Beadle's New York Dime Library (no. 90) (1880 03 24)
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ga vl l il tes SSS 7 aS GOPYRIGHTED IN I880, BV BEADLE XX ADAMS. ENTERED AT THE POsT OFFICE AT NEW YORK, N. Y., 48 S—conD CLASS MATTER. Published Every WILD WILL, THE MAD RANCHERO; 0 THE TERRIBLE TEXANS. A Romance of Kit Carson, Jr., and Big Foot Wallace’s Long Trail. BY ‘BUCKSKIN SAM.” (MAJOR SAM S. HALL.) CHAPTER L. - THE FRONTIER HOME. Texas! bright, flowery land of the far sunny South!—land where the Lone Star flag waved over scenes of mad carnage, blood-stained prai- ries and chivalric deeds—deeds that live un- rivaled in the history of States or nations. seep Oy step, over gory trails, have thy brave sons driven their cruel foes—the painted savage a and dash over thy plains, and t r Beadle ¢ Adams, Publishers, 98 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y.; March 24, 1880, pas ene ~ : Ten Cents a Copy. $2.50 a Year. from thy green flower-bespangled prairies for- daring, and rude haunts, where the crack of the ever. Bold, sturdy; brave have been thy heroes— men who have turned their backs on lands and made new homes upon thy borders, where the war-cry of the Comanche and. the yelp 9% the coyote are heard by day and by night. nd of flowers: and of. thorns—of rolling prairies and desert plains, of dense chaparrals, mountain ranges, crystal streams and sunny | rifle will often ring in their ears, the rattle of rah | the revolver be heard, the clash of the fatal aceful | bowie awake steely echoes, and the death-cry and shout of victory mingle together. Let those, then, who would strike my ink- trail, come with me to the banks of the Medina river, at a point some ten miles from San An- tonio, for there the first scene of my ‘‘ower true Ss. th sides of the river extend the bot- valleys; land of cotton, corn.and cattle, of sugar | age, and where the sun ever shines. and the grass | is ever green—land of enchantment and of. ro- mance, who that has once dwelt within thy bor ders can cease to;love thy ‘sunny clime—who that has left thy boundaries dreams not of thy velvet prairies, forest-fringed rivers, and longs | ain revisit. the scenes: once loved so | not to well, and ever held in fond remembrance? | and luscious fruit, of the-civilized. and the say- | dscape ness. darken in the timber, Once again am I to bound upon my fleet. mus- | ugh thy canyons; but it 1s only, in. remembranee, and those who kindly follow my pen-trail shall and ruthless, revengeful Mexican—driven them | I lead into scenes of wild adventure, desperate “HALT!” GOMES SHARP AND QUICK FROM KIT CARSON, oR., AS THEY ARIUVE WITHIN HEARING OF THE LXIDIANS.
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4 — Lanoest den from our view by the dense foliage, and the birds have flown to roost on the borders of .the forest, so as to bask in the last rays of the set- ting sun. A slowly-given chirp or so from the insects, aye clearing their throats to join with the frogs n their coming concert, when darkness settles more densely upon the earth, only sérves to make our surroundings more gloomy. But look! Man has invaded the solitude, for as we look up the river, we discover’a small log oo standing only a little removed frém its nk. Above the house, and to the west of it, is a corral; its sso are open and it is empty. The climbing vines by the cahin door, the flower-beds in its front indicate that they have had the delicate care of a woman. Saddles and Jariats hang from the corral gate; a stone bake-oven and smoke-house stand near the cabin, and a huge pile of split rails lie upon the bank, just beiow. This is the house of a Texan ranchero, and peace and quiet now reign supreme about it. The firelight flashing from the hospitable open door enables us to inspect the interior, and as- certain the character of the occupants. In one corner, busily engaged | in win a, web of yarn, is an aged lady, who peeps under or over her spec’s, as the yarn puzzles her by oming entangled. At the fire, cooking venison-steaks, and now and then turning the iron oven which contains the pone of corn-bread destined for the evenin meal, isa woman of some thirty-five years o age, and near by, sitting in an ppparently Greatay mood, gazing into the firel A t, is a beautiful girl of sixteen summers. The long dark-brown natural curls are not able to hide the cheeks, rosy with the hue of health, or her bright, laughing hazel eyes; the hand which supports her well formed head is plump and retty, and we are forced to give her more at- Fention than we have the others, for her great beauty and innocent appearance cause us to linger in our inspection of the cabin in spite of ourselves; but a slight rustle at our back draws attention in that direction, and we see an infant asleep upon a spotless white spread bed in the corner. asi the floor of the cabin is but clay, and the furniture of the most primitive kin there is an air of neatness and refinement abou evrything, and be he who he may, a heart welcome would greet any one who asked hospi- tality at the hunds of the occupants. This is the ranch, and I have shown you the Fe of William Halliday. William Halliday went to Texas from Vir- ginia some two years Ae ad to the Shentis of our. story, and by his upright dealing an honorable character gained many friends; and yet he was to have the most horrible experience of Indian brutality and Mexican treachery of any man on the frontiers of the Lone Star State. The supper-table was spread; the venison- steaks threw out a delicious odor, mingled with the aroma of coffee; the pone of corn- bread was taken from the oven, and wrapped in a cloth; Mrs. Halliday then, in a nervous manner, pushed up the loose coals with a stick into the fire, and cast a look about the cabin to see if everything was ir its place; then she steps to the open door, gazes with an anxious look through the darkness up the creek, and heaving a deep sigh turns back into the room, excl»iming, impatiently: “Qu! how I wish Will would not stay away so late! I think he must have gone to Castro- villa. What do you think, mother?’ “Theard him say something about ammuni- tion; don’t worry, daughter.” “Yes, that must be it; not be ae stock far enough away him so long. I cannot keep fro ried about his going out alone, since Jim Slocum wae killed an scalped, only. five miles from ere, “‘He’s all safe, daughter, you can rest as- sured,” : ; wisherind “T wonder why it is,” said Mrs. Halliday, “that the Government will persist in stationing infantry at Fort Clark instead of cavalry, for if scouting parties of cavalry were kept out from Camp Verde and Fort Clark, I not think we should be in any danger from the In- dians here. I never lay down at night without expecting the war-whoop fore morning. What are you thinking about, Mary?” The young lady, who had still kept gazing into the fire while her mother had been speak- ing, now roused herself upon being directly ad- dressed, arose from her chair, and running her fingers through her long curls with an impatient movement commahies swering her mother as she walked: “IT was thinking, mother, that if Captain Burleson’s Rangers were only stationed near here we would then have no fears of Indians or Mexicans; I do think it is dreadful to be con- stantly in fear of these fiends, who take delight in bloodshed sud torture.” - : ‘“Tagree with you in regard to the Rangers, said Mes. Halliday, ‘ but they cannot be wary where at the same time. It seems to me that ever since that scouting-party came here, you he certainly would. to keep m feelin worth have run me five miles; they have to pace the room, an- | Wild Will,.the Mad Ranchero. have greatly chan such a fancy to—Kit Carson, Jr.?”’ At the mention of this name, Mary’s cheeks became of a scarlet hue, which deepened as her grandmother remarked, in the slow manner ar to age: “Yes, that’s the lad; I noticed our Mary took to him from the first time he entered the cabin; eyes, his joyous songs and have run me wild, I reckon, “Well, he is a right pert boy,” answered Mrs. Halliday, ‘‘and I hope he does not drink or gamble if our Mary is to be anything to him. I have seen so much woe and misery in my day caused by rum that I would rather see one that was near and dear to me stretched in her cof- fin than wedded to one who drinks.” - “‘ Mother!” exclaimed Mary, in a decisive manner, “J know he does not drink, for not only has he told me so himself, but I have heard the Rangers often speak of it as being so strange, for they all use or, more or less. You re- ‘member, grandmother, what happened when they were here? I was in their camp with fa- ther, when some of them were drinkin , and two of the Rangers, who were the best of friends when sober, becamé mad at each other, and went out into a motte near camp, and fought a duel, in which one was killed. Joe | Sommers, the next morning, when he found he had shot his best friend, Charley Newcomb, came near going crazy, and cried over the body half the day. 6 said ‘he did not remember Shoat that had happened while drunk; and Kit asked Joe to swear that he never would touch anything intoxicating again so long as he lived, which he did willingly, asking God to help him keep his oath arid orgive him for his t crime. The Rangers would have hung oe to a post-oak limb, but he had fought *squar’,’ as they say, and took no advantage of Charley. Why, mother, I am positive Kit does not drink, or use tobacco in any form.” “Well, Mary,” said Mrs. Halliday, ‘‘I must say that he is a model young man, and the only one I’ve seen on the frontier who is free from the vices of drinking and pamiting for I’ve heard him say myself he knew not ing about cards. I like his appearance very much; s0 does your father. What keeps him so late?” CHAPTER II. RED DEVILS. Just as the last words left the mouth of Mrs. Halliday, a rifle-shot burst on the stillness of the night, followed by a yell of agony, and the sharp, quick clatter of horses’ hoofs came to- ward the cabin from up the river. ‘My God! what means that shot and yell?” exclaimed Mrs. Halliday, in a frightened and horrified tone, as she sprung to the door of the cabin. As she gared, out into the darkness, a horse camé@oundin, and parank, crushing the flower- beds, up to the door, and a erfully -built tg gt gh poy aes und, er e cabin, at the Eine Gina eect the horse a violent blow with his quirt, which caused him to bound away down the river. Will Halliday—for it was the ranchero—as he struck his horse, one anxious look to- ward the corral, pape, Some behind the gate burst a quick, ht flash, followed by a leud report, and a dull thud, as the bullet entered the logs of his home near him. Will bounded inside, closed and double-barred the door; then, hastening to his horror-struck wife, he folded her in his arms an instant, press- 2d a ‘kiss Re ARee ney Sucre er, who er yarn Py SUth dire neni” “Be brave!” exclaimed Will, in a cheery ahead. The Comanche murderers ton’s ranch, and I reckon have killed them all up the river. Marys aa your litt my brave , and watch the loophol the creek, you can brain wautenel Aiie of a pecan you can do some shooting here tha “ TH ather,” “1 AoW you il The moon will be up soon d wec ve a chance at the red fiends. It not as now as when I rode down-stream. I trust in and my rifle. Pray to Him, m og: that He will not.desert us. You tter put out the fire, Mollie; it might cause fret, grandmother; I reckon ae wc but would choose to die a natural death.” scattering volley of rifle-shots broke the deep outside, and a shower of balls and arrows came pattering against the log walls. A low w: hae trom tte baby of the bed, which caused Will to from his loophole, and imprint a loving kiss on his infant's lips, but in an instant he was back again at his yaa Mary, her little rifle grasped firmly, her blood- Who was it you took | ws ee less lips comprsered in a determined manner, stood gazing from the loophole at the north side of the cabin, next the river. Suddenly her cheek is pressed close to the wall of logs apd. spe rs into the darkness with double interest. A shot from her father’s rifle, the death-yell of a savage, and the mad- are whoops of the others, do not distract Lass What does she see? Just back of the cabin, and not twenty feet from, it, stands a tree, whose. branches overhang the . Blowly climbing up the trunk of this tree Mary discovers an Indian; his purpose is plain to her; she sees that the sa- vage intends to make his way out upon the pro- ig branches, drop down upon and cut his way through the thatched roof; others, who are now Watching him, will follow, and while those in front draw the attention of her father, these will have the family at their mercy. The Indian has gained the first branch of the pecan, and yet Mary does not fire; she hesitates, le as death, for she has never taken human fe, but sees the necessity of doing so now to save those she loves from a horrible death. The Indian reaches up to clutch the limb above him; his arms aré stretched as far as pos- sible, his fingers catch, then cling about the branch. Mary hesitates no longer; her little rifle is thrust from the loophole and steadily aimed at the warrior in the tree. She pulls the trigger; a sharp report follows. he pain brave clutches wildly at the branch, swings this way and that an instant, then fails backward with a wild death-yell crash- ing down through the bushés into the river, and sinks beneath its dark waters. As Mary’s rifle sent its messenger of death, the moon’s rays filtered through the branches of the bottom timber, showing the Indians the defeat of their first plan to enter the cabin, as they saw the fall and heard the yell of their comrade from the fatal tree. The appearance of the moon now gave Will a chance send three shots, one er another, from his Sharp’s rifle, into the group of braves that stood before the cabin and cause them to take to cover. Now all became silent in and about the cabin; Mrs. Halliday, pressing her infant to her breast, crouched by the side of her mother in one cor- ner, both pale and trembling. Will, with his rifle Brasped firmly, and a cart- ridge between his teeth, gazed through the loop- hole in his front by the door, and’ Mary, firm as a rock, now, stood at her post. What would be the next move of the Indians none knew; half a dozen had been killed by - Will and one by Mary; but the woods seemed full of the fiends, judging from their yells, when one of their number gave the death-lowl. One thing was sure—they must have noticed that no shots came frcm the ends of the cabin, and Will, thinking of this, walked to the loop- holes and took a survey frcm each ur and down the river. He was too late: he could not look up into the t-oak next the corral in the branches of which lurked half a dczen red war- rs. He returned to his post in the front just asa dozen Indians, bearing a log as a batteriug-ram, in a dead run, sent it crashing against the door, which quivered and splintered, sending a thrill of horror through the hearts of the whites in the cabin. ill fired instantly into the group of braves as they gathered about the log or & second ef- fort, and two more warriors fell to the earth, while the remainder, with fierce yells of disap- pointnient, spring beck among the timber, As Will fired his rifle, and was gazing out to ascertain the effect, the thatch was torn from ‘the roof next the corral, and in an instant half a i dark forms dropped silently into the ca —to) ~ - first thing to alarm Will and Mary was tne crashing of a tomahawk through the skull of Sh Xe nee” and a scream of terror from alliday, ~~ The Dod of his own and Mary’s rifle blend- ed together as they strove to defend those they 1 . Two braves gave their last yell as the t whoops of the other four warned those ou of their muccess 1 fell senseless to the floor from the blows of the tomahawks, and was at once bound as were also Mary and her mother. _ The din of conflict inside was suddenly stop- a terrific crash as | 1¢ door flew in splin- ers, into the-venter of the calin, followed by a of war-painted fiends in human form, who on Sig poor helpless prisoners out into the t were bound to trees opposite the Sian ggg body a a lady cos thrown ront .o e bound captives, an before. their « es! ee ee ere was a in the eyes of Mar and her mother which told of a d 4 rate sorror that was painful to witness, but when an Indian came swinging the little babe ae leg, and 0 scal its plaintive oy eee ad m he ee this ve ce such a plead look that a but a heart of stone wer Bieve melted at the sight; but it had no effect upon
