lem: or, Lite in the Pine Woods, 289 Plush Fred’s Full Hand, 274 Flush Fred, the Mississipni Sport. 248 Montana Nat, the Lion of Last Chance Camp. 22) Bill the Blizzard; or. Red Jack's Crime. 209 Buck Farley: the Bonanza Prince. 129 Mississippi Mose; or, a Strong Man’s Sacrifice. BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. 237 The White Squaw, 234 The Hunter’s Feast. 213 The Wild Wuntress; or, The Squatter. 200 The Rifle Rangers; or. Adventures in Mexico. 74 The Captain of the Rifles; or, The Lake Queen, 66 The Specter Barque. A Tale of the Pacific. 65 The Scalp Hunters. A Romance of the Plains, BEADLE'*]| )IME*|[IBRARY. Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten. Cents. No Double NumBera. —* BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHARE. 911 The Blue Blockader; or, Tho Coast Graykhound. 906 The Cuban Criuser, 854 The Ocean Gipsy. 834 The Wild Steer Riders; or, Texas Jack’s Ferrory 810 The Rival Monte Cristos, 805 The Last of che Pirates; or, Docm Drivem 801 The Water Wolves’ Detective; or, Frapypiag the Grave Ghouls, The Coast-Raider’s Death Chase, 748 Arizona Chartie, the Crack-shot Detective. 704 Invisible Ivan, the Wizard Detective, 685 The Red-skin Sea Rover. 679 Revello, the Pirate Cruiser; or, The Rival Rovers 672 The Red Rapier; or, The Seca Rover’s Brida 662 The Jew Detective; or, The Beautiful Conyiet, 640 The Rover’s Ret ibuticn. 635 The Ex-Buccaneerr; or, The Stigma of Sky 625 Red Wings; or, The Gold Seekers of the Bahamas, 615 The Three | uccaneers. 610 The Red Flag Rover; or, White Wings of the Deep, 605 The Shadow Silver Ship. 600 The Silver Ship; or, The Sea Scouts of "7& 593 The Sea Rebel; or. Red Rovers of the Revolation, 587 Conrad, the Sailor Spy; or, True Hearts of 76, 581 The Outlawed Skipper; or, The Gantlet Raaner, 560 The Man from Mexico, 5543 Ma. * Monte, the Mutineer; or, The Brande@ Brig, 546 ‘Tks Doomed Whaler: or, The Life Wreem, * 530 The Savages of the Sea, 524 The Sea Chaser; or, The Pirate Noble, 510 El Moro, the Corsair Commodore. 493. The Scouts of the Sea. 457 The Sen Insurgent: or, The Conspirator pn, 446 Ucean Ogre, the Outcast Corsair, 435 The One-Armed buccaneer. Z 430 The Fatal Frigate; or, Rivals in Love aud Waa 899 The New Monte Cristo, 893 The Convict Captian. ° 877 Afloat and Ashore; or, The Coreair Gonspirator, 369 The Coast Corsair: or, The Siren of the Bea 864 The Sea Fugitive: or, The Queen of tne Goast. 341 The Sea Desperado, 336 ‘he Magic Ship; or, Sandy Hook Freebooterg. 325 The Gentleman Pirate; or, The Casco Hermits, 318 The Indian buccaneer;: or, The Red Rovers, 307 The Phantom Pirate; or. Phe Water Wolves 255 The Pirate Priest; or, The Gambler's rete, ae 246 Queen Helen, the Amazon of the Overlan¢ 235 Red Lightning the Man of Chance. 224 Black Beard, the Buccaneer, 220 The Specter Yacht; or, A Brother’s Grime, 210 Buceaneer Bess, the Lioness of the Sea, 205 The Gambler Pirate; or, Lady of the Lagépm. 198 The Skeleton Schooner; or, The Skimme# 184 The Scarlet Schooner: or. The Sea Nemeosik. Montezuma, the Merciless. 103 Merle, the Mutineer; or, The Red Ancho# Brand, BY PHILIP S&S. WARNE. 802 Dan Dirk, King of No Man’s Land. 583 Captain Adair, the Cattle King, 7 Captain Midnight, the Man of Craft, 544 The Back to Back Pards. §22 The Champion Three. 502 Bareback Buck, the Centaur of the Piatne, 472 Six Foot Si; or, The Man to “ Tie Ta,” California Kit, the Always on Hand, 404 Silver Sid; or, A “ Daisy ” Bluff. a 380 Ticer Dick’s Pledge: or, Tne Golden Serpent, 359 Yellow Jack, the Mestizo. 3388 Jack Sands, the Boss of the Town, 299 Tnree of a Kind; or, Dick, Despard an@theéport. Tiger Dick vs. [ron Despard. 207 Old Hard Head: or, Whirlwind and# his Sfare. 171 Tiger Dick, the Man of the fron Heart. 114 The Gentleman from Pike. 80 A Man of Nerve; or, Caliban the Dwarf. 54 Always on Hand; or, The Poot-Hiils Spork 29 Tiger Dick, Faro Kivg; or, The Cashier's rime, 4 The Kidnapper; or, The Northwest Sh ak BY CAPTAIN MARK WILTQM, sa 323 Hotspur Hugh; or, The Banded Brotheré, Heavy Hand; or, The Marked Men, 805 Silver-Plated Sol, the Montana Rover. Horseshoe Hank, the Man of Big Luck, 285 Lightning Bolt, the Canyon Terror, 276 Texa* Chick. the Southwest Detective, 271 Stonefist, of Big Nugget Bend. 266 Leopard Luke, the King of Horse-Thieves 263 Iron-Armed Abe, the Hunchback Destroyer Bullet Head, the Colora’o Bravo, 237 Long-Haired Max; or, The Black League, 227 Buckshot Ben, the Man-Hunter of Idaho 223 Canyon Dave, the Man of the Mountain, 219 The Scorpion Brothers; or, Mad Toms Miigsion 202 Cactus Jack, the Giant Guide. Don Sombrero. the California Road Gen ady Jaguar, thé Robber Queen. BY OLL COOMES. Kit Bandy & Co , the Border Detectives 148 One-Armed Alf, the Giant Hunter. 99 The Giant Rifleman: or, Wild Camp Edge, 43 Dakota Dan, the Reckless Ranger, BY COL. TROMAS H, MONSTERY, 236 Champion Sam; or, The Monarchsof thefinow, 150 El Rubio Bravo, King of the Swordsmen, BY DER. NOEL DUNBAR, 919 The Sea Seout; or, The Patriot Privatees. 886 The King of Crooks, 858 Number One, the Dead-set Detective. 850 The Planter Detective. 730 Duke Despard, the Gambler Duelist, 604 The Detective in Rags; or, The Grim Simdowan 500 The True-Heart Pards, 4 new issue every Wednesday Beadle’s Dime Library is for sate i Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, er senkbgymall ey receipt of twelve cents ear’ 791
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BREADLE'’S*| )IME*]IBRARY. Petblished and Sold at t BUFFALO BILL NOVELS. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, 994 Buffalo Bill's Lone Hand. 989 Buffalo Bill’s Marked Bullet, $84 Buffalo Bill’s Life Raffle. 979 Buffalo Bill’s Relentless Trail. 964 Buffa'o Biil’s Invincibles. 960 Buffalo Bill’s Blue Belt Brigade. 956 Baffalo Bill's Volunteer Vigilantes. 950 Buffalo Bill at Bay. 943 Buffalo Bill’s Block Game. 936 Buffalo Bill s Black Para. 927 Buffalo Bill’s Bluff; or, Dusky Dick the Sport. 921 Buffalo Bill’s Quandary; or, Velvet Bill’s Vow. 915 Buffalo Bill and the Surgeon-Scout. 909 Baffalo Bill’s League; or, Red Butterfly. 904 Buffalo Bill’s Tangled Trail. 909 Buffalo Bill’s Rough Riders. 895 Buffalo Bill's Secret Ally. 890 Beffalo Bill’s Life-Stake. 882 The Three Bills: Buffalo Bill Wild Bill and Band- box Bill; or, The Bravo in Broadcloth, 874 Buffalo Hill’s Buckskiv Braves. 869 Buffalo Bill’s Road-Agent Round-up. 863 Buffalo Bill's Death Charm. 857 Daffalo Bill's Royal Flush. 851 Buffalo Bill's Double Dilemma, 845 Bill’s Redskin Ruse, Bill's Bovs in Blue. Bill’s Sharp-Shooters. Bill's Best wer, Bi'J'’s Red Trail. Bill’s Death-Knell, Bill's Winning Hand Biil’s Dead Shot, Bills Brand. Bill's Spy Shadower. 769 Buffalo Bill’s Sweepstake. 763 Baffalo Bill's Dozen; or, Silkk Ribbon Sam. 761 Beftalo Bill’s Mascot. 757 Buffalo Biil’s Double. 750 Buffalo Bill’s Big Four; or, Custer’s Shadow. 743 Buffalo Bill's Flush Hand. 739 Buffalo Bill's Blind: or, The Masked Driver. 35 Buffalo Bill and His Merry Men. 731 Buffalo Bill’s Beagles: or, Silk Lasso Sam, $27 Buffalo Bill’s Body Guard. 722 Buffalo Bill on the War-path. 716 Buffalo Bill’s Scout Shadowers. 710 Buffalo Bill Baffled: or. The Deserter Desperado. 697 Buffalo Lill’s Buckskin Brotherhood, 691 Buffalo Bill’s Llind Trail; or, Mustang Madge. 667 Buffalo Bill's Swoop; or, The King of the Mines, 658 The Cowbov Clan; or, The Tigress of Texas, 653 Lasso King’s League; or, Buck Taylor in Texas. 649 Buffalo Bill's Chief of Cowboys; or, Buck Taylor 644 Buffalo Bill’s Ponanza; or, Si ver Circle Knights, 362 Buffalo Bili’s Grip; or, Cath Bound to Custer. 829 Buffalo Bill’s Piedge: or, The League of Three. 189 Wild Bill's Gold Trail; or, The Desperate Dozen. 175 Wild Bill’s Trump Card: or, The Indian Heiress, 168 Wild Bill, the Pistol Dead Shot, By Buffalo Bill, 973 The Dread Shot Four 969 ‘Yexas Jack, the Lasso King 839 The Ranch King Dead-Shot. 820 White Beaver ’s Still Hunt. 807 Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist. 800 Wild Bilt, the Deaa-Center Skot. €39 Buffalo Bill's Gold King, 599 The Dead Shot Nine; or, My Pards of the Plains, 414 Red Renard, the Indian Detective. 401 One-Armed Parad; or, Borderland Retrfbution. 897 The Wizard Brothers: or, White Beaver’s Trail. 894 White Beaver, the Exile of the Platte. 319 Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. 304 Texas Jack, the Prairie Rattler. ; 243 The Pilgrim Sharp: or, The Soldier's Sweetheart, 83 Gold BulletSnorr; or, Knights of the Overland. 62 Death-Traiier, the Chief of Scouts. 816 Buffalo 812 Buffalo 794 Buffalo 787 Buffalo 781 Buffalo 77? Buffalo By Leon Lewis, Ned Buntliine, cte. f/f” ,(4 Buffalo Bill’s Ban; or, Cody to the Rescue. 682 Buffalo Bill’s Seerct Service Trail. 629 Buffalo Bill’s Daring Role; or, Daredeatb Dick. 517 Buffalo Bi'l’s First Trail; or, The Express Rider. 163 Buffalo Bill, Chief cf Scouts. 117 Buffalo Bill s Strange Pard; or, Dashing Dandy. 92 Buffalo Bill, the Buckskin King. BY HAROLD PAYNE, 883 ‘The Man from Mexico in New York. $72 Tho King-Pin Shark; or, Thad Burr's Ten Strike, 861 The Tenderloin Big Four 853 The Quaker City Crook. 844 Tracked to Chicago. 836 The Policy Broker’s Blind. 829 Tho Frisco Sharper’s Cool Hand. §21 The Tramp Shadower’s Backer. $13 The Sham Spotter’s Shrewd Scheme. 806 The Grand Street Gold-Dust Sbarpers. 798 Detective Burr’s Luna‘ ic Witness 792 The Wall Street Sharper’s Snap. 784 Thad Burr’s Death Drop. [42 Detective Burr Among the New York Thugs. 734 Detective Burr's Foil; or, A Woman’s Strategy. 728 Detective Burr, the Headquarters Special. 718 Detective Burr's Spirit Chase. 706 Detective Burr’s Seven Clues. 698 Thad Burr, the Invincible; or, The “L"’ Clue, 690 The Matchless Detective. 689 XX. the Fatal Clew; or, Burr’s Master Case. BY COL. TROMAS H. MONSTERY, 99 The Ozar’s Spy." 986 Iron Wrist, the Swordmaster. 286 Champion Sam; or. The Monarchs of the Show, 150 FE) Rubio Bravo, King of the Swordsmen. BY J W. OSBON. OW Gtmdrach, the Sport Detective. 922 Gilbert Scam od the Dandy Sport. 905 Shasta Sam, the kparkier. $7 Cool Creede, the Dead-Shot. be} from St. Louis. le Number. 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, 859 Clew-Hawk Keene’s Right Bower. 847 Hiram Hawk, the Harlem Detectiva, 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. 788 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 Strong Arm Detective. 711 Dan Damon, the Gilt-Rdge Detective. 701 Silver Steve, the Branded Sport. $94 Gideon Grip, the Secret Shadower. 684 Velvet Van, the Mystery Shadower. 678 The Dude Desperado 371 Jason Clew, the Silk-Handed Ferret. 664 Monk Morel, the Man-Hunter. 654 Sol Sphinx, the Ferret Detective, 642 Red Pard and Yellow. 608 Silent Sam, the Shadow Sphinx, 592 ara 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. 548 The Magnate Detective. 532 Jacx Javert. the Independent Detective. 523 Reynard of Red Jack: or, The Lost Detective 512 Captain Velvet’s Big Stake. 505 Phil Fox. the Genteel Spotter, 496 Riphard Redfire. the Two Worlds’ Detective, 487 Stnsbine Sam, a Chip of the Old Block, 480 Hawkspear. the Man with a Secret. 458 Coldgrip in Deadwood, 460 Captain Coldgrip, the Detective 453 Captain Coldgrip’s Long Trail. 447 Voicano, the Frisco Spy. 441 The California Sharp, 434 Lucifer Lynx, the W onder Detective. 421 Father Ferret, the Frisco Shadow. 413 Captain Coldgrip in New York. 407 Captain Coldgrip’s Nerve; or. Injun 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 Two Cities. 365 Keen Kennard, the Shasta Shadow. 352 The Desperate Dozen, 847 Denver Duke, the Man with “Sand.” 840 Cool Conrad, the Dakota Detective. 335 Flash Dan, the Nabob, or, Blades of Bowie Bar, 821 California Claude, the Lone Bandit, 294 Broadcloth Burt. the Denver Dandy. 941 The Shadow Sport from Frisco. BW WILLIAM H. MANNING, 948 The Red-Gloved Detective. 931 Frisco Frank at Glory Gulch. 920 The Montana Miner in New York, 908 The Doomsday-Den Detective. 899 The Double-Quick Detective. 893 Yellow Gid, of Dark Divide, 885 ‘The Expert Detective’s Shake-up, 875 Trapping the Race-Track Judge. 864 The Police Special’s Dilemma. 849 The Genteel Sharper’s Combine 841 Graydon’s Double Deal. 833 The Sport Detective’s G i 8243 The Athlete Sport About Town. 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 Breaket. 714 Gabe Gall, the Gambolier from Great Hump, 703 Spokane Saul, the Samaritan Suspect 692 Dead Shot Paul, the Deep-Range Ex 655 Strawberry Satn, the Man with the 646 Dark John, the Grim Guard, 638 Murdock, the Dread Detective. 623 Dangerons Dave, the Never-Beaten Detective, 611 Alkali Abe, the Game Chicken from Texas. 596 Rustler Rube; the Round-Up Detective, 585 Dan Dixon's Double. 57o Steady Hand, the orer, irthmark. Napoleon Dick Talbot Series, 991 Dick Talbot at the Mines: or, Kentuck, the Sport. of Detectives | 568 Wyoming Zeke, the Hotspur of Honeysuckle. | 551 Garry 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, 518 Texas Tartar, the Man With Nine Lives. 506 Uncle Honest, the !eacemaker of Hornets’ Nest. ' 498 Central Pacific Paul, the Mail Tram Spy. 492 Border Bullet, the Prairie Sharpshooter. 486 Kansas Kitten, the Northwest Detective. 479 Gladiator Gabe, the Samson of Sassajack. 470 The Duke of Daixota. 463 Gold Gauntlet. the Guleh Gladiator, 455 Yank Yellowbird, the Tall Hustler of the Hills, 449 Bluff Burke, King of the Rockies. 442 Wild West Walt, the Mountain Veteran 437 Deap Duke; or, The Man of Two Lives. 427 The Rivals of Montana Mill 415 Hot Heart, the Detective Spy. 405 Old Baldy the Brigadier of Buck Basin. 247 Colorado Rube, the Strong Arm of Hotspur. 279 The Gold Dragoon, er, California Bloodhound. BY NED BUNTLINE. 657 Long Tom, the Privateer. 633 The Sea Spy, 621 The Red Privateer; or, The Midshipman Rover. 584 Fire Feather, the Buccaneer King. 617 Buffalo Bill’s First Trail. 861 Tombstone Dick, the Train Pilot. 122 Saul Sabberday, the Idiot § 111 The Smuggler Captain; or, 18 The Sea Bandit; or, The Qu e Isle. 16 The White W: * ar The he , The skipper 's Crime, ; 1001 4009 | 1003 988 Rocky Mountain Reb 976 Overland Kit; or, The Idy]l of White Pine. 741 Dick Lalbot’s Close Call. 737 Dick Talbot in Apache lend. 733 Dick Talbot, the Runch King. 729 Dick Talbot's Clean-Out. 725 Dick Talbot in No Msan’s Camp, 354 Dick Talbot; 01, The Brana ot Crinison Grose 86 Dick Talbot; or, The Death-Shot of Shasta, Aiken’s Fresh of Frisco Series, 825 Fresh, the Race-Track Sport. 660 The Fresh in Montana; or, Blake's Full Hada. 652 The Fresh’s Rustie at Painted City. 647 The Fresh at Santa Fe; or, The Stranger Sharp. 556 Fresh, the Sport: or, The Big Racket at Side Out. 537 Fresh Against the Field: or, Blake, the Lien. 497 The Fresh in Texas; or, The Escobedo Miliifons. 461 The Fresh of Frisco on the Rio Grande. 97 The Fresh in Big Walnut Camp; or, Bronze Jack Aiken's Joe Phenix Series. 965 Joe Phenix’s Mascot. 959 Joe Phenix’s Double Deal. 954 Joe Phenix in Chicago. 949 The Doctor from Texas; or, Joe Phenix’s Olue. 944 Joe Phenix’s Right Bower. 865 The Female Barber Detective; or, Joe Phemix in Silver City. 799 Joe Phenix’s Great Blue Diamond Case; or; The New York Sport at Long Branch. 793 Joe Rhenix’s Decoy; or, The Man of Three, 760 Joe Phenix’s Lone Hand, 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 Unknown; or, Crushing the Orooks 681 Joe Phenix’s Specials; or, The Actress Deteotive 637 Joe Phenix in Crazy Camp. 632 Joe Phenix'’s Master Search. 