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| ( and at Her on h ‘trophy, am the party, 4 BR es stream. the red brute, who; threw, the infant roughly upon the..dead,,body of its grandmother, and hastened back to the pillage of the cabin with his brother butchers. In less than ten minutes the household goods —in fact everything an Indian would value— were taken from the home of the Hallidays, and bright flames sprung through. the. roof toward heaven, as if calling upon the poner’ above to witness this act of fiendish cruelty. Amid the glare of the burning cabin the danc- ing demons came yelling toward the captives to feed their insatiable love of cruelty upon their pain and misery. One of the Indians, who was by his dress.and bearing a chief, walked up to the tree to which Will was bound, and ran his scalping-knife di- ee through the fleshy portion of his arm. With a deep grosn. which was. answered by agonizing shrieks from his. wife and daughter, ill lifted. up. his bowed head and opened his ..eyes upon the horrid scene before him. His eyes glared with madness; horror.and des- ation as he took in the dreadful .view—the lazing cabin, his wife and daughter bound, as hewas himself, like dogs, the dead. body of his wife’s. mother. scalped and mutilated, and -his darling infant boy, the pride of his heart, writhing upon the ground among the red de- mons, who danced with fiendish joy atthe sight of his misery. His sufferings had only just Regn. The babe es erpepad by one leg by a burly savage.and high in the air, being caught, as the poor innocent descended, by another, and then thrown up again and again, amid the heartrend- Mpecrpams of his poor mother. _ This dreadful sight caused Mary to faint. The father,and husband writhed at his bonds, while the agony-sweat.stood in large: beads upon his forehead. A wild cry of anguish burst from the des- pairing parents as the chief sent the head of the poor baby crashing against the trunk of a post- oak, crushing out its rains, and then. throwin its lifeless form down beside the body of its dea grandmother again. With hellish laughter the red devils watehed and fed upon the agony of the parents; the lurid flames flashed and crackled, lighting up the scene of horror, torture and death. The Indians; formed in_ line, the chief at, the head, and went,circling, dancing, whirling and yelling past their captives, until at last the head of the line stopped before Mrs. Halliday; her clothing was stripped in shreds from her. form, and each warrior, as he , gave her a gash with his knife; her shrieks beeame moans, her oans sighs, and finally, with the blood, run- in streams down her form to her feet, her sunk on her breast. ‘Will's glassy eyes glared upon the gory form Pabis wife, Ouare which spoke of a iat sordered The Indians, with wild yells, now drew their ahawks, and sent them _whizzing through the air at the head of Mrs. Halliday; they flew pep tek ag EM a e er beau y mo Rais, of the murdering weapons went through her skull, her sufferings an end. crashing were. en ; He i ag torn from her head by the chiet, aml the exultant shouts of the brayes rags aig with hellish joy as they waved —as if defying Heaven—the bloody y. “At the. whirr of every tomahawk a deathly, dreadful horror ran through the frame of poor ill, causing his form to cringe and shrink, and sent es of agony, like seething light- mip, thron h his brain ee /frats oan of unbearable m el ar Pha forthe See clove the skull e w hea wife, and then his head sunk unconscious a breast. Indians now sprung hither and th'ther es a nce ey were—gather a, eapin, them about the iat which Will was foande . CHAPTER TIL RANGERS AT WOBK.. RIw1nG like the wind, their mustangs covered Tae foam and panting with gees at three in Ran rs, ¢ uck-skin—their eyes bent upon the flame of the burning cabin up the The one in front, with Jong black bair wild, gaia eyes and noble bears, " it Carson, r. ‘ Jost 6 Egoeh, he bie oe Hie ele of ext. from the northern boun peel enor a stern determination about him t shows grit that may be relied upon in bine of need; while he is the life of every party he is with, by his pr da sas good spirits. Last, but not least, and never last in a charge, comes Tom Clark, one of Texas’s adopted sons —a Texan at heart, true and brave, who scorns all hifalutin talk as be calls it, and uses.as fog words as if he had never seen the inside a school-house. | tree to whic ‘‘ Halt!” comes sharp.and quick from Kit, as they. arrive within hearing of the Indians. “Twist your Jlariats. roun a limb! Lively, | ering cabin, i nn a ee Making .the horses fast to the branches of a itech be was soon groping around the smuld- ting each and every footprint boys; I’m afraid we're too late. Great God in | with intense interest. heaven | if is killed, my life is blighted for- ever, and I shall live only. for revenge.” ‘‘ By their yells, Kit,” exclaim cusses at the’r bloody work, but.we can jist knock.’em fiying, or.go.under trying ter do ther job for ’em.” “Were there a thousand, I'd hurl myself among them and blot them from the face of the earth! _ Me soul is up.in arms,and.eager for the fray! ‘Lead on, cduff, and damned ’—ay, doubly damned be he. who first—” ‘Rasy, with your Shakspeare, Joe!” warned Kit; ‘‘come on, boys, we'll go in on a run, and give them.a few shotsfrom our rifles, then just everlasting ‘go for ’em’ with our sixes.at. short het e. Don’t stop for the brush. ‘Git up an’ g1 Away toward the burning cabin bounded. the three gers, beneath the dark shadows cf the trees, leaving their horses behind, well secured. The Indians .were _ lighting the torture-fire about.the.tree to which Will, was.tied, when three rifles sent their_lead into, them, followed almost immediately by three: more.shots close onto them, for the siege ran like deer. Six warriors fell dead,.and others were wounded; the survivors. stood an. instant,: be- wildered at the unexpected attack, and that in- stant.was fatal to many, for on came the Ran- ers, dropping their rifles and each. drawing wo revolvers from. their seabbards and sending ina hail of lead.as they ran. The Indians fled in terror through the dark shadows of the bottem. timber, leaving the fire just flickering up.at the feet of Will. ‘ Amid, Se meth, as the cor gels were oe y the rs, the Indian chief sp to the Mary was bound, cut the oon) g her about. the Mire bounded into and left his braves to fight without.a In five minutes after the first.shot was not an_Indian;was tobe seen, except, the d and dying, upon the ground. The latter were soon. sent.on.the long dark trail by Tom Clark, who did. not. wait for them to complete their death-songs, and who_after- ward went. around: lifting hair, while Kit and Joe kicked away the wood and cut loose poor Will from the tree. “Where in the name of Heaven _is.Mary, Will?” exclaimed Kit, in a hoarse, excited voice ; but he got only a wild, insane stare as.an an- swer from the ranchero. Reckless Joe busied himself. in bathing the wounds of Will, while Kit and Tom i minutely everything about the ranch, for some clew as to. the whereabouts of the young girl, but_they had no success. The dead bodies of seyenteen Indians lay scat- tered about the scene of torture, and near the cabin. Some fifteen they thought might have escaped. Jt had been a dear raid for the In- dians. “Kit,” said Tom, ‘‘ I'd ’a’ gi’n my sculp to’a’ got heresum.sooner. _We c’u’d.’a’ cleaned out ther hull caboodle, an’ had a smart. chance: to hav’ saved the family.” ‘*T wish to God we had, Tom.” “Thar’s one thing sure, Kit, and sartain;.a heap on ’em has passed in thar checks, and quit the game without hair. I ha’n’t had sich a show to lift sculps since we were. at. Santa Anna’s Peak. ‘Yer lookin’ blue, ee but. never ou mind; the reds hasskuted with Molly, ut we'll strike their trail, come sun-up, and get her from them, if we has tew scout clean tew the Staked Plains.” ‘You don’t know who has got her, do you, Tom?” exclaimed Kit, in a dubious tone. ‘‘ He’s the hardest and fastest rider this side the Rockies. I know his sign, for I’ve been on his and the w leader. trail many times. He’s a pard of Big hm w. Comanche chief, and they call him This ain’t the first bloody work I’ve seen. of _his “doing.” “Tf it had not been for the Tonkaway they’d got Will, dead sure, but, what's done is done. I reckon it would have a mercy if they had pu Will up: but come, Kit, let’s go andsee how oe gets along with him.” As Kit and Tom approached the scene of tor- fp yey Shely stomped ery of the Tonk- awa: came gupona mustan sas Mee Sheer pores 0 the Bangers that ha mn left down the river, w char, the Indians. rf ‘*Hallo, Raven, yer jist in time ter be late; ther fapdanee, are over an’ ther music has gone up creek, Couldn’t you find t’other boys,.or what's the matter? 6.c’n'd ’a’ made a r splurge if yer had ’a’ been here, an’ ye’ve lost y it, sare,” ‘“Raven no find white warriors,” exclaimed the Indian, regretfully; ‘“camp-fire gone out— trail points to Bravo—Rayen come quick, as fde—Kill one horse—cotch one on prairie,” inne Indian sprung from his mustang down among the dead Comanches, sp g.. them with his feet, and gazed with bitter hatred upon the silent forms. Tom in a | ’ll tellus eve low..tone, ‘‘I reckon.thar’s a, heap o’ the red | ‘Pll bet my sombrero,” protested Tom, ‘‘ that in less time than Pd take ter skin a buck Raven danged red v hat’s knocked un- der, an’ how ther scrim started.” “* Boys,” announced less Joe, for once in his life wearing a serious air, ““T’ve fixed up Will’s wounds, but I reckon he’ll never be good fer much; he’s wild—crazy as a loon, and I don’t wonder at it; such a sight as I pray God I may never see in. We must bury these ied mutilated bcdies out of sight, and then per- Ps Will may. be more like himself.” I seen a spade nigh the corral,” said Tom, ‘fan’ [ll tote it this-a-ways, then we'll dig a grave big enuf fur all three. Tom. at-once went to the spot designated, re- turning. shortly after with the article mention- ed, and commenced to dig a grave not far from the dead bodies, beneath the shadows:of a large tree. Will Halliday still sat with the same in- sane glare in his eyes, gazing fixedly at the dead before him, while Kit and Joe stood with folded arms, watching Tom as he threw the rich soil from the grave. “Gentlemen,” said Kit, earnestly, ‘‘this forced inactivity smaddens me, when [I know Mary is inthe hands. of the red fiends; but I know it isugeless to try and do anything until daylight, unless. the Tonkaway, with his keen eyes, makes some discovery.” Kit’s remarks were here interrupted by am, who sprung from the new-made grave, an wiped the sweat from his forehead, sa: : “Waal, boys! I reckon that’s more ? than I’ve done in sum months—not since we that big scrimmage in the Wichita mountains.” ‘Yes, Tom,” answered Kit, ‘‘that will do. Why did you not.allow us tohelp you as it was a hard job?” ‘““T wanted no help, Kit,” answered Tom; “Mrs, Halliday war alwis kind ter me, an’ Pll feel better, seein’ it had ter be did, that I helped lay her away decently. I’m going ter fix the grave nice an’ soft.” And Tom then climbed up a post-oak, and threw. down long masses of Spanish-moss to read upon pe beeen ve tes The ngers then dro eir hats upon the grass, and reverently litted the dead and laid them side. by side in the grave—three generations, grandmother, daughter and aie of eh Will, watching every movement with flashing eyes, crawled on. his hands.and knees. to the h of the grave, ‘took his place there, gazing . down at his dead dear ones. It. was a.solemn and impressive sight; the smoldering cabin at times sent up a fork of flame, and then died down, causing a lurid gloom to hover over all. The swaying festoons of moss cast fantastic shadows about the strange scene, and black clouds went sweeping .across the heavens, at times hiding the hazy moon. __ “Can yer say a prayer, Kit?’ asked Tom. “Dye fergot ’em all what my mother l’arnt me me on me that I has.” ears ran down the cheeks of these ‘h ran- gers. of.the prairies as Kit, with a trembling yoice, muttered a prayer for the murdered in- nocents in the grave beneath bim. As the deep, sincere and solemn ‘‘ Amen!” left the lips of the Rangers the Tonkaway glided ap noiselessly tothe grave, with his hands full of flowers, and scattered them over the dead, 8a, : UT hey good to Raven—give meat when hun- —let_him lay by fire when cold norther lows—Raven heart full, sorrow—Raven find trail, kill Comanche. dogs—know chief—know how many warriors—know where gone.” “Whar yer bin, Tonk?’ exclaimed Tom, in surprise ; te as wet as a bogged buffler. Did yer, fall in ther river?” “No,” amswered Raven; ‘‘neyer fall—Co- pena fall in river from tree—Raven go dive or Rayen at this held up to view the dripping trophy so much prized by his people. “Waal, I must say yer hanker arter hair worser ’en I do ter go into ther river fur it; but we'll jist fill up ther grave, boys, an’ see what the Tonk’s found out.” Tom took the — and was about to push in the earth, when Will sprung forward, wrenched the spade from his hands, and again took his parce at the head of the grave, his eyes glaring a * maniac’s, the spade clutched tightly inh Ss. ‘‘Let bim alone, boys,” said Joe, ‘ you can| tree, but when Joe mentioned his name, he strode toward the smoking ruin of the in, saying: ‘Co e—-Raven will wise words.” All four halted as they reached the ruined ranch, and the Indian again addressed thc m.