628 Joe Phenix’s Combin*;cr,the Dandy Conspirator 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 Detective; or, The League. 79 Joe Phenix, the Police Spy. Aiken’s Mise cllancous Novels, 980 The All-Around Athlete. $40 Captain Jack, the Scalper 935 The Hawks and Wolves of New York 932 Detective Gordon’s Grip. 926 Old Sunflower, the Silent Smiter. 923 Old Sunflower, the Hayseed Detective, 901°The Hotel Swell-Sharp; cr, The Siren Shedoweer, 892 The Country man Detective. 876 Gold Button Sport; or, The Miner Sharps, 842 Teton Tom, the Half-blood. 835 The King-Pin Detective. 814 The New Yorker Among Texas Sports. 775 King Dandy, the Silver Sport. 753 Gideon’s “ah, at Babylon Var. 717 Captain Pat McGowen, the Greencoat Deteetive, 674 Uncle Sun Up, the Born Detective. 670 The Lightw eight Detective. 665 Tne Frisco Detective; or, The Golden G ste Pind, 613 Keen Billy, the Sport. 607 Old Benzine, the “ Hard Case” Detective. 594 Fire Face, the Silver King’s Foe. 585 The Silver Sharp Detective. 577 Tom, of Calif crma; or, Detective’s Shadow Act. 570 The Actress Detective; or, The Invisible Mand 562 Lone Hand, the Shadow, 520 The Lone Hand on the Caddo. 490 The Lone Hand in Texas. : 475 Chin Chin, the Chinese Detective, 465 The Actor Detective. The High Horse of the Pacific. The Lone Hand; or, The Red River Recreants. Doe Grip, the Vendetta of Death. The Gypsy Gen tleman: cr. Nick Fox, Deteetive } Black Beards; o1. The Rio Grande High Horse The Dusky Detective: or, Pursued to the End. 3 Crowningshield, the Detective $20 The Genteel Spotter: or The N. Y. Night Hawk. 252 The Wali Street Ilood; or, The Telegrarh Girl. %3 The Double Detective; or, The Midnight Mystery, 5 La Marmoset, the Letective Queen. The Man from New York. The Winning Oar: or. The Innkeever’s Dangbter, Hunted Down: or, The League of Three. The Human Tiger: or, A Heart of Fire. + Gentleman George: or, Parlor. Prison and ‘Street. 72 The Phantom Hand: or, The 5th Avenue Herress, 56 The Indian Mazeppa: or, Madman of the Plains. 49 The Wolf Demon; or. The Kanawha Queen. 42 The California Detective: or, The Witches of N.Y, 81 The New York Sharp; or, The Flash of Lightning. 27 The Spotter Detective: or, Girls of New York, NEW ISSUES. Buffalo Bill’s Grim Guard. By Col, Ingraham, The Brand-Burvers of Cimarron. By John W. Osbon, Silver City Sam. By Jos. E. Badger. Gold Dan; or, Dick Talbot in Utah. W. Aiken 1004 Buffalo Bill’s Death Deal. By Col. Ingraham. 1005 Foot-Hills Frank. By Jos. E, Badger. 1000 By Albert |} 1006 The Sea Cadet. By Col. P. Ingrabam. |.997 Hotspur Hal, the Sport*from Hard Luck. | JUST ISSUED. 996 Injun Dick, the Shasta Dead Shot, By Aiken. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. - TE eae eee petibe ite Grip of lngae Dick, By Albert W. Aiken. A new issue every Wednesday. THE PIME LIBRARY is for sate by all Newsdealers, tan cents vet copy or sent by mali on receipt of price. Te. =. . se “PE Uo Men ot, Bee
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BEADLE’S«H ALF- DIME* LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Eetth Issue Complete and Sold at the BY OLL COOMES. 146 Kit Bandy, Detective; or, Silver Star, the Boy Knight. 168 Kit Bandy tn Texas; or, The Young Mustanger. 208 Kit Bandy’s Catch; or, The Boy Hercules. 422 Kit Bandy’s Right Bower; or, Baby Sam,the Boy Giant 444 Kit Bandy’s Swoop; or, Little Buckskin, toe Centaur. 47% Kit Bandy’s Slick Scheme; or, Old Tom Rattler, 661 Kit Bandy’s Deliverance; or, Banner Bsn. 680 Kit Bandy’s Pard; or, Dauntless Dan, the Freelance. 791 Kit Bandy Rattledy; or, The Infant Giant. 1795 Kit Bandy in Red Rutn; or, The Young Whirlwind. ‘799 Kit Bandy’s Big Ruste; or, Saddle King Sam, ‘804 Kit Bandy’s Brigade; or, Dan, the Mountain Guide 927 Kid Pandy’s Brigade tn Arizona, 989 hit Bandy’s Star Engagement. '958 Jack Prew, the Nemesis: or, Eagle Kit_ the Roy Demon. 82 Jack Drew's Drop; or, Little Hurricane, the Boy Captain, 202 Jack Drew In Deadwood; or, Prospect Pete, 27 Keen Knife on Guard; or, Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide | 81 Keen-Knife, the Prince of the Prairies. ' §& Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew, 18. The Dumb Spy. 41 Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. 58 The Border King; of, The Secret Fga, 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy, 74 Hawk-eye Harry the Young Trapper Ranger, 88 Role, the Boy Ranger; or, The Heiress 184 Sure Shet Seth, the Poy Rifleman, 148 Sear-F ace Saul, the Silent Hunter, 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. 218 Tiser Tom, the Texas Terror, 224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castia, 228 Little Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger, The Disgulaed Guide; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, Pare-DPevil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger. Minkekin Mike, the Boy Sharpshdoter. Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy; or, Old Caleb Arbockla, The Sky Demon; or, Rainbolt, the Ranger. Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero. Hercules; wr, Dick, the Boy Ranger. Webfoot Mose, the Tramp Detective. Wingedfoot Fred ; or, Old Polar Saul. Tamarae Tom, the Big Trapper Boy, 2 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan. Biundering Baaill, the Hermit Boy Trappow Don Barr, the Plains Freelance, Norway Nels, the Big Boy Mountaineer. Highland Harry, the Wizard Rifleman. Poker Jack, the Detective Sport. BY T. J. FLANAGAN, 909 Midshipman Dare, the Pirate Catcher 925 The Young Cowboy Captain. 983 The Two Midshipmen; or, The) Corsair-Chaser’s First Cralse. 778 8238 BY DAN DUNNING, 46 Gates Sack, the Secret Service Spy. 627 Mac and Jack, the Invincibles; or, The Diabotical Three, * 875 Detective Dave’a Close Call, 884 Farrel Fox and Mis Girl ferret. $98 Farrel. Fox’s Sweep-Stakes. ! BY GEORGE ©, JENKS. 485 Git Thor Owney the Unknown. / 492 Git Thar Owney’s Pledge. 518 The Demon Doctor; or, Dendholi, the Kid Detective, 681 Double-Curve Dan, the Pitcher Detective. 59s Flute, tie Singer Detective; or, Owney in a New Role, 608 The Pitcher Detective’s Fofls or, Dan’s Double Play, 616°The Ocean Detectives or, The Last Cruise ofthe Black Bear, 681 The Pitcher Detective’sa Tonghest Tusale, 786 Larry the Thoroughbred; or, Beaten on Every Side. 779 Lron Mand, the Charmed Detective 854 Uncle Sam’s Detective in Chicago. BY WM. G. PATTEN. 629 Violct Vane, the Velvet Sport; or, The Jubilee of Jacktown 66% Violet Vane’s Victory; or, The Jasper City Clean Out. €98 Violct and Dalay, the Posy Pardes. Violet Vane’s Vow; or, The Crafty Detective’s Craft. ‘lolet Vane’s Vengeance; or, The Wipe-Out, ‘Nolet Vane’s Verdlet; or, The Game at Coffin City. ‘iolet Vane, the Ventriloquist Vidocq; or, Sport vs, Sport. Violet Vane, the Vanquished, or, The Life Stragg'e. Violet Vane’s Vislon; or, The Fiery Hand of Fate. 9 The Diamond Sport; or, The Double Face of Bed Rock, 9 ay ager Myster y 3 or, Five in One, 1 Dalay thare the Sport from Denver. 7 Old Bombshell, the Ranger Detective. 4 heron Fern, the Men of Fire: or, Among the Vultures, 9 Che Boy Tramp Detective: or, The Doubie Grip Witness Diamal Pave’s Dandy Pardys or, The Clue to Capt, Claw Bound Boy F rank, the Young Amateur Detective a Vuleany the Lone-Range Rider, 4 Old Misery the Man from Missouri. 4 Clear-Grit Gal, tho Never-Say-Die Detective. 9 Sam Sheridan, the Secret Service Special, & Cowboy Steve the Ranch Mascot, 0 Nebby Nat, the Tenderfoot Detective. 