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4: ~— ‘See, Comanche climb tree, here—get shoot —fall in river—more climb that tree—five,” holding up his hand with fingers and thumb ex- tended. “Count tracks—bark scratch—limb broke— | make big noise over there—Injun in tree—break roof, drop down—kill old squaw—see!— where drag ’em—Will shoot, Mary heap brave; she shoot—two Injuns kill in cabin—burn most up see!” and the Indian pointed out two charred forms amid the cinders, saying: ‘‘too bad— lose scalp—so many Injun dead—heap—twenty —so many go up creek,” indicating on his fin- rs fifteen. ‘* Bear Claw chief—he take Mary rom tree—run fast to horse—ten miles away now—but we catch him—Raven know ford—” “Then for God’s sake let us start at once,” ex- claimed Kit, impatiently, ‘‘ and not linger here. Come on, boys; to horse!” Away, like the wind, went the Rangers and the Indian up the Medina river beneath the shadows of the live-oaks, at break-neck srr leaving Will Halliday seated alone at the ead of the grave watching his dead. CHAPTER IV. THE COMANCHE CAMP. Wuen Bear Claw bounded through the post- oaks, with the unconscious Mary Halliday, he soon came to where his war-party had left their mustangs. Making his way through them, he . halted by a powerfully-built horse, as black as midnight, pawing the sward impatiently. The horse gave a neigh of recognition as the Indian chief loosened the lariat, after laying Mary down at the foot of a tree. Springing into the saddle he urged the animal td where pee lay, still unconscious, stooped down, and with an apparent slight effort, swung the senseless form up in front of him. The mus- ‘tang snorted and pranced for a moment at the unaccustomed load, but was quieted by a few words from the Indian chief. Bear Claw sata moment like a statue, his eagle-feathers min- gling with the Spanish moss which hung from the finite above him. He bent his head toward the scene of the massacre, and as there came a rush of many dark forms beneath the trees, the prolonged yelp of the black wolf issued from his lips, which was answered by the hooting of owls as his warriors sprung upon their mustangs, and urged them up around him. ear Claw gave a deep ee of anger as he saw how his followers had been reduced by the deadly fire-arms of the Rangers. ‘‘Do the white dogs with fast-shooting guns follow our trail?” demanded the chief, anxiously. “Do they know the Rose of the Medina rides in the arms of Bear Claw? Where are my braves? I see not ran Speak, Red Fox.” ‘The Indian Bear Claw addressed rode close up to Lim, before replying. ““The white ‘dogs weep over dead squaws— not stop long—heap mad—Eagle Eye Carson on trail soon—want squaw—no find Red Rose— know Bear Claw got him—the Red Rose—got with heap blood— Fox has spoken.” “Did the Red Fox see the Eagle Eye Carson? Will the young white chief follow the trail of _ Bear Claw?” “Red Fox see—Eagle Eye will come—fast- shooting guns,” answered the warrior. ‘Come, warriors of the Pecos,” cried Bear Claw, authoritatively, ‘the white dogs will find a long, blind trail; the Eagle Eye’s squaw will sweep the lodge of an Apache chief.” Bear Claw swung his quirt about the hams of his mustang, who, with a wild snort bounded away through the darkness up the Medina river, followed by the remainder of his war-party, who urged their animals to their greatest s ; - On, on, they went, like fiends let loose from Hades, through the dark shadows of the oaks. On, on, hour after hour, until the break of day, when they dashed down the banks of the Me- dina, and into the cool waters, allowing their mustangs to drink; they themselves throwin the water with their hand: up into their parch mouths, as only an In can. Poor was still unconscious, and it was evident the chief wished her to remain so, or he would have revived her with the refreshing waters of the stream. They Lip te but a moment, then scrambled up thé steep bank to the other side, and galloped thidugh the bottom timber out on the open prai- rie beyond. Here, at a command from Bear Claw, a war- rior sprung from his mustang, gathered some twigs and grass, struck a with flint and steel, and then with water from a gourd, so sprinkled it, that a column of white smoke arose, and all watched intently for an answer to this “‘ prairie telegram.” They had not long to wait, for another col- umn of smoke soon appeared, some three miles up the river, and the Indians a; started in a fast lope toward the point from which the signal arose. It took but a short time, at the ees | ce which they rodé, to gain this point, and they were soon riding into the camp of another war- Wild arty of their tribe, consisting of some fifty heaves, who looked in wonder and amazement at the small number of warriors which made up the party of Bear Claw. * The latter passed the still insensible form of Mary to one of the Indians, who placed her on the ground beneath a small shelter made of Mexican blankets, after securing her wrists to- gether by buckskin thongs. A tall, finely-formed warrior, whose eagle- plumes and silver breastplate showed him to be a chief, stalked across the camp and approached Bear Claw, who stood where he had dismounted, awaiting a welcome. Each chief drew a scalp- ing-knife and ran the blade into the ground at his feet, and each took the hand of the other, and placed the same upon his heart, as a token and sign of ace and brotherhood. “Bear Claw is a t warrior,” said the strange chief, ‘‘and is welcome to the fire and venison of Black Wolf. Where are the braves Bear Claw took toward the big water? Have the Sat dogs sent them on the dark trail?” re braves are taking the big sleep,” an- swered Bear Claw, ‘‘ but they took many scalps. Eagle Eye Carson has many braves—shoot fast, their guns never empty—my warriors were making torture-fire—t oy fell like old leaves before the north wind; the bullets of the Ran- gers fly like the ice-hail among the Sioux.” ‘““How many braves has the le Eye?” asked Black Wolf. ‘‘ Will he follow the trail of Bear Claw?” ‘‘ The smoke of the white dog’s lodge blinded Bear Claw—he cannot tell—he will come—Bear Claw has stolen his squaw. Look!” said the chief, pointing to the wicky-up. ‘The rose of the Medina—her spirit is in the land of dreams —she is as a fawn—Bear Claw will take her to his eae beyond the big plain.” A look of rise and admiration spread over the features of Black Wolf, as he gazed upon the form of Mary, who seemed, even in her un- conscious state, to be aware of the savage scru- tiny; she writhed, moaned, opened her pale li and bloodshot eyes, looking up in terror at the painted demons before her. The sight of them brought all the dread hor- rors of the night previous back to her mind; a long wail of anguish burst from her lips, and her face became of a more deathly hue, as she mr lost. consciousness, et turned to Bear Claw, and ad- dressed : ‘* Bear Claw’s res igh fair as prairie flower— look much sick—she will die before she see big plain—got good scalp for Bear Claw’s shield.” ‘The Rose of the Medina will not die,” said | Bear Claw; ‘‘she will bring wood—she will cook | venison for Bear Claw,” and he stepped to the | fire, took from the coals a | the ashes from it, and carried it to the captive. large steak, shook Releasing her hands from behind, he tied them loosely in front, as she recovered her senses, so she could eat; he then placed the meat, her with some parched corn, upon a wooden platter, and set the same before ; She gazed at him with a look of horror, and shrunk back into the further corner of the shelter. ‘““Why does the Rose fear the Comanche chief?” asked Bear Claw. ‘He will keep her ee free of danger—the north wind shall not low upon her—she will be the queen in the vil- lage—sorrow shall not come to her lodge—the sun shall always shine upon the flowers where she treads.” A mingled look of terror and great fear from was his only answer. Black Wolf stood with folded arms in front of the wicky-up, and it was plain to see that he took more common interest in the captive maiden, but he wheeled about, and walked to the central portion of the camp, as if he feared his brother chief would discover his weakness. The camp was situated in an opening of about an acre in extent, quite clear from trees or brush. When Black Wolf had reached the cen- ter of the encampment, he gave a signal which brought his braves from all quarters around him, and then he addressed them: “Black Wolf is glad—his warriors have taken many scalps from the white-skins—their mus- tangs will make a wide trail. Black Wolf is sad—the scalps of Bear Claw’s braves at the belts of the warriors of the Eagle Eye Car- son. He a great chief—he will come for his uaw—he comes on trail of Bear Claw. War- ors, your eyes must be open—White Horse will take his braves, go where Bear Claw make watch for Eagle Eye Carson Rangers—Black Wolf will not move his camp—be not afraid— let them come.” Black Wolf waved his hand to White Horse, who, with a few quick motions, designated those that he wished to accompany him, and with five braves, armed with deadly Comanche bows, he , disappeared from view amid the trees of the Lar poette going down the stream toward e ford. White Horse and his braves had not proceeded far when a noble buck crossed their path, and rn Bae they were led a long chase over the river; caused a delay in their arrival at the ford that was favorable to those who were anxiously searching for the captive maiden. Will, the Mad Ranchero. THE TONKAWAY’S MISSION. Kir and his companions galloped steadily all the night without exchanging a dozen words; the nae was in the lead; and Tom remarked, as they reached the ford about half an hour after the party of Bear Claw had crossed, that, ‘“‘ He'd bet his interest in the Mexican Republic that Kit had not held his tongue so long afore since he was born.” They soon saw by the fresh trail down tho bank to the fort that the Tonkaway kad ben correct in his surmises in regard to the routo taken by the Comanches. Stopping a moment to water their mustangs, holding their Sharp’s rifles ready for instant use, they then rode up the ope te bank; here Raven turned his borse toward Kit, saying: «Eagle Eye stop here with braves—Raven see where Comanche gone—what do—no gone long.” The Tonkaway waited for no word of instruc- tions, but sprung from his horse, passed the bridle-rein to Kit, and went with long swinging strides over the trail of the war-party, and was lost to view in the bottom timber. ‘¢Tell yer what it are, Joe,” exclaimed Tom Clark, thoughtfully, ‘‘I reckon Kit are goin’ mad; he’s strange; ain’t like he used ter was; and his not slinging his gab seems awful ~ liar. Why, Buffler Bill alwis introjuced him as Professor Talker, of Talkerville!” “Don’t you bother him, Tom!” warned Joe, earnestly; ‘‘ he has that upon his mind which keeps him quiet: we’ll have hard work keeping him from doing something rash.” ‘I'm afraid so. I kind a-feel a choking my- self when I thinks of poor Will at that are grave in the post-oaks.” “‘] wish I could send word to Martha Wells in San Antonio,” exclaimed Joe, “for God only knows how this trail will end.’ ‘‘ Boys,” interrupted Kit, in a mournful tone of voice, ‘‘the reason you see me 50 silent that I’m thinking of Mary, and I feel confident Bear Claw has backers near. If we could only overtake him before he joins them!” ** You are about right, Kit,” answered Tom, quickly. ‘ I’ve bin thinkin’ all the time ’bout same thing. Wait till Tonk comes in. Here he isnow! He’sa red what one can tie fast to, every time.” In the regular Indian lope, Raven came up the trail, saying warningly as he got near: . “Come—muc aa here—sharp eyes on river —come, thick b up river—Raven got heap talk for white warriors.” The Rangers followed the Indian into one of the thickets which bordered the river above the ford, and all dismounted, seating themselves on the sward, secure from observa’ on, holding the lariats attached to their horses in their hands, their rifles resting across their knees. The Tonkaway, with stoical indifference, lighted his pipe, and blew a whiff of smoke to each point of the compass, then passed the pipe to Kit, who sat next to Impatient as the Rangers were they knew the Indian character too well to speak before the pipe had been around; and, even then, hey were forced to wait until Raven broke the silence, which he soon did in a low voice, “Comanche trail go to open prairie; war- party stop there—light little fire—make smoke —mustangs no stamp round much—no stay long—get answer—another smoke—ride fast up river—heap big war-party up creek—Raven know where.” ‘“‘That’s just our luck,” exclaimed Kit; *‘ but, bove, if ther’s a thousand red-skinned Til hang on their trail for a chance to save Mary from the infernal, bloodth fiends. You had better go back and look after Will, and then, joining our company, tell Captain Foren t there’s game up this way for im. ‘“‘ Kit!” exclaimed Tom, ‘‘ when I slip a trail on a pard yer can jist set me down fur a Greaser. I hope I'm half white, and Joe is b’ilin’ over at e; the idea of our lettin’ yer play a lone hand! e’ll stick!” “You are right, Tom,” added Joe, in a tone which showed that his feelings had been hurt by what Kit had said; “I never was known to desert a friend, and it’s late in the day for me to begin that sort of a game, even if I the de- sire. If I had been on the back-out it would have showed up before. Now, I'll tell you what I think. I have a planin my mind that will po all in a better fix for the hot work “Go ahead! Give it to us,” ordered Kit, “Here it is, then, boys: Let Raven ride as fast as his nag can take him to San Antonio, and get Jack Hodge, Clown, and as many of the boys as he can, who are spoiling for a fight; they will come, you can bet high on’ that, and a halt a dozen of us, armed as we are, will be able to make a rush into the camp of the reds, and get Mary before they know what we are after. Raven can also leave word for Burleson, and some of the boys will carry the news to him about the raid; and when he knows about it he will come if northers were blowing. Here, Raven; all you have to do is to give this silver star to Jack Hodge, and he’s on the trail at once, you bet! He owesme a life, and he won't
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Wild W. back, no matter what’s ahead. And you goand see Martha Wells, you know where she lives, vi the little church; tell her ’moff ona long trail, and am as happy as a hog in a mud-hole. ‘*Has yer got through, Joe?’ demanded Tom, ‘‘for lL reckon you and Kit has traded tongues, by the way yer run on; but Llikes yer talk. It jest suits me.. What yer think about this new ay out, Kit?” “T think it is a good plan,” answered Kit, | ‘‘for with a few more boys we can make it hot for the Indians, no matter how many there are of them, But how do you know, Raven, where they are camped, and how many there are?” “Turkey buzzards tell Raven where camp— fly over camp—wait Injun go—then pick bones —know heap warrior or no camp near ranches —white braves stop here—Raven go see.” Before the Rangers could say a word, the Tonkaway had disappeared in the underbrush up the river. “Weal,” exclaimed Tom, in surprise, ‘I'll jist be chawed into hash by an alligator if that red don’t beat every deal; yer can’t help from likin’ the cuss fur he ain’t afeared of nothin’. Now, ten to one, if I crawled up ter that Co- manche camp I'd lose my sculp. Joe, I’ve gota bottle of p’ison whisk’ in my saddle-bags that’ll kill as fur as yer can shoot.” Tom produced the bottle, and passed it to Joe, t. who, after taking a drink, returned i ‘‘ Here’s hopin’ that we'll git outer this scrape!” said Tom, gazing with satisfaction at the bottle, ‘‘ and spile a few Comanches fur futer And after nearly emptying it, he stood and looked at Kit a moment, in a thoughtful manner, bei addressing him “Rit, stuff, an’ I won’t insult yer by shovin’ it at yer. I'm a tuff cuss, I know, when I git b’ilin’ over with rum, but I ain’t bad enuf to urge a man ter drink what don’t. What yer doin’ Joe?” ‘Well, me noble duke, I’m penuing a few rose-tinted lines of fairy language to the lady of me heart, for that noble red-man to take to San Antonio. He’s not a carrier-dove, I know, but necessity gives me no choice.” _“*Good fur yer, Joe!” exclaimed Tom, appro- vingly; ‘‘ Martha Wells is a noble gal, an’ so’s the red, too. Martha’s got true Texas grit, an’ I don’t blame yer fur ’ soft on her. her yer sittin’ on a bank of roses an’ writin’ with a moonbeam. Kit, bet yer aslug I can streak her through that Comanche camp on ther lope, Shoot half a dozen reds, and not git skin broke!’ | “*Don’t, for mercy sake, talk that way,” re- ‘sponded Kit, anxiously. that whisky.” “ Bosh!” returned Tom, bluntly; ‘‘ that whisk’ has nothin’ ter do withit. I can’t lay still long; Thanker fur sculps when they are so dan near, an’ 1’m spoilin’ to twist my fingers in manche hair. I tell you what, boys, I’m a-goin’ ter take a smoke ter pass time.” goons bis wipe and lay back on the bank to shioy it while Joe wrote his note to Martha, and Kit, with his hat pulled over his eyes, lay lis. tenting impatiently for some sound which would indicate the return of Raven. It was an hour before the latter glided in among them, and showed, by his aa F breath- ing that he had run fast and long. At last he broke the silence: “Ravensay right—big cam —see ad Pm tie up in blanket wigwam— look much sick—cry heap—Raven heart beat hard for Eagle Bye sqvew tmp big chiefs in camp, Bear Claw, Black Wolf—Raven go quick San Antonio—must have more white warriors —ride fast—be there when dark come—Eagle Eye stay here—no go Comanche camp—lose scalp—Raven come—then heap fight may-be-so ood-by.” ven at once sp on his mustang. ‘* Hold, Raven!” exclaimed Joe; “here, take is to Martha Wells; also find Jack and give this star, sure.” Kit gave one spring, grasped the bridle-rein of the Indian’s horse, his eyes wild, and said, in a hoarse, unnatural voice: “Look, Raven! Don’t ve back on me. Tell the boys it is life and death; that the best girl in the world is in the power of the Co- chatee th and if they don’t come quick I'll char; e camp if I have to italone. Do ou think they will harm or m her, or tor- ure her? Here! look me in the eye, and tell me the truth, Raven: spit it out white, plain and square. Come! speak!