886 Sharper Stoke’s Double Deal. S57 Spotter Bobin New York. 866 Spotter Bob’s Bowery Racket. BY COLONEL DELLE SARA, 433 The Lion of the Sea; or, The Vailed Lady. 6 Cool Deamond; or, The Gambler's Big Game, | BY CAPTAIN FRED. WILITTAKER, | 15 The Sea-Cat; or, The Witch of Darien. | 29 The Dumb Page} or, The Doge’s Deughter. 48 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. a Lance and Lasse}: or, The Children of the Chaco. 54 The Sword Hunters ; or, The Land of the Elephant Riders 159 The Lost Captainy or, Skipper Jabez Coffin’s Cralse. 200 The Boy Bedoutns; or, The Brothers of the Plamed Lance 214 Wolfgang, the Robber of the Rhine. 249 Milo Romer the Animal King; er, Round the World, 265 The Peer Tamer}; or, The League of the Jangle. 881 Black Nick, the Demon Rider. 895 ifornia Joe’s War Trail. : BY CAPT. J. F. ©. ADAMS, {84 Oregon Sol; or, Nick Whiffles’s Boy Spy. 146 Glaass-Eye, the Great Shot of the West. Ned Hazel, the Boy Trapper. 56 Nick Whiffles’s Pet; or, In The Valley of Death, $3 The White Indfan; or, The Scovt of the Yeilowstena 0 Old Zip’s Cabin; or, The Greenhorn in the Woods. ae eeete ng Jo, the Terror of the Prairie. z il = < mews eons << Led! ck ed eee eonee ee eee on et Fe Ll 71 uck Buekram ¢ or, Bess, the Female Trapper, ld Grizzly and His Peta; or, The Wild Huntress. ht-house Lige} or, Osceola, the Firebrand. e Lost Hunters; or, The Underground Canf Sealp King; or, The Human Thunderso¥ BY T, C. HARBAUGH, 8 Nick o the Night; or, The Boy Spy of ’76. ? The Hidden Lodge} or The Little Hunter. 7 Nightingale Nat ; or, Tne Forest Captains, 4.Dandy Jack 3 or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trait. 2 Kit HMarefoct, the Wood-Hawk; or, Old Powder-face, 94 Midnight Jack; or, The Boy Trapper. 106 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 128 Klowa Charley the White Mustanger. 189 Judge Lynch Jr.i or, The Boy Vigiante. 155 Gold Trigger, the Sport; or, The Girl Avenger. 169 Tornado Toms or, Injun Jack From Red Core. 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy; or, The Mad Hunter. 198 Arkancaw ; or, The Queen of Fate’s Revenge. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 15 Captain Bullet; or, Little Tovknot’s Crusade. 81 Plucky Phil; or, Rom, the Rei Jezebel. Bull Bravos; or, The Roughs of the Rockies. Captain Apoli«s tne King-Pin of Bowle, The Kbuekskin Detectly wv, The King of Road-agents, Old Winch 3 or, The Buckskin Desperadoes. 94 Dynamite Dan: or, The Bowle Blade of Gochetopa. 62 The Meuntain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Bally, 816 Old Eelipse, Trump Card of Arizona, 826 The Ten Pardn; or, The Terror of Take-Notice, 886 Bie Benson; or, The Queen of the Lavao. 845 Pitiless Matt; or, Ked Thunderbolt’s Secret. B56 Cool Sam and Par‘; or The Terrible Six. 866 Velvct Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captatn Cutlass 3 or, | he Beecaneer’c Girl Foe. 896 Rough Roby or, The {win Champiens of Blue Blazes, 411 The Stiken Lasso; or, The Rosec Ranch Robin. 418 Felftx Fox, the Boy Spotter; or, The Gold Gang of New York, 425 Texas Trump. the Border Rattler. 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox; or, The Mystery of Room 21, 445 The City Vamptres; or, Ked Rolfe’s Pigeon. 461 One Against Fifty; or, The Last Man of Keno Bar. 470 The Boy Shadow: or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. A777 The Exceisior Sport; or, The Washington Spotter. 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Night Ferret. 512 Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective. 621 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge? or, ‘The Gotham Gold Gang, 528 Fox and Faicon, the Bowery Shadows. 88 Podger Dick, the Dock Ferret. 648 Dodger Pick’s Double; or, The Rival Boy Detectives, 558 Dodger Dick’« Deaperate Case, 5668 Dodger Dick. the Boy Vidocg; or, The Gang of Threes 678 The Two Shadows: or, Dodger Dick’s Stop Gane. 6S2 Dodger Dick’a Drop; or, The Mun from Jersey. 694 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. 610 Old Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sharp on Guard, 626 The Champion Pards; or, The Lucifer of Silver Bar, 687 Dick Doan, the Dock Roy Detective. 645 Kit, the Pavement Sharp, 658 Billy Bantam, the Boy Beagle. 671 Jersey Jed, the Boy Hustler; or, Shadowing the Shadower. 685 Happy Hugh, the Boy Musician Detective. TO1l Photograph Fred, the Camera Sharp. 715 Wide Awake Len, the Quaker City Ferret, TSS Daisy Dell, the Pavement Detective; or, Trapping Big Games cna eww eswewwew 742 Billy Winka, the Bell Boy Detective, 754 Billy Winks, the Boss Boy Shadow. 768 Eagle Ned, the Boy on Guard; or, The Camp Spidera, 780 Tonkaway Tom, the Red Wizard 827 The Bantam Sport. 848 Clip, the Battery Ferret}; or, once seatra Foul Play S97 Davy Doon’s Big Bounce. 905 Dandy Nugget, the Bo~ Shadow. 921 The Boy trom Denver. BY CHARLES MORRIS, 18 WHI Somers, the Boy Detective, 22 Phil Mardy, the Boss Boy. 6 Picayune Pete; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective 0 Detective Dick 3 or, The Hero tn Rags, Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred, Black Heas, Will Wildfire’s Racer. Mike Merry the Harbor Police Boy, Will Wildfire in the Wooda, Billy Bageage, the Railroad Boy. A Trump Card; or, Will Wildfire Winn and Loose Rob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York. 9 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, 188 The Hidden fhand; cr, Wil!) Wildfire’s Revenge. 187 Fred Ialyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smugglers, 189 Bob Rockett; or, Driven.to the Wall. 196 Shadowed ¢ or, Bob Kockett’s Fight for Lifes 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective, 220 Tom Tanner}; or, The Biack Sheep of the Flock. 285 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky. 5 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. The Two “* Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. Dick Dashaway ¢ or, A Dakota Boy In Chicago. 262 The Young Sharps: o:. Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail, 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jim’s Jobs or, The Young Detective, 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Thoroughored. Dashaway, of Dakota: or, A Western Lad in Quaker City, $24 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. 858 The Reporter-Detective ¢ or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard, VW ide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times. Larry, the Leveler: or, The Bloods of the Boulevard. Flreily Jack, the River-Rat Detective. The Loat linger zt, or, The Entrapped Cashier. Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. Invincible Lowan, the Pinkerton Ferret. Billy Brick, the Jolly Vaganond, Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or Entombed Alive, Detective Dodge? or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. Wild Dick Racket: or, How He Fought for Honor. Roots, the Boy Fireman: or, Too Sharp for the Sharper, The Secret “ervice Boy Detective, Jimmy the Kids or, A Lamb Among Wolves. Tom Bruce of Arkansast or, The Wolfin the Fold. 655 Plucky Paul, the Boy Spceulator. 667 Bob and Sam, the Daisy Detectives. 709 The Curbstone Petective;s or, Harry Hale’s Big Beat. 757 Detective Fran k’s sweep-stakes. 869 Ned Norman, the Gamin Broker, S81 Turkey Billy, the Shine-’em-up Detective, 917 Flash Lightning, the Mountain Mascot. BY ALRERT W. AIKEN, 11 The Two Detectives; or, The Fortunes ofa Bowery Girl. 76 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. 79 Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. 288 Joe Kuck of Angels and Hie Boy Pard. 447 New York Nat. A Tale of Tricks and Traps In Gotham. 458 New England Nicks or, The Fortunes of a Foundling. 46A Nimble Nick, the Circus Prince. A9QB Taos Ted, toe Arizona Sport. &10 Cool Colorado, the Hall-Breed Detective. 618 Cool Colorado in New York: or, The Cowboy's Figh# BY OAPT. ALFRED B. TAYLOR O. 8. A. 191 Buffalo Billy, the’ Boy Bullwhacker. 194 Buffalo Bill’s Bet; or, The Gambler Guide, SUSI ONO - re pow feed rh th rh Dre dh rh hc eh ph MIN ARUM MS we Swe Phe 0S EEE eT Sa cl tb ST RS ee OT ES TLS LOS Tian So a te aa SS RY ct RR EL ERMC PELE Whe i SENT SLD SSO Waa DO APS aE BUREN nO, deed Ro) Ee ae, Se a BN IB ER WE ke OS ne ee Unitorm Price of Five Cents, by all Newsdeatere, BY J. W. OSBON, 469 The Rival Giants of Nowhar’. 498 Cactus Burr, the Man from Hard Lack, Fi 587 Old Buckeye, the Sierra Shadow. ‘ 564 Powder. Phil, the Boy Miner; or, The Man Without a Pash 609 Bolly Dorrit, the Veteran Detective. 620 Little Lightning’s League; or, The Mystery o/ tne Island 688 Plucky Paul, the Boy Prospector. 751 Gold-Dust Dan, the Trail Patrol. 755 Gold Dust _Dan’s Gath; or, Reckless Roy, the Regulates 928 Gold-Dust Dan’s Snap-Shot. BY JOSEPH EE, BADGER, JR, 2 Yellowatone Jacky; or, The Trapper. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent; or, 1e Outlaw’s Retreat, 65 Uurricane Bill; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard, 119 Mustang Sam 3 or, The King of the Plains. 186 Night-Llawk Kit; or, The Daughter of the Ranch, 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 151 Panther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue, 160 The Black Glant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy, 168 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. 184 The Bey Trailers; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Pat. 208 The Boy Pardss or, Dainty Lance Unmasks. 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City. 810 The Barranca Woll’; or, The Beautiful Decoy, 819 The Black Rider; or, The Horse-Thieves’ Leagoa 8B5 Old Double Fist; or, The Strange Guide 855 The King of the Wooda: or, Danie) Boone’s Laat Tra 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. 625 Chincapin Dan, the Rey Trailer. 677 Chineapin Dan's Second Trall. 688 ChincapiIn Dan’s Home Stretch, 698 Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head, ~ TOS Light-lWeart Lute’s Legacy. 718 Light-tNeart Lute’« Last Trall. 728 Silverblade, the Shoshone, 729 Silverblade, the Half-Blood; or, The Border Beagle et Baga 789 Silverblade, the Hostile; or, The Border Beagle’s Traf, 748 Silverblade the Friendly; or, The Border Beagle’s Boy Peed BY ©. DUNNING CLARK. 185 Captain Paul; or, The Boy Spy of the Mountains, 280 Tho Yankee Rajahy or, The Fate of the Black Sheresh BY LIEUT. ll. PD. PERRY, U. 8, N. 176 The Boy Runaway; or, The Buccaneer of the Bag. 180 The Sea Traltler: or, A Vow Well Kept. 192 Captain Kit; or, The Mystery of Montauk Point, BY JACK FARRAGUT. 815 Ned, the Cabin Boy; or, The Witch of the Fork 820 The Sea Sorceress; or, The Boy Skipper. BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID, 78 Blue Dick; or, The Yellow Chief's Vengeance. {87 The Land Pirates; or, Tho League of Devil’s lelandy 187 The Helpless Hand; or, Backwoods Retribution. 289 The Gold-seeker Guide! or, The Lost Mountais, BY BRACEBRIDGE HEMYNG : R9 Taland Jims; or, The Pet of the Family. £91 The Captain of the Club; or, The Rival Athletes, 101 Jack Narkaway in New York. " MISCELLANEOTS AUTHORS, 4 The Wild-Iorse Hunters, By Capt. Mayne Reta and Frederick Whittaker. 9 Adventures of Boron Munchausen. 12 Guiliver’s Travel«. By Dean Swift. 14 Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp. 16 Robinson Crusoe. (27 Iilustrations.) 18 Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyages. 22 The Sea Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe. Lewls. £8 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates of the Carribees. By S. W. Pierce. 86 The Boy Clowns or, The Arena Queen, By F 8. Finn. BS Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout. By Texas Jack. &1 The Boy Fiftess or, The Underground Camp. By A. C. Tronte 95 The Rival Roverss or, The Freebooters of the Mississippi By Lieut.-Col, Hazeltine. 98 Robin Hood, the Outlawed Earl; or, The Merry Men of Green* wood. By Prof. Gildersleeve, 105 Old Rube, the Hunter; or, The Crow Captive. By Captain Hamilton Holmes. 112 The Mad Hunters; or, 1heCaveof Death. By Burton Saxe, 124 Tippy, the Texan} or, The Young Champion. By George Gleeson. 128 The Toung Privateers or, The Pirate’s Stronghold, By ‘ Harry Cavendish. 148 Sharp Sn or, The Adventures of a Friendlew Boy, By J, Alexander Patten. 227 Duaky Darrell, Trapper; or, The Green Ranger of the Yel. lowstone. By bemiess' » ioe tana ae 261 Fereus Fearnaught the New rir ry: mm OM 266 Kilib’ar. the Guide; »r, Davy Crockett’s Crooked Trail By Ensign C. D. Warren. 298 Red Claw, the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid ot the Cif By Captain Comatock. B17 Peacock Pete, the Lively Lad from Leadville, By Liew tenant Alfred Thorne. 828 The Sky Detectives or, A Boy's Fight for Life and Honore By Maior Mickey Free. 850 Red Ralph, the River Rover} or, The Brother’s Ree venge. By Ned Buntline. 26h Raltimore Ren the Bootblack Detective. (4 A. B Morrite RTA Gold-Pust Toms or, Ben’s Double Match, By@ i. Morse, 876 Callfornia Joe’a First Trail, By Colonel Thoma Hover Monstery. 418 Billy Rombahell, the Cliff Climber. By F. S. Winthrop. By John S_ Warner. &T Black Ship. 4a? he Blinc o and His Three Invincfoies. By 484 Comanche Dic By Edwin Brooke Forrest. Henry J. Thomas. B82 The Cowbcy Duke. By David Druid. By fH. Enton. G52 Artel the Athlete. 585 Will Waters, tle Bov Ferret. 682 The Dead Petective’s Double. By Geraté Carlton, 221 Maverick Mose, the Arizona Detective; cr, The Wizard of Urkos Pass. By Will Lisenbee. 809 Don Danton, the Gent from Denver. By King Keene, of @ UL . Secret Service Corps. By Jusa R14 Ace High, the Frisco Neteciive. By C. BE. Trhy» 880 The Grim Lodgers In. Rog Alley; or, Citlen Rabe of Number Seven. By Ben D. Halliday. 881 The Chicago Draummer’a Deal. By J. G. Bethura, 841 Pence @harile, the Cat’s- Paw Sport, by Mem nuke OVe 861 Billy Brine, tha Swamp Fox. By Chas. F. 879 Blue-licht Bll, the Sapphire Sport; or, The Denver Detem tive’s Lone Hand, By Kiog Keene, A New Iaaune Every Tiesday. The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all N cents per copy, or sont by mail es receiat of etm sents Moweteak- Oe
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BEADLE’S« H ALF- DIME*T_ IBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents, by all Newsdealers:, BY EDWARD L. WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novels, 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince ot the Road. 20 Peadwood Dick's Dellance; or, Double Daggers. 2 oar ity ok - Disgeises, or, Buffa). Ben. ead woot ck tn His Castle. 42 Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza; or, The Phantom Miner. 49 Deadwood Dick in Danger; or, Omaha Ol. 5TjPeandwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 7B Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity é me, the Heroine cores Deke ape ae or, Corduroy Charlie. acl wood ek in Leadville. toe woes ar ng fee; or, The Double Cross Sign. ead woot ck as Detective. Deadwood Dick's Double; or, The Gorgon’s Gulch Ghost. 