— ‘‘Bear Claw no hurt Mary,” answered the , onkaway, as he looked without flinching into : eye o Kit; “keep her for w—take her j >, tong trail—go to village on b g plain—so he ¢ :ink—Raven think get her back—she again ith Eagle Eye before moon small.” Raven whirled his quirt high over his head and lashel his mustang, who s rung, with a wild snort, over the brush, and horse and red rider were ina moment lost to view, as they dashed down the bank across the ford. CHAPTER VI. THE TONKAWAY’S GREAT RIDE. THE Tonkaway, his head bent forward, his mustang urged on jn a wild gallop by the tor- fi'tin’?” “Tmsorry you drank many warriors ill, the Mad Ranchero. & turing quirt continually applied to his hams, kept on the same trail down the bank of the Medina river that he passed over with Kit and the other Rangers the previous night. He was within a mile of the scene of the mas- sacre when loud shouts and oaths in the Span- ish tongue reached his ears from the prairie to the south, beyond the bottom timber, beneath the shade of which he was riding. Raven immediately turned his horse in that direction, and soon the border of the woods poresiied him to gain a view through the ranches of the prairie. Here a sight met his gaze which made him wish Kit and the boys were with him. A score of Mexican bandits were collecting the cattle and horses of Will Halliday, and. the bravado they showed in approaching so near to San Antonio satisfied Raven that they belo: to the band of that noted outlaw, Juan Cor- tina. The TonkaWay was sure, ata glance, that in went Be hours’ time — ne eae of alliday’s property wo’ ar away to- ward the Rio Grewie: He paused but an instant to take in the situ- ation of things, knowing that he was powerless to prevent the wholesale robbery, mutter- ing to lf: : ‘Poor Wil'—much heap trouble,” he once more bounded down the river toward the ruined ranch, where, after a few. minutes of hard rid- ing, he arrived. ven cast a hurried glance toward the grave; Will still sat in the same position, gazing down at his dead, and there was the same insane mad ness in his eyes that all Indians r as well on cree’. and the Tonkaway gave ill a wide rt Raven slackened the speed of his mustang among the dead Comanches, and springing from the animal he secured a many-colored Mexican blanket, or serape, and a little further on, the hat of Will, which had been left behind by the Indians; the latter he adjusted upon his 9 after removing his head-dress of eagle feathers, and the former he wrapped about him, saying to himself: “Raven meet pale-face—think Raven Co- manche—shoot Raven—have hat—have blanket —no shoot;” and thus changed in appearance, he once more galloped down the river. e was then twelve miles from San Antonio. On, on galloped the faithful Tonkaway through the live-oaks, his eyes glancing suspi- ciously upon all sides. The sun sunk toward the west, leaving the timber in a twilight gloom. Passing the Mexican haciendas, on the high bank of the river, just on the side of the Pleas- anton trail, Raven went plunging down into the ford, allowing his mustang but a moment to take a swallow, which he greatly needed, well rts must not allow him to drink too much. He then urged his horse out of the cool stream and went speeding on through the mes- quites, toward the Alamo City. Mile after mile was passed over, and the mus- tang began to show signs of giving out, for he was covered with foam, and traveled at a stag- t. The sun had passed below the western hori- zon, as the exhausted and broken-down horse fell to the earth, just upon the borders of the mo in which stood the old Mission of St. neeption. Raven stay Sameses bridle and saddle, taking them into one of the old cells, used for- merly by, the priests, but now occupied by thou- sands of bats. A In another moment cg was in the ong strides peculiar to his people, making his way through the chaparral, and in less than an hour he arrived in the vicinity of Madam Condleno’s fan house, which was just one mile from the Main Plaza of San Antonio. It had now been dark some time, and the In- dian’s sharp ears detected the sound of music long before ‘he reached the celebrated dancing- house. His thoughts were upon how he should find Jack Hodge and Clown, and, ti of them ane Seats, abarecteT, he — that the fan- ango ought no passed by. As Raven came close up to the house, the noise inside became deafening; curses both in Spanish and English were intermingling, and these were soon followed by a volley of re- volver-shots. Yells of agony, fear and death blended to- gether strangely, with loud and exultant shouts of Texans; and then a score of Mexicans rushed out of the door, and scattered through the thick eee with which the house was surround- Half a dozen Texans sprung outside and sent several balls whizzing into the brush after the Greasers. Raven glided behind one corner of the build- ing, and waited for the excitement to abate, muttering to himself: “Raven heap more safe—he Tonkaway— throw hat—throw blanket—put on eagle-feath- er—Raven no Greaser dog—git shoot. The Tonkaway once more stood in his own true character, and was made happy by recog- nizing the voices of Jack and Clown among the Texans, as they returned to the house, laughing over the retreat of the cowardly Greasers. The Indian walked around the corner, and in an instant. stood in the center of the dirt floor, his hands extended, palms outward, toward the Texans, his scalping-knife at his feet, the blade sticking in the earth. Quickly as Raven had executed this maneu- ver, he was not so quick but ‘several deadly tubes were leveled at him; buta warning cry from Jack Hodge caused them to drop. Jack ae toward the Indian, grasped both extended palms, and gave them a wring that showed his regard for the Tonkaway, had not welcome beamed from his round red face. “ Boys!” exclaimed Jack, earnestly, turning to the other Texans, ‘‘any. man what harms this red has got me to clean out arterwards; he’s white, no mistake! Clown! don’t yer know ther Tonk? Yer gittin’ blind?” The person addressed came toward the In- dian, rubbing his eyes, saying: ‘‘Them dog- gone candles kinder blur a feller’s peepers arter cumin’ in from ther dark. Wal, [ll jist be- chawed up an’ spit out by a Colorado cat-fish if it ain’t Raven! In ther name of Crockett, whar e cum from, black-bird?’ and Clown gave the ndian a hearty shake of the hand. The two persons who have now entered on the scene deserve more than a passing notice. Jack Hodge, so long: known in Texas as a stage-driver, Indian and Mexican-fighter; and at one time a city marshal of Antonio, was a short, thick-set man, who always had a’plea- sant greeting for every one, and a happy and contented smile beamed continually on his face. In whatever society he found himself he was sure to use more or less stage and stable slang; but he was quick on the trigger and a sure shot. Clown was about the same build, although not so stout; and having been shot once almost to pieces by the Indians, was not mores straight in his upper works. He was a notori- ous character for many years in Texas, having fought alone on the Pecos river fifteen Apache Indians, killing nine and driving away the re- mainder; his limbs were somewhat crippled: b Se and he was an inseparable pard of J oo ge. As Clown grasped the hand of Raven and in- quired, in his peculiar way, the news, Jack burst out, impetuously: ““Tll bet my mustang ag’in’ two bits that ther cuss has news as black as ther bird he’s named , arter. I called one of my crack leaders, on the best team I ever yanked ribbons over, ‘ewan? an’ ther cuss was alwis takin’ ther bit atween his teeth an’ tryin’ to break the coach.” The Indian slipped his hand into his pouch, and took out the silver star, and it to Jack, and a crowd of senoritas, who had been dancing before thé row, now gathered around. “That star,” said Jack, in a confident tone, “is from Reckless Joe, an’ means I’m wanted, and I reckon you, too, Clown; you need not think I'd sling myself on a trail without you. Spit it out, Tonk; \hat’s up? Jist had a scrim- mage with them: Greasers. Thar’s four on’em in the corner thar, what’s stalled; yer can skulp ’em, Tonk, ef yer hard up fur hair. The yaller- skinned pepper-eaters thought they’d boss this f , but#hey slipped up on it, yer bet, an’ ag e a foot ag’in without it’s over a hot ‘Raven no time for scalp,” exclaimed the In- dian, showing a shade of impatience. ‘‘ Come, Jack—come, Clown—Raven got heap talk— chaparral close by—have council—must see Joe squaw—no time—come!” The Tonkaway led the way out of the door into the darkness, followed by Jack and Clown, leaving the other Texans and Mexican girls gaz- ing at each other in silent wonderment... + ut this did not last long; the dead Greasers were thrown out into the brush, and the sound of music and dancing rung out once more, as if nothing had happenéd to mar the enjoyment of the —— The Tonkaway and Texans went but a short distance into the chaparral, then seated then- selves closely to each other, upon the-grass in the thick brush and thicker darkness, where the Indian addressed the two whites: ‘“Comanche thick on Medina—burn Will Hal- liday’s ranch—burn Cotton’s ranch—kill pap- paccesea old squaw—kill heap more—Mary, it’s w—Comanche = 4 her—tie up—Bear Claw take her to lodge— Will know nothing—do een Beg) J ven; Tom on trail—Bear Claw find Black Wolf—heap big war-party— Kit, Joe, Tom close by—watch Comanche— ven come want help—Raven want horse— want see Joe squaw—Jack ge—Clown sor more Texans go—get Mary—what say? ack speak!—Raven ear open—Raven done. ‘*Where did you leave the boys and when?” questioned Jack, in surprise. } ‘Raven start when sun up there,” pointing his arm in a direction to indicate four hours above the horizon. They at ford—half day ride —near Will ranch—ride to sunset—Mexicau stea] Will horse, cattle—drive to Bravo.” “Waal!” exclaimed Jack, in astonishment, ‘i never war hauled up by quite so sudden a jc rk
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6 Wild Will, the Mad Ranchero. ae CRE eT SS afore, Come, it won’t do ter sit here, We'll go to Sappington’s stable for our nags, at same time get one for you; Raven. Clown, yer in, ain’t you, old boy? Fumahead mixed with hard ridin’ an’ close feed. We'll try an’ git some other boys ter go.” The three walked quickly toward the: road which led into’ San Antonio, as Clown an- swered: “Go! you better bet lm: imevery time, Jack, when you are; nothin’ can us until one or tvother passes in'ther checks: I hain’t got: no ood-byes to sling, so that won’t hinder me; no- cares for me but you.” ie Thar’s whar yer dangly fooled, Clown,” re- turned Jack. ‘‘Many a man owes\yer thar friendship; yer: war alwis ready tew hitch up fur a long run, no matter how-fur it war atween stations, a ees what were’ in trouble. I keep thinkin’ about the boys. Here we are on the Plaza. Tonk, does yer want a drink of fire- water?” “No,” answered the Indian, quickly,’ ‘‘fire- water on trail—bad ‘every time—make In- jun big fool—make white man fool—Raven ‘he no drink—no ’fraid’ whole Comanche nation— Raven drunk—maybe'he’fraid cayotee—fight himself—take own scalp.” “Ha! ha! ha!” laughed» Jack; ‘‘ that’s ‘ther best temperance lecture I’ve’ heard fur a month of Sundays. Yer head’s level, Tonk, every time; id got: more sense than half the white men. ere we are at. Sap’s; Clown; yer run down ter the widow Wells’s with Raven, an’ stick Joe’s letter under therdoor. If yer goin the wimmin will keep yer slinging tongue, I’ll hey the hosses |. Clown and the Tonkaway glided ‘down’ the dark street, turned to the right, and soon came tothe co where Martha Wells, the sweet —_ of Rec sive alined ths te aie e noiselessly sli the letter under the door, and upon Aires x back to the stable found Jack with two horses equi for the road; and ee by a lariat for the Indian, un- for he was to get his saddle and bridle at the Mission, as they passed it. Raven drew the rope, with a twist, around _ under ae — — es mee ers we three, an easy 3 e through the almost deserted streets. “ig Jack stopped a moment at Jack Caile’s bar- room, to procure a bottle of whisky, and: to tell the barkeeper the news in re to the raid, leaving word with him to inform others, who would be eager to join in the pursuitiof the Indians, Bounding once more on his horse, which the /Tonkaway had: held, all. three: went’ like. the = out of the city and through the mesquite rees, As they came to the fandango-house, Raven said: “ Raven: catch »you ,” and sheered his’ hound off the trail into the chaparral: Jack and Clown did not slacken: their pace, knowing the Indian would keep his:word: “T'll bet my sombrero ag’in’ a shuck ciggarett’ that ther Tonk’s gone fur thom dead Greasers’ Jack was correct; the Indiam seemed by in- stinct:'to ‘know where the Mexicans*were that had been shot in the row, and soon ‘tore ‘their a the blanket’ and hat he had left pig Bae also a revolver knife from one of the es. This occupied him but a mo- ment, and he overtook his two friends'as:they neared the Mission. Here Raven sprung from his horse; found his saddle-and bridle by groping about the» ruin, pe er instant was equipped again for’ the Jack and Clown were each armed with Sharp’s rifles and those death-dealing weapons, Colt's revolver; the Indian a -as guide, they dashed away to the aid of Kit jJr., and his companions. 1 ede CHAPTER VIL A FRIENDLY BEAR, We left Kit and his ‘comrades*hidden in the thicket, three miles below the Comanchecam when the Tonkaway started for’ San rnp after veg When Raven had disa | from their view, the boys seated themselves again wu a —Tom with his’pipe, and Joe ing: clouds of smoke through his ee as he took from: be» ph ne Prd teeth, in trae Mexican style; a shuck ¢ it walked ‘impatiently up and down the lit- tle natural spening, in which the rangers and their horses were concealed, his wild, wander- ing eyes observing every movement of Joe, Tom and the animals, as if in a measure to dis~ tract his mind from the great strain imposed upon him by Mary being a wom in the hands of bloodthirsty savages, and his forced in- eo de Suddenly the low, chuckling laugh of Tom, at some witty remark from Joe, turned Kit’s attention to them more i ly; but on again looking toward the a he was startled to see that they had jerked their heads trom the ground, the long reas still baoging from their mouths, and that they stood with eyes and ears pointed toward the: en- trance of the ‘trail, in the direction of the ford from ‘the | prairie; beyond where the’ signal smoke had been kindled by the Comanches. The ‘eyes of the omer easy 8 re and snap- ped, their ‘nostrils were distended, and a low snort, half fear, half surprise, burst forth: A-gentle hiss from Kit prevented the animals from making any loud noise, as they were well- trained prairie steeds that had traveled much on all sorts of trails. i Stop your smoking, boys,” commanded Kit; ‘“‘there’s reds within a quarter of a mile of us, sureas shooting. Leave'the rifles right here, and no shooting with sixes'either, or we're gone ’coons:; We've got hot work before Raven gets back. And just remember—nothing: but ‘cold steel'to'do it with; Now’s the time to do some fine scouting ‘and slashing, too, I reckon; M opinion is they have sent a small party to wate the ford, not thinking that we have crossed yet. but they’ll see by our trail we're ‘here, ‘and no one must’ ever reach their camp again 'to tell on us. Are-you' both weeny All this was rattled off by the fastest kindof talking; and in alow voice. Joe and/Tom had sprung to their feet at the” first indication of danger by the horses, and all three stood close to each other, every’ sense strained to its utmost. As Kit ceased’ speaking Tom laid one of his hands upon his'shoulder, the other on Joe's, and said, hurriedly: “Kit, yer jist right way, cording ter ther way I put things» up; they have sent sum of ther red cusses'down to keep a look-out’ fur us'an’ we’ve got tew wipe ’em out or our game’s up; we're ‘dished; and’ Mary’s* a’ gone angel: ow, look-a-here; I’ve noticed things; I alwis do. When ther Tonk left us ter go further per- rarie fur: sign, his trail: war ‘bordered: on ther right by ‘bushes »as’ thick ‘as these ‘around our nest’ here; an’ if that ain’t a cosey place’ ter lay fur'them reds an’ knife them, I don’t know nothin’ *bout an ‘ambush; but it’s got’ to be done now, ‘‘ Another thing, boys,” said Joe, earnestly, ‘‘is, that if there is more than we number 0 the red devils, as we have to use’ steel, take the last three first; and strike home to the heart every time, then gO for those ahead,” “Your head is level,” whi d ‘Kit; “now come on, and don’t forget what depends upon a single mismovement of an arm,” nd with a low hiss to the horses, the three Rangers glided silently through thebrush which bordered: their hiding-place, and entered” the bottom timber which was quite open. wae Eres neers of ‘the scouts in each and every ion “told them’ that: thé coast’ was clear, and with long stridés;in eeee file, they gs made their way toward ‘the ‘p: 6," avoidin the'trail: taken by *the*war-party; but keeping pemenes its edge in ‘the thicket’ was reached which bordered - this’ trail onthe as they crouched’ down and cut away sufficient brush to enable” each to —— into the trail upon anything that The ‘were not a°*momernt too soon,’ for they heard the low, guttural’ tones of an Indian “giving ‘instructions;"and an’ instant after’ they” had pared themselves for the expected fight, with their long bowie-knives fi , the Indians came insight: Just as the warriors came nearly abreast‘of those who were ready to pounce upon them, an incident) occurred so favorable to the Rangers that it almost assured success*in what might have been a very doubtful contest. Avhuge' black came waddling awkward- ly along between the post-oaks from the east own to-the river. The bear drew the attention ofthe Indians in ved 9 vera, and’ away from the dangerous cket. Their eyes were fixed upon thé bear as they came along within five feet of ‘the concealed , the next’ were buried to the hilt in the hearts of the last three Indians The*death-howls had not’ broken thesilence before the» Rangers, with blood-sprinkled gar- ments and:dripping