8 Deadwood Dick’s Home Lasse; or, Blonde Bill, Deadwood Dick's Rig Strike; or, A Game of Gold. Deadwood Dick of Deadwood: or, The Picked Party. Deadwood Dick’s Dreams or, The Rivals of the Road, Deadwood Dick’« Ward; or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel. 5 pnmeeees he Poon s or, Calamity Jane’s Adventure, end wood ek’a Dead Dcal. Peadwood Pick’s Death-Plant. Gold-Duast Dick, A Romance of Roughs and Towghs, nonce ee 14 eg a eg or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. eadwooc eh’s Denth Tralt, Deadwood Dick’a Peal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon. Deadwood Dick’s Dozens or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats Deadwood Dick’s Ducata: or, Days in the Diggings. ee ee nie cree 3 or, The Terrible Vendetta, ead woot ck’a Claim, S Deadwood Pick In Dead City. Deadwood Dick’a Diamonda, Deadwood Dick In New Yorks or, A “Cute Case,” Deadwood Dick’a Dust; or, The Chained Hand. } Deadwood Dick, Jr.3 or, The Crimson Crescent Sign Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Dellance. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s Full Hand, 9 Deadwood Dick, dr.’s, Rie Round-Up. Deadwood Dick Jr.’s Racket at Claim 10, Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s Corral; or, Bozeman BUI, Deadwood Dick, dr.’a Dog Detective. poade ees ot or ayo oa ood, end woot ¢ dr.’s, Compact. Deadwood Dick’ orm Taheritance. Deadwood Dick, drs Digginga. be co ate sy dr.’s, Deliverance, enauw oor OK Jira Protegee. Deadwood Dick, dr.’s, Three. Deadwood Dick, Jr.%s, Danger Ducks, Readweod Dick, Jr.’s, Death Hunt. Peadwood Pick, Jr., in Texas. Deadwood Hick, Jdr., the Wiid West Vidoog Deadwood Inek, Jr., on Ris Mettle. Pendwood Dick, dr., in Gotham, Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Boston, Deadwood Bick, dr., in Philadciphia, Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicage. Deadwood k. Jr.. Afloat. DPeadwooa or.. in benver. Deadwood + dra, Decree. Peadwood Jr. in Beelzebub’s Basin, Deadwood Jr., at Coney Island, pee fae 5 i ise8 vi Lay. ead woot Jr., in Detrolt. Deadwood Jr. tn Cincinnati, Deadwood Jdr., in Nevada, Peadwood dr., in No Man's Land, Pead wood aie After ne Queer. ead woot Pee tt) Iuiinio. 4 Pendwood Dick, dra, Chase Acroas the Continent 654 goae wees piek, sr pence the cmmasiors. end ww 0o* ex r.’@ insurance Care. Deadwood Dick, dr., Back in the Mines. Deadwood Dick, Jr., tn Durango; or, “ Gathered In,” me tale pes oY a ig deere etn ead w oor cK rT.’ NEZAieS, Deadwood Tek, dr.’«. Dollars. % Hoad weed pick tLe G} Danger Divide, | ead woot ek, Jr.% rop. Deadwood Dick, Jr., ‘at Jack-Pot. Deadwood Dick dJr., in San Franciseo, Deadwood Dick, Jr.ta Still Munt. Deadwood Dick, a Dominoes. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a Dieguiae, Dendwood Dick. Jr.4, Double Deal Deadwood Dick Jr.’s, Deathwatch, Dendwood Bick dJr.’«, Houblet. Deadwood Vick Jr.’«, Peathblow. Deadwood Dick, dr.’a Peaperate Strak, Hreadwood Pick, Jr.’«, Lone Hand, Peadwood Dick, Jr.’« Defeat. Deadwood Dick, dr.’a, Resurrection, Deadwooa Dick. Jr.*# Dark Daya. Deadwood Dick dJr., Defied. Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Pouble Device, Deadwood Bick, Jr’.», Desperate Venture, peamwoes Bieks enh Diament Sige end woot ek Jrs; Roya ush, Deadwood Dick, Ira Uend-off Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Rival. Peadwood Dick, Jr.’#, Boom, Deadwood Dick, Jr.’«, Scoop. Deadwood Dick, dr.’s, Proxy. Deadwood Dick, Jr’s, Clutch, Deadwood Bick, Jr.’s, High Moree. Deadwood Dick Jr., at Devil’ Gulch, ond weed tag ph peate-trare Hustle. eandwood Dick r.’s Bombshell. Deadwood Dick, dr., in Mexico, Deadwood Dick, Jr’a Decoy Duck. Peadwood Pick, Jr. In Silver Pocket. Deadwvod Dick, dr.’«, Dead.Sure Game, Deadwood Pick, dr.’s, Pouble Prive. 904 Deadwood Dick, dJr/’s, Trade-Mark, 910 Deadwood Pick, Jr., at Tip-Top. 916 Deadwood Bick, Jr.’s Double-Decker, 928 Deadwood Dick, Jr. at Dollarvilte. 984 Deadwood Dick, Jr.. at Flush Flats, +94 Dendwood Dick, Jr.'s, Shake-up. 95 . 22? ~ aap 70% .5 5 x 6 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’«, Deuble Props 51 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Right Bower. 957 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Ten-Strike. 965 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’*, Gold-Dust. 971 Deadwood Dick Jr.'s, Oath, OTT Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Death-DPoonm, 986 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Beat Card, 992 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Gold Duat. 998 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Big Play. 1005 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Branded. 1011 Deadword Dick, Jr.'s, Dutch Pard, 1018 Deadwood Dict, Jr.'s, Big Four. BY ROBERT R. INMAN, 1086 Pandy Dick's Double. 10624 Pandy Dick, Detective. BY MARCUS H, WARING. 1026 The Three Spotters. 1038 ane Ktreet Spotters’ Weird Hunt. 1053: The Three Spetters’ Dead Mystery. Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. 80 Rosebud Rob; or, Nugget Ned, the Knight. 84 Rosebud Rob on Hand; or, Idy), the Girl Miner. 88 Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance} or, Photograps Phil. ix1 Rosebud Rob’s Challenge; or, Cinnamon Chip. 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen; or, The Yankee’s Surround 281 Denver Doll’s Victory; or, Skul! and Crossbones. 2855 Denver Doll's Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza, 296 Denver Doll’s Drift ; or, The Road Queen. 868 Yreka Jim, the Gold-Gatherer; or, The Lite Lottery, 873 Yreka Jim’s Prize; or, The Wolves of Wake-Up, * ~ 885 Yreka Jjm’s Joker}; or, The Rivals of Red Nese, 594 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam. 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective; or, Dot Leetle Game, 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloquist Hunter. 244 Sierra Sam, the Frontier Ferret; or, A Sister’s Devotion, 248 Sicrra Sams Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 258 Sierra Sam’s Pards; or, The Angel o! Big Vista, 2558 Slerra Sam’s Sevens or, The Stolen Bride. 884 Kangareo Kit; cr, The Mysterious Mine, 889 Kangeroo Kit’s Racket; or, The Pride of Played-Out, 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Lifein New York, ~ 96 Watch-Eyc, the Detective; or, Arabs and Angels, 117 Glit-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 145 Oaptain Ferret, the New York Detective, 16! New York Nell, the Goy-Girl Detective. 226 Tho Arab Detective 3 or; Snoozer, the Boy Sharp. 291 Turk the Boy Ferret. B25 Kelley, Ulekey & Co., 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Detective. 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 High Nat Harry, the Base Ball Detective, 426 Sam Slabaides, the Beggar-Boy Detective. 484 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. 26 Oloven Heol, the Buffalo Demon; or, The Border Vultures. 82 Bob Woolf or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand. 53 Jim Bludsoes, Jr., the Boy Phenix, 61 Buckhorn Bills or, The Red Rifle Team 92 Canada Chet ; or, Ol Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp. 118 Jack Hoyle the Young Speculator. : 25 Bonanza Kill, Miner; or, Madam Mystery, the Forger. 8 Rosa Bob the King of Bootblacka, Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent; or, The Branded Brows. Nobby Nick of Nevaday or, The Sierras Scamps. Wild Frank the Buckskin Bravo; or, Lady Lily's Love. Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado; or, Rowdy Kat Cyclone Kit, the g Gladiator; or, The Locked Valley. 8 Jumbo Joe, the Boy Patrol: the Rival Heirs. B80 Little Qufck-Shoty; or, The Dead Face of Daggersville, 858 Firat-Claea Fred, the Gent trom Gopber. 878 Nabob Neds or, The Secret of Slab City. 882 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, 488 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher; or, A Son's Venge«nce, 486 Sealakin Sam, the Sparkler; or The Tribunal! of Ten. 918 Kit Keith, t e Revenue Spotter. 922 Sol Sharpe, the New York Night-Hawk, 948 Old Hayseed Among Bunco Men, 1001 Banty, the Denver Bootblack. BY J. C, COWDRICK, 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. 