knives;'sprung for the re- nee eo im front. Each Indian had his right hand at his quiver drawing arrows to shoot at’the bear; and as the death-yells of their comrades broke upon their astonished ears; they turned, but before they could fit arrows and pull bow, the Rangers were upon them.. It would have been more equal had they drop- their bows anddrawn their scalping-knives; t they were so taken unawares they had not an instant of time to act before the Rangers were gazing into their eyes. It was but a glittering, lightning-like play of steel for an instant, and then the hot life-blood (aera thé trail, and there came three ndian death-yells, hoarse and gurgling, echoing faintly through the bottom timber. It was all done ina moment’s time, and the last braves fell before the first had ceased to gasp and ‘contort -their’ limbs’ in their death- ony. “erhe Rangers sunk panting beneath the trees, upon the opposite side of the trail, a few yards from the dead Indians. ‘Six reds gone on the long, dark trail!” ex- claimed Tom, exultantly, ‘*an one of us gota scratch! It ar’ all owin’ ter that b’ar. I used ter hanker arter b’ar-meat, an’ I’m do gone hungry now, but I don’t reckon it wo chaw worth’a picayune.” ‘We bettér rope ‘the bear,” said’ Joe, castin ‘ a thankful; friendly look at the animal, ‘‘ an warn everybody not to harm him: We can put an undérlope on hisleft ear and split the right, so0'we'll know him ‘again.” “You may think me superstitious, boys,” said Kit, in a hesitating manner, ‘‘ but it’s something sin T in that bear happening to come alon ust in thée'nick of time; that bear was sen ere [reckon by one of our guardian angels, When things look most desperate somethi turns up ‘in our ‘favor.” “ve an idea!” cried Tom, suddenly bursting into'a low, chuckling laugh: : ‘Well, you’d better hold on to it,” sug ested J0é6, interrupting his mirth, ‘‘ for you don’t have them often; they are as few and far between as cold water springs on the Staked Plains.” “Sling yer'tougue, Joe,” returned Tom, with- out showing that he was offended; “‘ yer edica- ted, an’ got ther right; I knows yer don’t mean nothin’. “T was might mean to say it, Tom,” exclaim- ed Joe, ‘‘but no offense was intended; it was only'a joke, What’s your idea? Tllown you do have good ones; and often inthe brush and on the prairie help us all out, and that’s more than I can say for myself.” ee “Out with it, Tom!” exclaimed Kit, impa- tiently; “‘no use sitting here, marks’ for some skulking red,” “Waal, boys,” answered Tom, hardly able to restrain a laugh, ‘*my idea is to bind them dead réds, standin’ up, round that big oak by ther ford, and itll give every cu Indian that comes this way such a sudden set back that we'll git a better chance ter cut ther breath off. They'l think the Great’ Spirit has throwed ’em over. “Tt can’t do any harm,” returned Kit, “and I think, as you say, it may be a good thing for us “Hold on!” exclaimed Tom, springing to his feet; ‘‘we hain’t taken off thar nba, oo yet, Pick yer meat an’ take yer hair.” “Tom!” cried Kit, quickly, ‘‘don’t do it; 1 think it is ae cae to see a white man take a scalp, I y wish you would not do it, or it you do, let it be when I’m not about.” ““ Anything to please yer, Kit,” returned Tom, + see somuch hair wasted. Thar’s’ ‘but I hates enuf ‘ter trim a bridle up gay. Here we go, 5 * oy Penger pane Indian by th ac er gra an Indian by the arms, and him to the oak, which shold by the ford on the bank of the river, and could be plain- ly seen by any one coming from the opposite de. Returning to the thicket they dragged the other three also to the tree, and Tom went for, and soon returned with an extra lariat, one end of which he bound around the tree. The dead Indians were, one by one, stood up against the trunk by Joe—Tom keeping the rope ae tightly aboyt them to keep them in on. $ soon as the Indians were in position, the ee ae returned to the opening where they had ‘left: their horses, and threw themselves down on the green sward to rest, except Kit, an walking slowly up and down, broke out th: “ Boys, my mind is made up; I shall enter the Comanche camp to-night as soon as the darkness favors my design, and either rescue Mary from the fierids or find a way to relieve her mind b letting her know we're on the trail. You both can go to sleep. I cculd not take a wink at such a timeas this. I'll go and geta Ponuret from one of the dead Indians, and if need be I can disguise myself.” “Now, see or? > tata Seg “ ver ittin’ risky to think of such a danged dan os ob as that? wait till ther boys cum.” © or “That's talking ‘sense, Tom,” returned Joe, warmly; ‘* Kit, I don’t see why you can’t listen to reason.’ The boys will ride like a double-bar- reled norther, and will get here before m if nothing has happened to the Tonkaway.” * All the tongue vou can both sling,” said Kit, decisively; ‘‘ would not alter me one iota in my determination to release or relieve that girl's mind. lcan play my points alone easier with company. You'll see Kit will come out right side up with care.” ith that Kit parted the bushes and disap- peared after the preetien and to take a look about the ford and also up the trail toward the Indian camp. “Waal, Joe,” said Tom, sadly, ‘Kit are the dog-gon est, stubbornest human I ever run in’; he’s wuss than a Arkansas mule, Thar ain't no use a rf hard or soft talk at him; poll se you bet! I see him crawlin’ thru that cus Injun camp now, that ar’ T know jist how he’ll do it; but I say, Joe, luvs take a
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}ed Tom; ‘‘ when ar g ‘old snooze I take it and don’t sp’ile it with Wild Will, the Mad Ranch little snooze, an’ wake up ready fur blood an’ thunder, fur it’s comin’, bet yer last bit.” “Pm always ready, Tom,” answered Joe; ‘*Tll coil me noble form up.on the emerald- fringed banks of the rippling Medina and dream of me true love in the Alamo city, and of the Lone Starry hours. we've ed together. Buenas noches! Oh! I forgot, it’s daylight. f PPy be thy dreams,’ old pard. Adios!” *T ain’t so danged soft.as ter dream,” mutter- go in fur'a reg’lar genuine dreams. I sleep so little I can’t afford ’em. Dreams is a luxury, pard; goto sleep,” It was not five minutes before both of the ex- hausted Rangers were in a deep aor which comes only to those who pass their life in the open air, and who are almost constantly in the saddle, In the meantime Kit found everything quiet, rocured the point bag, and then came eilently, k to the hiding-place. Anxiously he looked at. the sun to noté the e of time, and with eager longing he waited for the dark shadows of night ’to fall in sable hue upon the prairie. CHAPTER VIII. THE GRAVE IN THE WOOD. Ir was not half an hour after the Tonkaway Indian left the ruined ranch of Will Halliday before a large half-breed horse, saddled and bridled, came fplloping wildly through the post- ones with half a dozen Mexicans in hot pur- suit. It was the same animal which Will had rid- den the previous night up to his cabin door, when chased by the Comanche Indians, an which he had n forced to let Joose as he sprung in to defend his wife and children. This horse was a favorite of Will’s, and had been made a great; pet of by all about the house. He had evidently wandered to the prairie, where he had joined the herd eye or to his master, and upon the sepaarence of the Mexi- can bandits, who strove hard to capture him, had stampeded for the ranch. The bandits were not twenty yards behind the hore as he dashed snorting up to Will’s side by 6 grave. The lasso of the robber who was in the lead was whirling over his head as he caught sight of Will’s wild, haggard face, the grave, and the dead Indians scattered about with gaping vounds and covered with gore. The Greasers took in the horrible scene in an ‘instant and comprehended the situation. Their sallow cheeks became of a deadly hue as Will, looking more like a corpse than a living human baing, arose from the grave and gave them a look which caused them to send, the long rowels of their spurs. into the flanks of their mustangs; when, whirling, they bounded with cries of fear and horror back through the timber, on the same trail they had come, not even daring to cast a look behind them in their headlong flight. he coming of the faithful steed had the ef- fect of brea the terrible spell which had bound Will to his dead. He knelt, down in the grave, and kissed his murdered darli and. in a trembli manner spread over them masses of moss, an pe filled up the grave in a careful, tender kind way. : wil then poo to a large pile of dry split rails, and picking out some of the heaviest, he carried them and put them el to each other over the resting-place of his loved ones, to protect them from the wolves. The horse cropped the grass about the at times jer ing up his head and t ears around, as if ve, his suspicious of the return of his would-be captors, and at others looking won- deringly at his master. There are some horses that to have more than human knowledge, and was one of them, After Will had covered the grave to his satis- faction, he raised, his clenched hands toward heaven, and muttered to himself, as if recording & vow of vengeance against those who had cast upon him such unbearable misery. He then seated himself again by the grave, and remained, with his head clasped in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees, until the shadows of night once more fell about his ruined home, and the eh began to hoot, as if deriding his misery, in the branches of the post-oaks overhead. ' He then sprung to his feet and bounded like _ enraged panther out among the dead ln- ns. One b F wedlcae apna hair and bel and hurled them with a giant’s strength ome iadintes asene tn Sekt t one be found his revolvers, which he quickly transferred to his seabbard egain, together with a large bowi ; Fg: 2s le ye, me oe man were ying in a the rails. “ Will then gathered a quantity of twigs and leaves, struck a ora pith his Aint ond steel, and igniting the kindlings, with a ghastly gratified, .revengetul smile, he. withs folded arms, awaited until the flames flashed up all sew ——— Eee around and about the bodies of those who had been the cause of his ruin. As the flames leaped 8 in fiery forks—at times flaring one side, as the breeze struck them —the forms of his’ enemies could be distinctly seen, when, with a maniac laugh, Will gd would leap into the air, and sénd wild yel ringing through the darkness which surrounded CHAPTER IX. BIG FOOT WALLACE AND HIS IRISH PARD. THe Tonkaway and his white companions rode at a headlong speed through the cha without ing a word to each other, and be- fore ten o’clock were at Pleasanton’s ford ‘on the Medina river. Down the bank they went, splashing'into the rushing waters, The night so far had been as dark’ as it could be. but the ground was well known to all ree, The horses buried their noses eye deep in the cool stream to quench their t and the moon, opamp up at their backs, cast a thotsand silver rays, flitting through the branches of the bottom timber over their heads; but the waters of the Medina rolled on if inky lackness, Jack’s lips were just parting to make some re- mark to Clown, when the deep silence of ‘the night was: broken’ by a cavern Baga which could only have proceeded from the lungs of a man of gigantic stature. The words seemed hurled down’ upon them like bowlders of rock. ** Who ther deuce are ‘ye? White; red, or yaller?) Spit her ont rite ar’ lively; or Yard won’t n one of yer strike dirt this side ther ford! Reckon'I boss ther Medina jist about now —t.at’s when I’m here.” As our friends gazed whence the voice pri on the opposite side, the forms of a man and horsé, both of “imi- mense size, were distinctly outlined against the moonlit sky, almost over their heads—seemingly much larger than they we were from the po- sition they occupied ‘and the moonlight,’ As they looked up, the moon’s rays glanced bright- ly along a rifle-barrel ‘held in the hands of the rider, and pointed directly down upon them. It was but a moment of silent astonishment, a sudden griping and elevating of ‘rifles, with our friends, and then came a loud and prolonged ee Jack, and his answer iS $f here, Big Foot, I reckon yer kinder a tin’ on extra airs. Does yer drive on this line? Draw up. yer shooter, an’ save ther charge; it’s needed up ther creek. If boss ther Me- dina yer make a danged poor job of it, ter al- low such goin’son as ha up the creek. Jist you "low yer animile tew balk thar till we drive up. Comeon, boys!” All three, with much oe and fallin back, finally gained the high above, eu rode up > he wo, Fore enemy eer made each cringe with pain as he gave them a hearty of the wha tai The giant horseman, whom our trio of friends had so opportunely met, was no other than Big Foot Wallace, noted as one of the most success- ful rangers and scouts on the Texas frontier. He was of giant build, with very large feet for even a man of his size. The extensiveness of his understandings had of Big Foot, and for him the sobri ew men, women, or children on the south, or south-west borders of Texas, but knew him per- sonally or by reputation. He was clad in a complete suit of tattered buck skin, made by his own hands, inrude fron- tier style; his long, dark-brown hair and griz- zly beard gave him a rough, wild appearance; but when you looked in his eyes ‘you felt sure that he was. a man you could trust in any emergency, even with your life. A broad-brim- mans black sombrero, was slouched carelessly on the back of his head; and his belt contained two large, old-fashioned Colt’s revolvers. A huge bowie-knife and a Sharp’s rifle, made up his fit-out in the way of arms. His horse was a powerful bay half-breed, well suited to bear his noble rough-and ready rider. As Big Foot gave the hand of the Tonkaway oT Beeut Til bet “7 th in’ a kayote, ~ er avin’ a ka that misc hief! Samnwhar an’ not more’n'a day’s lope from this, or that Tonk wouldn't be a-b’ilin’ round: with ye; I nevér yet seen that cuss but what I had tew do some tall shootin’, What’s up? I was jist a-goin’ ter San Antonio, ad, on bank” from en ane eee terbacca. “* Afo re L let’s-yer know what's on ther way- bill,” answered Jack, “‘I’d like ter know whar yer been drivin’, fur a week ——_ ‘* Waal, Jack,” responded Big Foot, “I’ve had jist ther wust run of danged ague I. ever had; housed in my ranch an’ shook *bout all ther straw off ther '; but, sling yer news, fur I’m spilin’fur sumthin’ fresh.” ‘“« Yer won't feel so well, when I tell yer,” re- turned Jack, in a mournful tone, ‘* but it’s got ter cum out. The reds are on the rampage above here up ther creek; they've. killed, and scalped Cotton’s folks, Will lliday’s wife, baby, an’ old lady, and got Melly, the ‘ Rose of ero. 7 the Medina,’ prisoner. Ther Tonk cum fur us an’ I’m mighty lad we met yer, fur yer wanted bad. Ther’s only Kit, Tom, an’ Joe on the trail so fur, “By ther blood o’ Crockett!” exclaimed Big Foot, meth “if the red cusses hav’ dun this— if ther hell-hounds hav’ ruined Will, my hate is doubled, and it were keen afore, I’ve toddled that baby on my knee: my hand has griped Will’s in wienneesy an’ so help’ me. ‘ Gehosi- hat,’ henceforth I’m his poy in, ‘vengeance. Froad on fur life or death !—but, hold a moment. I've got an Irish pard what I picked up a moon ‘cah’t leave him; he’s sleepin’in the brush—” With that, Big Foot spurred his horse about twenty yards up theroad, bent down in_ his saddle a man still half asleep upon the ground, sat him astride of a horse that wasfeed- ng near, gave hima shake, put the bridle in his hand, and in a loud, threatening voice, cried: ** See’ here,’ Larr: er better rouse’ yerself mighty speed: , or th tea0e yer wher ye’ll lose er sculp. Some on, if yer goin’ with me; thar’s hard ridin’, but.a heap of fun on ther end on’t.’ Saying this, Big Foot put spurs to his horse, and dashed back again to the party on the bank of the river, yelling béfore he reached them; ‘* Lead on, Tonk! we’re arter ye like hun wolves, an’ twice as desperate;” crd all four disappeared beneath the shadows of the oaks up the river. The Irishman rubbed his eyes a moment, gazed up into the moonlit heaven, gave a heayy yawn, and turned his head toward the fast-dis- appearing form of Big Foot. Rouse yerself, is it, Mister Big Huff? an’ be bbers it’s all the time I’m after bain’ roused, ees don’t mind the time of night at all at all. Hard riding, is it? "Pon me soul ’'m after think- ing it’s hard riding whin ye are all the time at it; an’ as to the fun I’m sure yees hes strange ideas of that same, What's that he was saying? Begorra! be’d Tave me here to Iese me scalp, that’s me hair, skin'an’ all. Git up, ye devil av a ‘horse, or I'll broke yer back wil mo stick, Bedad, what was I saying? Devila stick have T but a gun what ki ocks me sinses away ever£ time it spits fire. The curse on that same gun! Sure my arm is near broke wid it, Git up, ye devil ay a Laste! dident ye hear Big Huff sayin’ we'd be scalped?” And Larry yanked the bridle- rein, and struck the animal a violent blow with his’ ‘ Thee hores bounded snorting into the road, and down toward the ford; then halted so suddenly on thé brink of the bank, that Larry only saved himself from being itated down the steep into the river by clutching with a desperate gripe the cantle of the saddle behind him. ‘* Be the holy Moses!” yelled the frightened Irishman, ‘‘are yees making belave yees dident see where to go? Do yees want to get rid of me? Now, by the powers o’ pewter, ye’ll take yerself up the strame mighty lively, fur I hears the crackin’ ey bushes whare the b scout hav’ ao Ye'll take yerself that way, - walk r him, l’avin’ ye alone to be sculp- The animal whirled half-around, almost un- seating his rider again, and then dashed on after thé Rangers, and was soon within g distance, but the deep shadows, shade more dark and somber by the streaks of moon- tight, the galloping forms ahead of his friend Big Foot, whose characters he did not_ know and whose presence he could not account for, drowned all desire in the Irishman for conver- sation, and he did not even whisper to his horse, as was his custom. A few hours of hard riding brought them near thé ruined ranch of Will Halliday, and the wild yerls which struck their ears, together with the tight light ofa fire, caused them to quicken their pace to a faster lope. _ As they burst through the bushes, which bor- dered the clearmg in which the cabin bad onl a most strange scene broke upon their ew. A human form which all recognized as Will Halliday, was outlined against the fire, made the pile of rails: the dead Indians were ne consumed, and Will, his face painted blood-red with vermilion found in a paint-bagtaken from an Indian, his hair decorated with the gaudy head-dress of a warrior, was psi, 3 the fire with wood from thé corral, and as he would burl a lates into the flames uttered yells that wou vé honored any of the braves whore bodies he was now burning to ashes. All brought their horses to a sudden halt at the strange, wild scene, and Big Foot exclaim: ed, in a deep voice of eed he and grief: ‘Boys, this beats an ing ever yet seen; it kinder knocks me; why! Tl never sculp ano ther red if Wil] ain’t wild.” “ ¥e're right, Big Foot,” returned Jack, “1 dident e ter find things qnite so mixed He’s wilder’n a wounded panther, an’ I reckon he alwis will be, by ther look of him.” Lorry, with pale face and chattering teeth, kep horse near the border of the woods, crossing himself religiously and muttering: “Be the holy St, Patrick, what sort ey a cunthry is this? Sure, that must be the divel himself, an’ he’s afther startin’ a young hell here
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in Teeah and bedad! I’m thinkin’ they need it “Cum on!” shouted Big. Foot... ‘‘Cum on, boys! We can’t linger on ther trail.” All the party at this galloped up to the fire near Will, who was dancing and yelling around the bright blaze, which gave him a weird ap- pearance, as the livid light played upon his wild, painted features. “See here, Will, old boy,” called Big Foot; f**cnm with us and pay back blood fur blood. | Don’t you know the reds has got Mollie? Cum on an’ go for ’em like a man.” Seeing no sign that Will knew him, he turned to the Indians: ““Reckon yer war foolin’ *bout a_ big fight here; don’t see no corpuses. are ther reds what were knocked under?” ee Heap Comanche kill!” answered the Tonka- way. Will burn in fire.” “Oh, ho! that’s it, are it?” exclaimed Big Foot. ‘‘Cum on, boys; leave him here; now 2 save Mollie, ‘ the Rose. of the Medina,’ or ter e. CHAPTER X, KIT KEEPS HIS WORD. Ir is one of those morning hours when the god of sleep holds mankind most closely in -his arms; it is the hour when the sleep of the living most resembles that of the dead. It is the darkest hour of the night, for the moon, as if to favor him who is on.an errand of mercy—at the risk of his life—has hid her face behind the dun clouds. The Comanche camp is wrapped in gloom, for the fires are smoldering and vailed ially in their own ashes. Two score of human forms:lie in the close embrace of sleep, their hands still red with innocent blood. Here and there around the Indian encampment may be. seen. the form of a warrior, ronreiaty immovable as a statue, guarding his poe Pea aah ip Some are trees, seemingly asleep, but (air anskaline eyes are here, there and everywhere; for should one of these ap- pointed guardians of safety so far forget him- self and peril his brother braves by falli asleep he would be disgraced forever; his shiel and lance might be decorated with a hundred scalps, he might have done many brave deeds to recite in his death-song, but all would be as naught; henceforth he would be a squaw-brave, and Te finger of scorn would be pointed at him by_all. Just opposite the shelter of blankets in which “The of the Medina” lays bound. are stretched several braves, among them Bear Claw, while one sits, a grim sentry, at the opening. Back of the shelter, not ten feet away, crawl- like a snake, feeling every inch before him ere he ventures to worm himself along, remov- ing every twig that would betray his presence By preening under him—comes Kit Carson, Jr. teeth set, his eyes glaring with suppressed passion, for he can hear distinctly the sobs and moans of Mary, who is suffering greatly from her cramped position and the way she is bound, Kit has passed safely the outposts of the In- dian guard; will he be so favored through all his movements? God grant that he may! The most delicate work of his dangerous un- dertakin, before him. How will he, make understand that he isa friend? Will she not think him an Indian and shriek with alarm —raise the camp and doom him, she loves so well, to a horrible death? t is Me ae to the emergency. It is an easy thing for him to loosen a peg which. holds a por- tion of the blanket; the latter is soft.and pliable, and luckily it does not crackle as a dry skin shel- ter would. His hand, then head, then half, of his body are wormed beneath the blanket, His eyes endeavor to bore into the darkness. The Indian vege? Se between him and the glow of a smoldering fire; it is enough; he can see his out- Mary is not three feet from him; her arms are outstretched with the wrists bound to stakes driven in the earth; her limbs are secured in the same way. With a touch as gentle as a brave man touch- es a babe, Kit’s hand falls upon the calico sleeve of his darling, and is then raised above it so as not to touch the arm itself, and then. passes slowly eg” the darkness, for he has found which way the arm is extended. He strikes, as he has calculated, the stake to which it is bound; he knows the hand is not three inches below his. He slowly detaches from his hunting-shirt a silver star and reaches out to the stake again. Will the cool me*tal when be drops it into her hand startle Mary, and betray him? He presses the star between his hot palm to overcome the difficulty. The cold sweat stands in big beads upon his forehead; he becomes desperate; he nerves him- self for a sudden spring should she alarm the camp, and then p the silver in Mary’s Most fortunately her hand is so benumbed that the knowledge that something strange is clasped in her fingers comes slowly to her through feeling, owing to the tightness of the cords about her wrists, ON Fm mes Wild Will, the Mad Ranchero. The talisman does not startle her; as she feels it she knows it to be the ‘‘ Lone star of Texas,” and connects it with, the. Rangers who wear it, she knows that a friend.is near! Kit gently puts his hand in hers. Thank,God!, He feels a, pressure of recogni- tion from her, Slowly, and with the stealthy caution of a nther he draws himself along and presses his ips to hers—his long black hair falling about her tear-stained face. \His’keen knife, followed by his fingers to guide it, severs the cruel cords which bind her arms and limbs, and. then they are folded an instant in each other’s arms; then Kit presses her loved form back again to earth. Not.a word is spoken. A whisper would betray him to his death. The Indian guard must die; that is evident to Kit, before he can do anything more; and he must not only kill him ‘without noise but risk the piercing even of the pone around thecamp while doing the deed. It is a desperate game, but he must play it for so fair a winning. The camp.is silent as, death as Kit crawls be- hind the brave. His right hand clutches his long glittering bowie; his left stealthily glides up the Indian’s back; just clearing his quiver of arrows. The piercing shriek of a panther to the south of the camp attracts the Indian’s attention; also that of the ‘ds outside. Kit’s hand goes suddenly over the shoulder of the ace and with lightning quickness closes over the Indian’s mouth, bringing his head back against his own breast; at the same instant the glittering steel enters the warrior’s heart. A convulsive throb, a contraction of the limbs, and. the. red-man’s spirit is free of its | earthly tenement. Kit now drops to the earth, braces up the body in the same position by means of a roll of blankets, and then draws back into the shelter once more, and folding Mary in his arms, whis- pers + gg ‘“ Mary, ling, be'calm, or all is lost. I’ve killed the sentinel, but a hundred dangers beset our path between here-and safety.’ Can you use your limbs, my poor dear?” ‘‘Oh! Kit, my dearest, may God ever bless you! I implore you, pray you to return the way you came, for Ihave not strength to ac- company you. You can escape alone, but you cannot if embarrassed by me, in my exhausted state. Fly if you love me—fly while you can with safety, and perhaps with help you can yet take me from the clutches of these red mon- sters. “Mary,” whispered Kit, firmly, “if I leave you it will be because my time has come. We will live or die together, love.” With that, Kit gathered her weak tremblin form in his arms and cautiously crawled ow from the shelter. He gave a hurried glance about the.camp, and made his way slow] through the bushes and trees by the same trail he come. Proceeding only a short distance, he laid Mary upon the grass, and whispering to her to be as quiet as death, and that he would return soon, he left her. Not twenty yards from where me lay an Indian saad leaning against a tree. it’s trail lay past. this brave; therefore this sentry must die, too. The Indian’s back was against the oak, and he was facing the prairie,so Kit ap- proached him from behind, and with:a sudden spring placed his: hand over his mouth, and rove bowie to his heart. But, horrors! his hand. sli from the In- dian’s mouth, when the terrible death-yell rung out sharp and. clear through the dark night air. CHAPTER XI. MORE SCALPS FOR THE TONKAWAY. E ‘* Jorn!” exclaimed Tom, in a smothered voice which showed surprise and shame at having overslept himself, springing from his blanket; ae ’m sternal ecg ri fer wc my ht. ake up, e’re a cupple o’ mighty slim kind of scouts, I’m thinkin,’ ‘‘Methinks I hear an voice break in upon me dreams,” drawled kless Joe, as he sat up on his et. ‘Night, is it? Yes, I observe. Well, night is the time for sleep. Why didst thou disturb me slumbers, me lord duke? I’m weary; I would rest. By the way, ar) where is his Royal Highness, Kit Carson, r. I, don’t see the galoot,” answered Tom; ‘‘here is his rifle, an’ his are with ours, Joe, them’s the most. sensible mustangs ever wore tails; they’re all flat on ther grass takin’ a rest, provin’ that no reds are on the sneak this-” ony “Tom!” broke. in Joe, in great agitation, springing to his feet, “Kit is in the Indian camp. remember now, don’t you, that ‘he swore he would go alone? He’s made a miss of it, I feel it in my bones, and we're tied to this spot in spite of ourselves. It would be pure madness for us to venture after him until Raven and the boys get here.” “Yer right, Joe,” cried Tom, im drawing up his belt an extra hole; “ ently it’s kept | danged blue about ther gills, an’ mighty afeard his word, sure as yer born. I tole yer he war | wuss ner a mule, Tell yer What, Joe, mw Tr UPC TRIN re nr ETttcr ne cere ope we're in a tight fix. If. Kit is gobbled up, an’ the. Tonk don’t cum ter time, | wouldn’t give a prickly pear for our ~ ee About what time does yer reckon iti is?” ‘It’s after the witching hour of midnight. We had a long snooze, As Joe ceased speaking he c the little opening, and examined his rifle, Wiping off the dew with a piece of buckskin. Tom was just filling*his pipe, preparatory to having a smoke, when both ngers were startled by the borses springing suddenly to their feet and pointing their ears down the river in the attitude of listening. In an instant Tom and Joe were, with rifles cocked, facing in the same direction, with every faculty on the alert. “* What’s in the wind now, pard?”’ whispered the astonished Tom. ' ‘‘I don’t like this danged way o’ doin’ things. I'd ’tarnel sight ruther face ther music.” “Hark! Tom,” said Joe, impatiently; ‘' it comes from down the river; it’s the Tonk and the boys; I hope to Heaven it is.” The dull rumble of horses in a swift gallop up the river-bottom sward reached their ears; the sound came nearer and nearer, until they knew it was from the opposite side of the stream. The crashing ‘and cracking of brush, and then pacar enon dw silence, told the Rangers, ‘as well as if they saw the strangers, when they entered the clear space near the ford. “Cum on, Joe, lively!” cried Tom. “ We'll scout through this brush an’ get asight at them, an’ be ready for biz. Cum on!” The two Rangers in another moment were parting the bushes on the bank and gazing earn- estly to the south side of the stream. Big Foot Wallace, Jack, Clown, Larry, and Raven, just then rode up the bank, but it was so dark that only those who were accustomed to night-watching, like Tom and Joe, could have made out their character. One instant the new-comers sat their horses on the bank, peering over into the dusky shades of the opposite shore, and then if a bomb-shell had exploded in their midst they could not have scattered in a more lively manner. The Tonkaway and Big Foot had discovered the Indians who were bound to the tree! Nota living form of horse or man could now be seen by Joe and Tom. The latter tore hissombrero from his head, and jammed the felt rim into his mouth, struck Joe a violent blow in the back, then rolled over’ and over in the grass, convulsed with laughter which he could barely restrain within bounds. A low quiet chuckle from Joe, who held both hands over his mouth, showed that in spite of the desperate situation they were in he also en- joyed the joke they had played on their bop Once more they pa the bushes, and it was a difficult matter to restrain a yell, as they saw the Tonkaway and Big Foot crawling along the bank on hands and knees, their rifles ready to death into the already dead Indians, bound bo the tree. To do them justice they were more puzzled than alarmed; they did not understand why the reds should stand boldly against the tree uarding the ford, and not make a demonstra- on when they had been in plain view, but they were not long to remain in doubt. The rifle of Big Foot was leveled, and the re- volver of the Tonkaway pointed at the dead In- dians, as were the rifles of the rest of the y; below the other side of the trail, when Raven gave a warning-cry. ‘Springing down the bank at the same time into the water and swimming across the river, in a moment he stood by the tree, and was seen by his party, to be quietly ae the silent guards, while in a low, un- earthly voice he sung the war-song of his tribe. “‘ Boys!” exclaimed Big Foot, as Jack, Clown and the wg | Larry gathered around him and gazed over the river at the Tonkaway se- curing the trophies he prized so a aa oe T hav’ had two set-backs ter-night; down t below, seeing Will bakin’ Injuns, on ther half-shell, as ther Powder-horn fellers say, an’ here I’ve been wuss fooled ’n I ever ware afore. Things are gittin’ sorter mixed an’ I can’t even count on myself. Sumthin’ ’s goin’ ter happen that'll fotch us up a-standin’ right pert. My scul don’t feel any looser’n usual; but I'll” own feel queer at ther ruts o’ my hair. Cum on! Mount yer critters an’ let’s prospect over t’other side.’ —_—— CHAPTER XII. ON THE BRINK OF THE GRAVE. Bout to return to Kit, whom we left in the Comanche camp. The death-yell of the Indian made littering eyes fla: twenty of upon the fleeing form of Kit, and in a moment after he had snatched Mary from the ground, a score of Indians were in hot pursuit. Arrows went hiss- ing past his head, and tomahawks. whirled through the air. Kit brought Mary around in his front to shield her, and found she had fainted; he press- ed his lips to hers for the last time, for he knew there was no escape, incumbered as he was with ‘ i
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= leaving her. 3 ‘‘My race is about run,” muttered Kit, “ but I'll send a few ahead of me,” and dropping Mary at his feet, he jerked two Colt’s revolvers from his belt, and sent, in quick succession, the twelve shots into the ——— forms who were bounding fast on his trail; then throwing the pistols into a thicket, so they would not be made use of by the reds, he once more took Mary in his arms, and ran through the timber. — The red devils still yelled behind him; they came nearer and nearer, for he could not go fast with his burden; he knew he could go but a short distance more; death was better for poor Mary than what was in store for her. A mut- tered prayer was upon his lips as an arrow pierced him, and a tomahawk striking him in the head, he fell senseless to the ground. Wild yells of triumph burst from the throats of a dozen braves as they surrounded the inani- mate forms of Mary and Kit. Answering yells came from other points, where the Indians had run to cut off the fugitives, and in a short time the little opening was filled with warriors. ; A torch was brought from the camp, and Kit was rolled over on his back, showing to the as- tonished Indians the well-known and much- feared features of the Eagle Eye, Carson, who had slain so many of their tribe! Those who had taken hold of him drew back av instant with dread, so much was he feared and so well known were his great bravery and cunning. One prolonged, joyful yell came from the as- sentoled braves as Kit was recognized. He was at once securely bound, although ap- apne dead, and taken into camp, followed y @ party bearing the still senseless form of 'y, who was returned to the shelter and se- cured in the same manner as before. : Kit was bound to the young pecan tree, which stood solitary and alone in the center of the en- campment. , The moon once more appeared from behind the black cloud and lit up the scene, and showed an Indian pouring a gourd of water on the head of Kit, which partly washed tbe blood and paint from his face, and brought him back to his senses. Black Wolf and Bear Claw, the Comanche chiefs, stood before him with folded arms, and pi a sneering, triumphant expression on their aces. Kit braced himself up, and threw back his long black hair from his forehead and face by a nervous toss of his head. _ His wild eyes glared, and he glanced taunt- ingly around the mass of warriors, and then his gaze rested upon the two chiefs before him, who could not help but quail.as Kit’s piercing eyes gazed fearlessly into theirs. : Black Wolf being the ranking chief, spoke first, in a scoffing manner: “Eagle Eye Carson, big brave—but he go blind—why come in night—steal squaw from Black Wolf camp? Eagle Eye kill many Co- manche braves—but