514 Broadway Billy’s Beodle; or, Clearing aStrange Case, Broadway Billy’a ‘*Diftikilty.” Broadway Rilly’s Peath Racket. Broadway Billy’s Surprise Party. Brondway Billy; or, The ®-~+ Detective’s Big Inning. Brondway Billy's Dea_ ct: or, The League of Seven Broadway Billy Abroad; or, The Bootblack in Frisco. 5 Brondway Billy's Best; or, Beating San Francisco's Finest, Broadway Billy tn Clover. Broadway Billy in Texas; or, The River Rustlers, Broadway Billy’s Brand. Urondway Billy at Santa Fe; or, The Clever Deal. Broadway Billy’s Full Hand: or, The Gamin Detective, Broadway ’a Rusincas. Brondway ya Curious Case. Broadway n Denver. Broadway Bargain; or, The Three Detective. roadway he Retriever Detective. Broadway Broadway Brondway Broadway Broadway Breadway 5 Broadway Broadway Brondway Hroadway Broadway Broadway Broadway Broadway 1 roadway ; Broadway 1 2 Broadway Broadway the Detectives of Philadelphia, BS OS BD et et bt et ed Nar trms Billy’s Stgenal Scoop. Blily’s Wipe Out. Billy’ Bank Racket. *s Blow. », ig Bulge. 100,000 Snap. blind; or, The Bootblack Stowaway. n London, Billy Shadows London Slams. Broalway Billy’s French Game. Broadway Billy and the Bomb-Throwers, Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery; or, The Golden Keys. Shasta, the Gold King} or, For Seven Years Dead, The Detective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Without a Name, Cibuta Johny; or, Red-Hot Times at Ante Bar, Sandy Sam, the Street Scout. Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude, Redlight Ralph the Prince of the Road. The Engineer Detective; or, Redlight Ralph’s Resolve Mart, the Night Express Detective. Luke the Young Engineer; or, The Double Case rhe Boy Pinkerton; or, Running the Rascals Ont. 5 Fighting Warry the Chief of Chained Cyclone. Bareback Reth, the Centaur of the Circle, 4 647 Tyrewrlter Tilly the Merchant’s Ward, 659 Moonlight Morgan. the “ Pizeneat’’ Man of Ante Baz, SS7 Battery Rom the Bock Detective. 894 Arizona Bick'’s VW ipe-Out. 900 Jumping Jack's Jubilec. 906 Safety Samy the Cyele Sport. 912 Train Boy Trist’s Mot Iustle, 918 The Trump Dock-RBoy. 924 Big Boots Bob, the Fire-Laddte. 980 Kuastler Ralph, the Boy Spotter, 985 The Ex-Newsboy Detective’s Chum. 941 The Bowling Green Petective’s Drop. 944 Cowboy Charlte’« Double. 947 The Bowery W restler; or, The Butcher-Boy’s Backer, 958 Paddy’s Trump Card; or, Silver Sallie, the Girl Sport. 960 The Broadway Sport; or, Fiver Fred’s Clear Case. 967 81000 Reward: or, The Rival Reporters’ Sleek Scoop, 978 Bantam Billy, the Corker-Ferret, 978 PI Pat, the Strect-Rey Detective, 7 «B yrs ® ysl yi Tucky 989 Bicyele Bob’s Hot Scorch, 997 Scorcher Bam, the. Detective on Wheels. 1004 Scorcher Fam’s Sweep-Stake a. 1009 ‘Tne Girl Cy elis’s Winning Hand, BY ARIZONA CY, 1048 You Pet Bob from Cross Crick, 1088 You Bet Bob's Clreus, | 1052 | BUFFALO BILL NOVELS, BY COL. PRENTISS INGRALAM tuffalo Pillin féisgulse. 1046 Goid Plume, the Boy Handit,; or, Buffalo Biil, the Pony Uxpress Rider. 1042 3 ittle Grit, the Pony Exprers Rider, 1040 Buffalo Gills Pony Patrol. 1018 Buffalo BILV« Texas Team, 1007 Enffalo Bill’s Sure-Shota. 1000 Buffalo Bills Decoy Boya. 995 Buffalo Bila Drop: or, Dead-S 988 Buffalo Bill’s Lasso Throwers, 981 Buffalo Bill’« Fighting Five. 975 Buffalo Bill's Rifle Shots, ‘ 968 Buffalo Bill's Kush Ride; or, Sure-Shot, the High-Flyen $64 Buffalo Rill’s« Becoy ¢ or, The Arizona Crack Shot 958 Buffalo Bill'a Mazeppa-Chase. = 948 Buffalo Bills Snap-Shkot ¢ or, Wild Kid’s Texan Tally 942 Buffalo Bill's Tough Tussle. 986 Buffalo Bill's Roy Mascot; or, Joe Jarvie’ Hold-ep. 929 Buffalo Bill's Crack-shot Pard. 650 Buffalo Bill’« Boy Pard; or, Butterfly Billy. 216 Bison Bill, the Prince of the Reins. 222 Bison Bill’s Clue: or. Grit, the Bravo Sport, BY BUFFALO BILL. “, 55 Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Sccut; or, The Banded Brotherhoed} 68 Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rover. - 158 Faney Frank of Colorado: or, The Trapper’s Trust, 1029 The Phant>m Spy. 1088 Kansas King; or, The Red Right Hand. BY CAPT, ALFRED B. TAYLOR, U. 8. A. 191 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker. “ee 194 Buffalo Bill’s Ket: or, The Gambier Guide. BY COL. ‘ed , the Kanena Kid, PRENTISS INGRAHAM, 1087 The Artist Detective. 1084 The Gold Witch's Shadower. 1081 The Texan Hustlers in Cuba. 1027 The Cowboy Raiders in Cuba 1025 The Flying Yankee or, The Ocean Outcast. 1028 The Cowboy Clan in Cua. 1016 The Boy Bugler in Ceba. c ’ 982 New York Nat’s Prop: or, Ex-Ferret Sykes’ Bold Game 926 New York Nat and the Traitor Ferret, 920 New York Nat Trapped. a New York Nat's ‘lhrec of a Kind, New York Nat’ Bouble. New York Nat’s in Colorado. New York Nat in Gold Nugget Camp. New York Nat’s Deadly Peal. New York Nnat’s Crook-Chare. New York Nat’s Trump Card. New York Nat and the Grave Ghouls. New York Nat’s Masked Mascot. New York Nat, the Gamin Detective. 58 Dick Doom’s Kidnapper Knock-Out. 7 Dick Doom’s Ten Strike. Dick Doom’s« Flush Hand. ' Bick Doom’s Renth-Grip; or, The Detective by Destinys Dick Doom’s Destiny; or, The River Blackleg’s Terror, Dilek Doom: or. The Sharps and Sharks of New York, Dick Doom In Boston; or, A Man of Many Maske. Dick Doom tn Chicego. __ Dick Doom In the Wild Weat. , Dick Doom’s Clean Sweep} co, Five Links in « Cine $ Dick Doom’s Death Clue. Dick Doom’s Dinmord Deal, Dick Doom’s Girl Mascot. Dick Doom's hg ea Dick Doom’s Rig Heul. ~“* Dashing Charlie: or, The Kentucky Tenderfoot’s First Trail, Dashing Charlfe’s Destiny; or, The Renegade’s Captive Dashing Charlie’s Pawnee Pard. + Dashing Charlie, the Rescuer, Ruck Taylors King of the Cowboys. Buck Taylor, the Comanche’s Captive. Buck Taylor’s Boys; «1, The Red Riders of the Ric Granes, And Fifty Others. BY LIEUT,. A. K, SIMS, Tom-Cat and Pardy or, The Dead Set at Silver City. 2 Tom-Cat’s Triad; cr, The Affuir at Tombstone. * Tom Cat’s Terrible Task; or, The Cowboy Detective Tom-Cat’s Triuy:phs or, Black Dan's Great Combine. — Captain Cactus, the Chaparral Coch; or, Josh's Ten Strike, The Dandy of Dodge; or, Rurtling for Millions. : The Silver Sport: or, eye perinint’s Jubilee, 8 on Sol, the Man With a Shadow ~ ery Ihans, the Dutch Vidocg; or, Hot Timesat Reond-Ugi Bildad Barnacle, the Detective Hercules. Cowboy Gid, the Cattle-Range Detective. Warbling William the Monntain Mountebank, Jolly Jeremiah» the Plains See s Se the Lookout Scout. : Mine t he € ype y Spy: or, The Mystery of Two Lives, Simple Sim, the-Broncho Buster: or, For Big Stakes. The Meameri«t Sport; or, The Mystified Detective. Toltee Tom, the Mad Prospector. _ ad Kansas Jim the Croes-Cut Detective. Marmaduke, the Mustanger Detective. The Rustler of Rolling Stone. Lone Wand Joc the Committee oi One. Kent Kirbys the High-Kicker from Killbrck, The Doctor Dete etive in Texas, Two Showmen Petectives In Colorado, Pe The Texan Firebrand: or, Brazos Billy’s Suap.Skau J The Tramp’s Trump-Trick. NEW ISSUES. 1064 Pandy Dick Decoyed. By Robcrt R, Inman. 1065 Rure Shot &cth, the Boy Riflemsn. By Oll Coomes. 1066 Co boy Chris, the Des rt Centaur, Ry W. W, Wildew £067 You Bet Bob's Jangie._ By Arizona ¢ y: 1068 The Crulse of the Sen Wo'f. By Col. Tngrabam. 1069 On Land and Sea. By Braceb:idge Hemyng.! TB 1070 Nat Todd; or, The Fate of tue Siocx Captive. By Ellts, 1071 Dandy Dick’s Pecoy, By Rebt. R. Inman, 107% Keen Knife, Prince of the Prairies. By Oll Coomes. JUST ISSUED. O55 Red Raven’s Redskin Ruse. By Col. P. Ingraham 10n6 Cowboy Chrisin Cinnabar, By Wm. W. Wilder, 1057 Gold Hille, the Sharpshooter. By Ed. L, Wheeler, 1068 Roderick, the Rover. By{T. J. Flanagan, 1059 Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout. By Texns Jack. 1060 Marlo, the Renegade. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 1061 Silver Star, the Boy Knight. By Ol) Coomes 1062 Tho Left-Mand Athlete. By Bracebridge Hemyng. 1068 Wild Bill's Weird Foe. By Wm.G Patten. A New Issue Every Tuesday. pe p » Lib is for sale by all newsdealers, sabe er ok - ance pet ot dix cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 22 William Street, New York, ) oo > _