he has take last scalp—let him sing death-song—the Medina wolves gnaw his bones ‘fore moon grows small—his white — bring wood, bring water for Comanche chief—on big plain.” “You lie! you cowardly son of a coyote,” hissed Kit, ‘you red murderers of squaws and Ppooses, you dare not meet me in fair field. m these bonds and I'll fight the whole of you; let me die as I have lived, with death-yells of Comanches sounding in my ears like sweet music. D wolves of the prairie! I scorn and spit upon you! Harm but a hair of the r girl’s head you have made miserable for ife and the hand of the Great Spirit shall fall in wrath upon your people. Comanche braves shall craw] like cowardly coyotes, and feed upon the bones that Texans have left behind. The ground shall shake and open; your villages shall be swallowed up, and you shall burrow to hide yourselves with shame!” Kit’s words were flung out like molten lava among the In- dians, and his prophecy made them for a mo- ment cringe with fear, which _— way to mad- ness, as the insults were heaped upon them in so taunting and daring a manner by a man who was bound hand and foot. on prairie—Eagle Eye is alone—where are his fast-shooting 4 His hands are tied—he soon take big trail—let him sing his death-song—he great brave—have big die like warrior.” “Fighter of squaws!” yelled Kit, with mad- ness in his voice, ‘‘ give me the chance to die like a warrior; cut me loose and give me arms and I’ll go on the long dark trail like a man, but I'll not go alone; the death-howl of a score of your devils shall go with me. Loose me! I say, and I'll show you how a Texan can die.” ‘Eagle Eye kill no more red-men,” retorted Black Wolf; ‘a warrior does not grow ina day that he let loose great scout on his people, Eagle Eye has made last trail—no more see his tracks on big plain—look at moon—never see moon more—sun shine on Eagle Eye ashes—he die where he stand.” Then the chief turned suddenly to his war- riors and asked, angrily: anchero. a no see Eagle Eye swim Medina.” “White Horse and braves,” shouted Kit, ex- ultantly, “‘will never again join in the war- dance. Their death-yells were sweet music to the hungry coyotes of the Medina. The knife of Eagle Eye has drank their hearts’ blood; | | boys we can make a clean sweep through them their death-song must be howled by the squaws in your far-away villages. Hagle Eye gave them no time; his knife does not stop half-way when a Comanche dog is before him.” A score of hands went quickly for knife and hatchet, arrows were fitted to bows with light- ning-like movements, and angry scowls and bloodthirsty yells; but a commanding voice caused them all to return their weapons. ‘* Warriors,” exclaimed the chief; “ braves of the big plain, shall Eagle Eye die quick death? No! we must see him cry like squaw when hot fire first touch him. Put up arms! No shoot Eagle Eye. White Horse dead—Eagle Eye red with blood—Eagle Eye shall die—torture fire make great squaw—I have spoken,” and waving his hand he dispersed the warriors to their re- spective camp-fires. The guards were doubled, and once more the Indian camp was wrapped in silence, as the braves rolled themselves in their blankets to sleep the remaning hours of darkness away. CHAPTER XIII. THE MAD AVENGER. As Big Foot and his party were riding through the ford, the Tonkaway was just running his scalping-knife around the head of the last In- dian, in the death ring about the tree, when he was grasped from behind by the huge black bear which had previously played a part in the death of the Comanches. Raven knew in an instant the fix he was in, as the huge claws clasped about him, and by a sudden twist brought himself about to face the bear, before the “age ee claws met too closely around his breast. With another desperate struggle, in which his sinews were stretched to their utmost tension, he succeeded, being on the edge of the bank, in throwing himself and the bear over the brink, and the two rolled over and over down into the water, the knife of Raven being driven between the animal’s ribs to the hilt, as often as the In- dian could get room to swing his arm. Both rolled down and disappeared beneath the dark waters, in plain view of Big Foot and his partys as they were in the river crossing. ‘“‘ Waal!” shouted Big Foot, in an excited and astonished manner, “if this don’t beat ther devil! What in ther name of Crockett, are cum- in’ next? It’s adanged queer time fer ther Tonk to be b’ar-huntin’, but I reckon by ther way things looks ther b’ar war a-huntin’ ther Tonk, That animile must be an old ’quaintance an’ he’s a mighty ’fectionate cuss; he’s soft on ther red, an’ heavy on ther hug. Look a-thar, boys; by the way that water b’iles reckon they’re havin’ a reg’lar fandango, but ther drink kinder shets off ther music. I ain’t at all skeered’bout ther Tonk; he’s full o’ grit an’ game till ther last. Reckon that bear ’1l never — ’round anuther bee-tree. Hurra! Thar’s our Tonk! jist a claw- in’ up ther bank down below thar, and yer can jist bet that b’ar are fish-bait by that. on, oys; our horses *ll get chilled; it ar’ time we war t’other side.” ‘Sure, Misther Big Fut,” exclaimed Larry, in a terrified manner, ‘‘ I’m thinkin’ it’s mesilf that'll go back beyont to the ranch. I’m not falin’ at all well; am not used to sayin’ such heathenish things, as I have seen this night. tod kape me frum ever passin’ anuther sich! Begorrar, it’s a fool I was, to ever l’ave ould Ireland. How far does the likes of ye call it to the salt say, from this beast of a place? Sure, I’m famished fur fude, an’ dyin’ fur slape; but Ic’u’d nather ate nor rist wid sich murtherin’ sights about me.” “Waal, La he said Big Foot, a broad grin overspreading his face, ‘“‘make a blue streak back, if yer want, but yer can jist stop at ther lace Wild Will war cookin’ Injuns an’ tell that eauty to cum up this-a-ways, an’ give usa hand an’ fight in yer place.” ‘‘Howly muther o’ Moses! I clean furgit him entirely, bedad! but I’'d face a dozen divils wid you b’ys afore I’d go alone within a mile ev im. I’m thinkin’ I can’t stur wid any safety to mesilf, anyways, an’ I’m forced to stay wid yez, anyhow,” and Larry, jerking his head about in every direction, as if expecting some new horror, spurred his horse, and scrambled | up the opposite bank with the others, and the halted their J ches. “ Ther boys hav’ gone in heavy right on ther jump fur reg’lar biz,” declared Big Foot, ‘but, whar in thunderation are they a-hidin’ the’rsel’s—” At this moment Tom and Joe, with a low whistle of caution, sprung into the midst of the arty; and the Tonkaway look'»yg wet and fa- ti ed joined them, comingfres! rom hisstrug- with the bear. No allusion was made by th — in regard to the laughable mistake their had made, when they had discovered t dead Indians, animals, all dripping with water, | by the tree which supported the dead Coman- | as they knew Big Foot would feel sore on the subject. ““Mighty glad ter see yer, boys,” welcomed Tom; ‘we need yer right now if ever. Kit hav’ gone on a lone scout inter ther camp o’ ther reds in spite of all we c’u’d do, an’ if he’s gob- bled it ain’t no faut o’ ours. I reckon with you without gittin’ corraled, an’ if they’ve got Kit, | as things look, why, they can’t keep him frum | this crowd, ner Mollie either. | Hope yer hain’t hurt my b’ar. What’s ther dif- | | | | “thar Howdy, Tonk? ficult atween yer?” ‘No like Raven take scalp,” answered the Tonkaway. ‘‘Hug Raven tight, claws sharp. Raven knife more sharp—more long—find heart -—-gone down river—catfish eat him.” ‘How did yer clean out them reds?” inter- rupted Jack, addressing Tom. ‘““We lay off in ther brush,” explained Tom, ‘‘an’ knifed the whole caboodle. We hain’t used no shootin’-irons since we’ve laid round here, ner slung no loose jaw. It’s only three mhiles up to ther camp o’ ther reds an’ they’re as bold an’ brash as if they had a thousand braves.” “Waal, yer hav’ harnessed a few on ’em up,” returned Jack, ‘‘an’ they don’t ’pear tew kick ag’in’ ther traces much, Six makes a = team; but them looks rather balky an’ too bad- ly spavined to draw much of a load,” and Jack gave a quiet laugh while he punched Clown in the ribs. Just at this moment the fusilade from the re- volvers of Kit, as he laid Mary on the grass and fired into the savages who were pursuing them, struck the ears of the Rangers, ever acute, borne down, as the reports were, by the night breeze. “By the blood of Crockett!” yelled Big Foot, goes Kit’s shooters! He’s alone, boys, an’ wants help. Mount for yer lives! A Texan! a Ranger! a White Man is fighting for his life! Sling yersel’s ready fur blood an’ vengeance. | an’ remember, no mercy! no quarter! an’ spli thar camp if thar’s a thousand of ’em!” There was a dashing and plunging of mus- tangs as Tom and Joe pre d to join the im- patient party outside the bushes. Ma by my nag, Larry,” cried Big Foot; “keep ov me, an’ shoot ther red cusses when yer can draw a bead. Yer'll soon git ter like it, an’ itll cum easy. Are yer ready, boys? One minute may lose a white man’s life.’ But his last words were drowned by a long, piercing, unearthly yell, that rung from the op- posite river bank. The moon broke free from the black cloud that had hung like a pall between it and the earth, showing to the astonished Rangers, who sat their horses, as if suddenly petrified, the form of Wild Will, the Red Trailer, upon his horse, who came bounding with maddenin leaps and eyes protruding with terror. he dreadful yell or scream of Wili Halliday cut the night air, and sent a thrill of horror to the very marrow of those who awaited his coming, without sense enough left in them to Up the ween Dist the terrified, pant- the steep rung the i pan’ ing eked covered with foam, bearing his mad master. On they came—Will’s eyes staring straight before him, showing no Pe that he ~b his old friends and dashed past them at headlong speed through the oaks, and out. into the prafris be: yond, followed by the Rangers who halted as they cleared the bottom timber. Larry, pale as death, his teeth chattering, kept in the midst of the Ler ieeesth yar seg saddle horn with the desperation of despair, Wild Will turns his horse directly up the river and points for the Indian a How does he know its location? No one has told him, and if such was the case he is too in- sane to understand. No more horrible sight could be presented to the eye than Wild Will now going on a red trail for revenge! The Indian head-dress, his hideously painted face, his long black hair flying in the wind, the fiendish, venuctet look in his eyes—his how: shrieks and laughter, as he dashes along, proclaim that the Red Trailer comes for blood! CHAPTER XIV. THE RED TRAILER’S CHARGE. In the Indian camp all are wrapped her exer the sentinels and the two captives— Kit and Mary Halliday. The latter is suffering ee wien f ain; due to the manner in which she is boun e had heard Kit’s voice taunting the Indians, and the threats of Black Wolf. Her mind was filled, indeed, overburdened, with misery, be- fore Kit made his visit to rescue her, in regard to the horrible treatment of her family, and now she has more to suffer than most human minds could stand; and prays that somethin may happen in her favor to relieve the great strain that is on her nerves, weakened as they are by want of food and sleep. Kit’s proud, brave spirit seems to have oozed out with the streams of blood that have, since his capture, poured from his wounds. head, so erect when hissing hot words at his captors, is now drooped upon his breast, the in slum- or his
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10 flashing eyes are shaded by the quivering lids, while the long lashes rest upon his cheeks, through which hot, burning tears are washing trails through the blood and paint. ! But the tears come not from sufferings of his own; they are brought out by the heartrending moans of her he loves’ better than his life, into whose tender flesh the tight-drawn cords are cutting as deep as her groans of anguish cut into his heart. But a sudden commotion stirs the Comanche camp; sharp, quick signals of alarm are trans- mitted from sentinel to sentinel. A long, shrill, jercing shriek comes cutting through the air oa down the river. Warriors es from their blankets, sp their weapons, listen, then look with wonder at each other, for they know by the sound that but a single horse is approach- as, the — rush and wood are thrown upon the fires, al- though the moon now makes the night almost as light as day. On comes the sound of the clattering hoofs; the air is filled with yells so strange, so unlike ie: they have ever heard before, that the Indians huddle together in superstitious terror. On, on plunged, they knew not what. The ek and branches crack and bend, and out into the clearing opie | from the thick border of trees, comes Wild Will—an apparition so unéarthly, so horrible, so unlooked for, that yee hands are unable to fit arrow to bow- g, and guns shake like the aspen. So Hlendish a and wild isthe vision which breaks unexpectedly upon them that braves who have never known fear gaze with amazement and dread at the madman and maddened horse. One wild yell—in which were blended satis- faction and bitter hatred—sprung from the lips of Will, as he bounded in among the massed In- dians, a revolver in each hand, and, with light- i pag wee sent ball after ball on their er- vane of death. Bear Claw sprung from the crowd, and in the confusion gee the shelter and dragged Mary out into the woods, thinking the father had come for his child, and by some means would take his captive from him. Black Wolf, unable to form his braves, sprung toward Kit, his captive, whose eyes were taking note of everything in the strange scene before The glittering steel flashed in his face, a mut- tered prayer was on his lips, as a ball from one of Wil ill’s revolvers went crashing through the skull of the Comanche chief, who fell dead at the feet of his white enemy. At the death of their chief, the Indians be- came desperate. Realizing that he who was dealing death upon all sides was mortal, and not, as they supposed, an ovil spirit from the other world, arrows and bullets now flew as thick as hail about and near Wild Will and Kit as the former leaned down from his horse an ran bowie-knife across the thongs which bound the latter to the torture-tree. A dozen arrows hung from the thick Mexican blanket which was secured to Will’s shoulders, and flying behind, and this blanket saved the maniac from death many times. Before Kit could comprehend that Wild Will was cutting him free, a ball from an Indian rifle struck him, glancing and plowing a furrow along the side of his already bruised head, and rendering him senseless. With a yell of triumph Will grasped Kit by the belt, and drew his senseless form up before _ Howls of rage filled the air, and the Indians fought each other, endeavoring to make their way toward and prevent the escape of the two whites; but, having no leader, and being so de- moralized, they were but a mixed, wranglin; mob, falling over their own dead and wounded. Wild Will turned in his saddle, and with an insane peal of laughter, drove his bowie into his horse. The animal, with a scream of terror and pain, bounded with headlong speed clear of the Co- manche camp, leaving near a score of dead and dying Indians to mark the passage of the Red er. The Indians were so confused at the death of 30 many of their comrades and _ their chief—all slain by one man—that they did not know they were on the eve of a more desperate encounter. There was but a single exception, and that was the chief, Bear Claw. Returning from the woods where he had se- creted Mary, he saw Wild Will gallop toward the west with great speed, Kit hanging before him across the saddle, like a dead man. His warriors were, he knew, in a terrible state. He paused an instant on the border of the wood, and glanced around. His sharp ears—he being some distance from the confusion of the camp—detected the sound of galloping horses coming from down the river, from the same age whence Wild Will had come dashing into 6 cam A few bounds Drougit him in a position where he distinctly saw, not a half-mile away, seven horsemen that he knew were white men. He comprehended in a moment that it would » useless to try and get the Indians into an rder to meet the charge of the Rangers. He Wild Will, the Mad Ranchero had seen enough of their fast-shooting guns to know that certain death would come to his peo- ple. With great speed Bear Claw immediatel ran to where his favorite mustang was picketed, threw on saddle and adjusted a loup-rein in an instant; then, springing on his horse’s back, he ave a warning yell to his comrades, which was tecepat in the confusion and yells, and then rode back to where he had concealed og 6 Once more he placed his captive before him in the saddle, and taking a northerly direction be urged his mustang to its greatest speed. eakened by een and horror, her sense- less form, in the arms of a bloodthirsty savage, was borne one way as fast as a fleet prairie steed could go, while her hero lover, wounded and senseless, and nearer death than life, in the arms of a madman on a wild, terrified horse, flew over the prairie in another direction, un- conscious of the yells and insane laughter which urged on the steed in its wild course. CHAPTER XV. THE TWO TRAILS. ‘“‘RipE up, Larry, an’ show yer grit!” ex- claimed Big Foot. ‘‘ Boys, all ready with yer shooters! Remember that grave back ther’. Here we are! At’em! give ’em hot lead.” With the Texas yell ringing like a knell to those before them, the Rangers drove their spurs deep into the flanks of their mustangs, and bounded through the trees and bushes into the midst of the Comanches, sending the lead from their revolvers hurtling through the doubly confused and scared mass of Indians. The charge of Wild Will was a bewildering surprise, it was so strange and unexpected, but that of the seven scouts was a greater one. The Indians were taken at a disadvantage, and it was a perfect massacre. In ten minutes every Indian insight was dead, or dying, for the red-skins, having no leader, many of them fled tothe woods, wild with fright at the strange events of the night, and some who seemed to have lost all