Page 32
Each Number Complete. The Mi Library 984 ng red ae Raffle; or, The Doomed | 822 Buffalo Bill's Best Bower; or, Montebello the]653 The Lasso King's League; or, The Tigers of ree. By - P. Ingraham. Gold King. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Texas. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. (070 Buffalo Bill's Releatless Trail. By Colone)| 820 White Beaver’s Still Hunt; or, The Miner} 649 Buck Taylor, the Saddle King. Buffalo Biil’s } Prentiss Ingraham. Marauder’s Death-Track. By Buffalo Bill. Chief of Scouts. By Col. P. Ingraham. \ 978 The Dread Shot F : My Pards 816 Buffalo Bill’s Red Trail; or, The Road-R ider} 644 Buffalo Bill’s Bonanza; or, The Knights of Plains. By Col. Weer ean Pards of I Renegade’s Run Down. By Col. P. Ingraham. ‘ the aver Circle. By Col. P. ‘Theraledi: 064 o Bill’s ; - or- The & ‘ 812 Buffalo Bill's Death-Knell; or, The Red Hand) 639 ; cine: fontebello, the Magnifi- / — er diy a ee tal iy. Col eas Riders of the Rockies. By Col. P, Ingraham. ‘ ae eo BI x salou ae | 07 Wild Bil, the Wild West Duelist; or, The Girl| g29 Buffalo Bill's [Daring Role; or, Daredeath } 980 Buffalo Bill’s Blue Belt Brigade; or, Sun- Mascot of Moonlight Mine. By Buftalo Bill, Dick, King of the Cowboys. By Leon Lewis. f flower Sam of Shasta. By Col. P. Ingraham. |807 Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist; or, The Girl] 599 The Dead Shot Nine; or, My Pards of the #6 Buffalo Bill’s Volunteer Vigilantes: or, The | om oe ay tetera the Cowboy Chief. By Buf- "Plains. By Buffalo Bill. ‘ Mysterious Man in Blue. By Col. P. Ingra-lec, 2 cosy, werent 517 Buffalo Bill's First Trail; or, Will Cody, the ham. |794 Buffalo Bill's Winning Hand; or, The Masked Pony Express Rider. By Ned Buntline. rome 2 ado Canyon, B JO}, | is . (960 neg 3h eg. Bay; or, The Gold Seeker's! Lads se the, Dolorgdo: Canyon, : By: Col. ot 414 Red Renard, the Indian Detective; or, The oom. $ Sol. “4 gz. é o ef) suzzards tol ay : J ¥ " me 3 Ingraham. 787 Buffalo Bill’s Dead Shot; or, The Skeleton Scout Gold Buss bia of Colorado, By Buffalo Bill, $48 Buffalo Bill’s Block Game; or, The Mounted of the Colorado. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. | 401 The One-Armed Pard; or, Red Retribution in Miners of the Overland. By Col. P, Ingra-| 7.0 = dai ote Pi $ Borderland. By Buffalo Bill. ham 781 Buffalo Bill's Brand; or, The Brimstone) : : x ’ Asse 7 Pp -. * > au > St stake, os J - ty CC -rentiss ere ¥21 Buffalo Bill's Quandary; or, Veivet Bill's at Last Chance. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.) oo¢ a vat ae a Stddesacns ( ee ee, Se eee cee Sas. itnioe Bill's Dosen) OF, BU EUOROG Raat: Daeke Bee Ce pins, Ov ea nahn yt i- . a a > Buffalo B ozen; or, Silk rhe Sam, Phree. By Col, P. I he Me ean, the. Redskin toon, by Cole te sas iranian ign ine plea gpm em sibsieita’ Bik The: Weasinein: 3t Aho wrebiy Me 2% ° ? ; . } graham, tee N-'761 Buffalo Bill’s Mascot: or, The Death Valley} Buffalo Bill. é Tint! lo § ty O% re fea _— F ‘ y ) 908 emit initt 5 daigans. aris Red Wavier. Dy ree ones er lan cea ae Ingraham. | 304 Texas Jack, the Prairie “Rattler; or, The \ Col, Préntiss Ingraham. ty cme seth hae ag THe pasar De-! Queen of the Wild Riders. By Buffalo Bill. G04 Buffals. Bil’e- Tangled Trait; of, Centioméll aan wes. nis Vile Pour’, ot, Custer'a 243 The Pligrim Sharp; or, The Soldier's Sweet- Jack, the Man of Many Masks, By Col, P | 750 Buffalo Bill's Big Four; or, Custer’s Shadow, heart. By Buffalo Bill, Government Scout Ingraham. See rh By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. and | Guide. 900 Buffalo Bill’s ; srechor. Texas Jack’s| 74% Buffalo Bill's Flush Hand; or, Texas Jack's) 189 Wild. Bill’s Gold) Trail; or, The Desperate ) tara 4 Zot Smrantiee “aaaeetiens: Bravos. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Dozen. By Col. P. Ingraham. Oe: Tr tr- ‘We @ . or , 1789 Biffalo*Bill’s Blind; or, The Masked Driver) 175 Wild Bill's T > Card; o The Indi f £95 Buffalo Bill’s Secret Ally; ~xan's| ‘ pig es wees oi Si ramp VB ry The Tneian Douhte. By rig e os aes Texan's hla Be i ‘eds The Three Bills; Puffalo Bill, Wild Bil and) ham. fee ery Pe een 3and-Box Bill; or, The Bravo in Broadcloth. | 7: ralé ’ eagles: or. Silk Ss ist eS geeonal . : Bide By Col P. Ingraham. 731 By ool Siedilen Be roca si une? eae AD a Farete eae Fh te bg SF yg or, td 4 RB 1g ters 7 ee a Rotem } andy, the Hotspur of the Hills, B a $74 ana ee ‘ 7 rig erey ee; os The Card} 727 Buffalo Bill’s Body Guard; or, The Still Hunt} D. Burr. ; 4 8 | an’s Las ane. 1y- Col. P. Ingraham. of the Hills. By Col.. Prentiss Ingraham. | 92 Buffalo Bill, ‘the Buckski c 4 , Read = | 92 Buffe sill, : ckskin King;, or, The 869 Ruffalo Bill's Road Agent. Round-Up; or, The) 722 Buffalo Bill on the War Path; or, Silk Lasso! Amazon of the West. By Major Dangoriield apg Dabs Masked Man in Black. By Col. Sam, the Will-o'-the-Wisp. By Col. PF. In-| Burr, . Ingraham. graham. 88 Gold Bullet Sport; or, The Knights of the 863 Buffalo Bill’s Death-Charm; or, The Man!716 Buffalo Bill’s Scout Shadowers; or, Emer-| ~~ Overland: By I suftalo’ Bill, With the Scar. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. ald Ed of Devil’s Acre. By Col. P. Ingraham. 52 Death Trailer; the Chief of Scouts; cr, Bife 3 F Da t t ’ { ¥) t= Ruffalo Bill's Royal Flush; or, The Pony Ri-| 710 Buffalo Bill. Baffled; or, The Deserter Des-| and Love in'’a Frontier Fort. BY Buffalo der’s Death-Run. By Col. Prentiss Ingra-| perado’s Defiance. By Col. P. Ingraham. Bill, wi fe '@97 Buffalo Bill’s Buckskin Brotherhood; or ‘ . " = ~ F 7: : =r ", *} ‘SD "4 SSUES ¥ 56 Buffalo Bill's Double Dilemma; or, The Great Opening Up a Lost Trail. By Col. P, In- NEW ISSUES TO COME. y Scout’s Big Three. By Col. P. Ingraham, } graham. /985 The Long-Hatred Pards; or, The Tartars of ) $45 Buffalo Bill's Redskin Ruse; or, Texas Jack’s, 691 Buffalo | +8 Blind Fig or, Cee piel eg the Plains.» By Joseph E. See Jr. Death Shot. By. Col. Prentiss Ingraham. of the Regiment. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 4., 7... The 5 heirs yr } . ‘ p Teste Jc'e| 682 Buffalo Bill’s Secret Service Trail. By Major ity = one ‘the an rdmaster. By Col, ‘Thos. 889 The Ranch King Dead-Shot; or, Texas Jack’s | Hoyer Monstery: Proxy. By Buffalo Bill. ) Dangerfleld Burr. lost: Shadrach, ti Detective: or, The $ { : The Brimstone 667 Buffalo Bill's Swoop; or, the King of the 95? Shadrach, the Sport Detective; or 1¢ Secret } 830 Buffalo Bill’s Boys_in Biue; or, , 4 A 4 ; Seven. By John W. Osbon. { Band’s Blot-out... By Col. P. Ingraham, Mines. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. : ( | poe 1 6 Bil’s § -Shooters; or, The Surgeon 658 The Cowboy Clan; or, The Tigress of Texas, | 988 Rocky Mountain Rob, the California Outlaw. i sate : ee Pe ito Col. o fngraham. | By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. | ‘ By Albert W. Aiken. : } gesaren J EEE AAA AL RAR aero m ; - > ala ‘fs s ro }3 HE DIME LIBRARY is for sale by aH Newsdealers, S}s]°} = sts : S|/° 7 2 ee NS Hn ten cents per copy, or sent by mail, pre-paid, on re- ite Cae J \e{ eeipt of price. sis D1 WS ie RT'S ae os o}3 S19 Sis \ 5 >| TF ale sis °;s ots sis sj Ne a !