reasoning power, ran to the open prairie toward their horses, hotly pur- sued by the Rangers who shot them down. All the mustangs of the war-party, besides many they had stolen from the ranches, were recap’ by the scouts and driven in near the cam Where is Mary? Where is Kit?’ was the cry of the Rangers, one to the other. he shelter where the former was secured, and the tree where their pard had been bound, were found; but it was not light enough for them to find any clew which would show how the captives had been disposed of; so the Ran- gers were forced to await daylight before they could do anything. The Rangers ascertained by an inspection of the camp that Wild Will made a perfectly wonderful fight, by the number of dead lying almost in a mingled mass near the torture tree, to which Kit had been tied, and one and all gave the mad avenger the well-deserved name of the Red Trailer. That Black Wolf had tried to kill Kit could be easily seen by the position of the chiet’s body. Not one of the Rangers escaped without a wound, some of a serious nature, or would have been so considered by any but men like them- selves. The mustangs of Larry and the Tonkaway were both killed in the latter part of the fight. Larry had kept near the giant scout, and r his blood got heated by the exciting scenes, his Trish fighting qualities showed themselves, and he went in with a will, using his gun as he would a shillelah, cracking skulls right and left; in fact Larry performed his part in a manner that called forth the praise of all, especially from Big Foot, who now paid particular attention to his “ picked-up ” pard. When the Ran ers found it impossible to as- certain by any trail or sign the whereabouts of either Kit or Mary, they seated themselves about one of the Indian camp-fires to rest from their long and hard ride, taken in the early of the night, well knowing that the sun would shortly show them sure signs of what had be- come of their friends. The Tonkaway soon glided into the circle, and stood in the firelight a moment, casting a wandering glance around the camp, and then seated himself near Big Foot, exclaiming, in a satisfied manner: “Good—have war council—what think— where Mary gone—where Kit gone—Comanche no kill—let Big Foot chief speak—Raven’s ears open. Keep yer eyes open, Tonk,” said Big Foot, glancing around the camp, ‘‘fur sum o’ them skulking smoky-skins might send ther cards in ther shape of a blue whistler in at us. We ain’t ,targits, jist about now, ’round this here e.” ‘““Comanche gone,” answered Raven; “ pick up feet fast—’way up river—no stop—much scare—heap ’fraid face shootin’-guns.” ** Waal, ma’be so; yer oughter know thar natur’: as tew whar the *re gone, I’m _ bu’stin’ my head a-thinkin’ on. I can’t put things right ter suit me. I’m ther wust mixed-up man in ' this crowd: never seen things turn out so danged --—--—— - unnat’ral-like afore. What yer all thinkin *bout, boys?” “Tl tell yer what’s gliding through my brain- box,” answered Tom Clark. ‘‘I hain’t forgut them revolver-shots, what we heard when Kit war a-playin’ a lone hand, an’ I thought possi- bly, fact are, I put it up, as a dead sure thing that Kit got bad hurt, afore the reds tied him up, an’ like enuf he had Mollie, jist a h’istin’ hisself fur our camp, when he dun ther shootin’. Put this an’ that together, an’ I says he war in too bad a fix ter git away hisself, an’ so some- body’s gone an’ tuck him.” ‘‘Thar’s a heap o’ sense in yer talk, Tom,” said Big Foot; ‘‘ but how about Mollie, she—” ‘“‘T have made up that item clear in my mind,” interrupted Joe. ‘‘It is plain to see that the chief, Bear Claw, down below at the fight at Will’s ranch, left his braves when we charged them, and run with Mary; now our not findin his dead body, I think he has taken Mary an left on the sly, leaving the Indians without a chief—in fact, has played the same hand he did at the ranch. Struck with Mollie’s beauty, he’s a-going to make her his squaw.” ‘Joe’s words good,” said Raven; “Joe’s tongue straight—Tom good council talk—both great scout—” “Boys!” cried out Jack Hodge, “one thing are sure—thar ain’t no stage route here, an’ con- sequently they has gone off on two or four legs. The fust owin’ ter weakness, ain’t tew be thunk of, an’ if they are bein’ took away hossback, I reckon we has sum tall old ridin’ afore us.” “‘ Bet yer my interest in the Mexican Repub- lic,” broke in Clown, ‘‘that the reds, what stampeded from here, fetch up with another pack. They w’uldn’t be so danged bold if thar warn’t a big crowd within a day’s ride or so, but, I’d like mighty well ter know whar it war Kit done his shootin’; *tain’t reasonable ter think any of ther de‘d reds here in ther camp war knocked under by him. If he war takin’ Mol- lie, he would ’a’ made a streak fur ther ford, not this-a-way.” No sooner had Clown spoken, than Raven sprung to his feet, muttering: ‘‘Raven heap big fool!” and glided out of the circle of fire-light past the blanket shelter, and disappeared in the darkness beneath the branches of the oaks. ‘*Keep on, boys; sling yer council talk, as ther Tonk says,” exclaimed Big Foot. “Things are gittin’ a little more clear, an’ I reckon os light’ll show everything strai’t. It’s gittin’ light a lettle now whar the sun pops ae That Tonk are the whitest red I ever saw; I kind ter soften on him. Larry, I didn’t allow, war wuth shucks, but he went in, as brash as a black wolf amung buffler-calves. How duz yer feel, ra ‘*Fale, is it?’ answered Larry; ‘‘I’m a-falin’ as wake an’ faint as anew-born babe. Phat do the red divils do fur ’atin’? Sure I see nothin’ ar’und that w’u’d keep a mouse from starvin’ without he turns horse an ates grass. Phat wur sich divils made fur, to bother us with howls an’ yells an’ the loike of that, let alone runnin’ others mad wid eat and murtherin’ females widout marcy? urdher an’ turf, but it’s me- silf that’s thankin’ the Vargin we has none sich in ould Ireland; but there might a-bin, long ago, and wore afther bain banished wid the snakes be Saint Patrick, Heaven bless him! The curse on the red h’athen, for they has killed me horse, as dacent an animile as ever was after whiskin’ a tail; an’ a kind fri’nd he was to me. I forgive bim fur thryin’ to sind me down the stape bank beyon’. I’m thinkin’ he had a mind to commit shuoside, that time. God knows, Faith! he won’t téll. Bedad a good horse is the best fri’nd a man c’u’d hav’ in this cuss ev a c’unthry, an’ me heart’s falin’ sad, indade it is, for the loss ev him.” : “Don’t fret,” Larry,” said Big Foot; ‘‘ you’ve got friends here what'll £0, ther lifeon yer. I ike yer better fur yer thinkin’ of yer critter; but, ~ shall take yer pick outen the hull ca- e what we has got in the morning.” ** And, Larry,” added Joe, ‘‘ Tl go and see if I can’t corral some grub. T’m jrobeariny’* as you —all of us are; and it will be strange if I don’t forage up some kind of eatables in as large a camp as this, if it ain’t more’n some dried- beef,” and Joe started on a tour of inspection, avoiding the heaps of dead Indians, The Tonkaway now put in an appearance, and stood within the circle of firelight with folded arms, awaiting to be questioned. “Waal, Tonk?” ed Big Foot, earnestly. “Has yer struck anything fresh?” ‘* Yes,” replied Raven, ‘‘ me find where Eagle Eye shoot—kill Comanche—big fight—dark night—Eagle Eye great warrior—red-men run fast—throw hatchet—shoot arrow—hit Eagle lla much blood lose—know nothin’ when ie up—drag him on ground. “Told ~~ so, boys!” cried Tom, quickly; ‘I knowed he w’u’d a-fit till he dra , an’ w’u’d keep ’em a-t’arin’ grass. as long as he could grip a shooter or bowie. I’m on ther anxious seat fur daylite, fur it’s jist the dangest thing whar he c’u’d a-scooted. His corpus ain’t here, that ar’ a comfort.” Reckless Joe n0w came up with a calf-skin sack of dried buffalo-meat, and again returned | ae |
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to the north portion of the camp and brought on his back a bag of parched corn. “There, boys,” he exclaimed, with a satisfied smile, ‘‘there’s grub. Pitch in, Larry, and for- get your noble steed, or, if you can’t do that, re- member he died in a good cause. Gentlemen, I bid you to the feast; you are welcome, and it sha’n’t cost you even a Texas land-warrant. Don’t let the extensiveness of the bill of fare worry you; select your dishes and sail in.” Long before Joe had finished speaking all hands were eating like famished wolves, and Joe made a grab at each bag, filling his hat, re- marking at the same time, in a hasty manner: “It’s very touching to see how delicate you are; you don’t take your regular bitters, or ask grace before eating. Your eyes and hands are n league with your stomachs, that’s plain.” ‘* Talk less an’ eat more!” exclaimed Big Foot, tearing a large hunk of buffalo-meat from a long string of the same in his hand; ‘set your grinders to work, an’ h’ist in enuf feed ter keep yer stiff fur a sixty-mile run.” The gray streaks of approaching dawn ap- red in the eastern horizon as the Rangers nished eating an amount of food that would have been sufficient for twenty men of in-door habits.. Clown, who had been guarding the stock, was relieved, and satisfied himself in the way of eat- ing, afterward producing a huge coffee-pot which he had brought attached to his saddle and a small bag of Rio. When the fragrant aroma of the latter became diffused around, the Rangers all rushed back to the fire, producing the cups, and soon were joining Clown in drink- ing that much-prized beverage of all scouts, ‘Hist yerself this-a-ways, Tonk, an’ set ter work; we hain’t trod around enuf ter sp’ile ther sign. Thar’s two p’ints,” said Big Foot, ‘ yer wants ter sling yerself on—ther blanket-tent whar Mollie war, an’ the n-tree whar Kit war tied. Find out what’s becum’ on ’em, an’ who’s tuck ’em, an’ make short work on it. Now, boys, sot right whar yer are, an’ don’t sling nary word to bother the Tonk.” The Tonkaway in a moment was at the tree to which Kit had been tied, and down on his hands and knees, searching every footprint, and noting the position of everything about the tree, and soon found the knife-severed cords which had bound Kit. With a grunt of satisfaction, but without a word, he proceeded to where Mary had suffered so severely. Nothing es- caped the keen eye, and he was soon on the trail taken by Kit when he carried Mary ; but, seeing that she had been returned, he very soon found that Bear Claw had secreted the maiden, and then afterward came with his horse and k her away. . The Tonkaway had noted the direction taken by both ies, who had the captives, and he now, with long, quick strides, returned to the anxiously-expectant Rangers, who showed the anxie ay felt at his success, Halting opposite Big Foot, Raven spoke: “Raven find trails—plain as Medina river— Red Trailer shoot heap—shoot Black Wolf— Black Wolf try kill Eagle Eye—Will, he ride quick—cut Eagle Eye loose—Eagle shot bad— no know nothing—Wild Will take him on mus- tang—go ii prairie that way—where sun go sleep—Bear Claw leave warrior—no fight—want ary for squaw—drag in woods—get horse— take Mary—ride fast—that way—where cold winds come—” ** Waal, ef I mayn’t be sculped by a six-year- old squaw,” exclaimed Big Foot, ‘‘ef this don’t knock everything else a-kitin’! What's ter do? , we got tew split, and two to one we ain’t gobbled up an’ lose our ha’r, It’s mighty bad luck tew devide a party, scanty as we are, but it has got ter be did, an’ no lingerin’. Hob- ble a few o’ ther leaders o’ them mustangs what we tuck; I reckon they won’t stray fur; pick out a nag fer Clown an’ Larry, an’ some critters tew take on ther lead. Will an’ Kit are in the Ban- dera Hills by this, and the c Red Trailer may strike fer Camp Verdi. t cowardly Bear Claw will go mighty fast fer ther Gorda- lupe, afore he draws a rein. We'll all meet at ther upper ford. Tonk, Clown, Jack an’ my- self “ll go fer Mollie; Tom, Joe an’ Larry, yer must hunt that crazy man. Don’t giv’ up ther trail, fer Kit are a boy what Texas can’t spare.” © horses captured from the Indians were driven down the river, some of them hobbled to keep the drove from straying far, and in fifteen minutes from the time Big Foot had given his instructions—for he was the acknowledged lead- er in all small parties he chanced to be with— the Bap rs waved adios to each other and were galloping, one party to the north on the trail of Bear Claw and Mary, the other to the ere ee ee e so recent] animals of law and Wild Will’careys ioe double loads, they were easily followed at a fast lope by the Rangers. CHAPTER XVI. SAVED. On went the oping, tortured steed of the death-dealing Will, the latter ever and anon ge | vent to his maddened thoughts by pierc- ec orrible yells, which, with ‘the frequent pricking of the cruel bowie-knife, caused the mustang to almost fly toward the Bandera Hills. The body of Kit hung limp and seemingly life- less over the thighs of Will, downupon each side of the animal. Kit’s long hair swept through the prairie ass and flowers, which at times were more ighly colored than nature tints, by the drops of blood dripping from his wounds. Comanche arrows were hanging from the clothing of both, showing that the arms which sent them on their mission of death were weak, made so by the unearth] so suddenly burst upon them, and awakened all the superstition which exists to a greater or less extent among the wild and ignorant throughout the world. No more fearful sight could have been seen than the picture presented; but, what would make tender hearts to ache, was to see the wounded scout borne in such a way and seem- ingly a corpse. Mile after mile they dashed on, fit emblems of madness and death. Suddenly they entered a valley, bounded north and south by wooded hills, and along the southern range ran the Medina river. The mustang Snr now in a weak and wavering. way, and headed toward the river, without his wild rider making any movement to control or check him. - The horse was so weakened by loss of blood and over-exertion that it was plain he would never bear his mad rider again. Every yell of Will’s brought a corresponding moan from the animal, for a stab of the knife was sure to follow. They neared the river, neither horse, madman nor death-stricken scout knowing what was ahead, On rushed the horse through the timber, stag- gering and frothing blood, while the yells of ill were rédonblet A light fringe of brush lined the bank, and the mustang made one wild labored leap over this, as if eager for death to release him from the dread slavery of his master. It was his last bound; his hind hoofs raked through the brush which overhung the bank, and down, down all plunged into the dark wa- ters which closed over them, leaving a bubbling whirlpool upon the surface. Great God! are they dead?” It was a plunge of twenty feet from the bank to the water. Can it be that so brave a scout and Ranger as Kit, who has come out unscathed from a hun- dred hard fights, should come to such an end, and through the means of the father of ber he loves more than life itself, and who now prays to guard him from all harm, while she is a captive in savage hands, and depending upon him to deliver her? Suddenly the waters were disturbed; there is life beneath those bubbles. The snorting head of the horse breaks through the surface; the fore feet of the mustang spurns the water and he struggles toward the shore; his hoofs strike the sand; then he reaches the reed-lined bank, and jerking and half-crawlin the horse draws himself, with all the sttength left in his poor mangled frame, up, clear of the water, but stumbles out flat upon the reeds, bringing with him across the saddle the limp, dripping form of Kit, the silken sash about his waist havin opt Ta on the horn of the saddle. The noble east as, with his last strength, in his great suffering, saved a human life, for, as the mustang falls among the reeds, a torrent of blood bursts from his mouth and nostrils; its eyes glare and roll wildly, while his head sinks owly down amid the coarse grass. The brave steed is dead—its great heart bro- ken by terror, pain and exhaustion; while Kit, brought back to life by the sudden bath, half- unconsciously, like a drunken man, feels about him, and tremblingly draws himself up by the horn of the saddle to a sitting position, loosens the sash, i a himself over on the opposite side of the d horse, reclining against the same, his limbs amid the roots, bis head sup- ported by his arm, which leans over the saddle. Weak as an infant, he keeps this position, gazing in wonder and astonishment at his sur- Ba gy 2 Over his head entwine the branches of the tall river-bottom trees—the hanging vines and festoons of moss almost hiding the sunlight. At his feet rolls a river with a bank of some hight just across, and his trained eyes detect the broken brush where the mustang crashed over. Kit slowly turns his head, and casts a more wondering look at the dead horse. A couple of Indian arrows, their barbed heads just A vaghigs the skin of the horse’s neck, are | lainly to be seen, and carry his thoughts back the Comanche camp. He remembers being tied to the tree, the charge of Will Halliday, the flash of the knife in the hands of Black Wolf, the war-whoops of ps dismayed savages as the madman shot them own. He remembers nothing more. Where he was, or what brought him there, was a mystery, apparition which had | Wild Will, the Mad Ranchero. 11 There was the horse, and the spot where he sprung over the bank into the river; but how came he on the horse, and what guided him to this desolate spot? Kit was not long to remain in ignorance; there was a swaying and crushing of reeds be- hind him down the river, and the regular tread of a man came to his ears. Hoping the man was a friend, Kit lay quite still, when, to his amazement not unmingled with horror, Wild Will stood before him, water running in streams from his clothing. His enforced bath had, in a measure, cooled , off his over-heated brain, and softened the wild looks of his eyes. The paint was washed in streaks from his fea- | tures, showing the skin of a livid pallor, and not improving his gear ere was a look of mingled surprise, sorrow and anger in his face, as he gazed — his dead horse; and as he looked fixedly at Kit, the lat- ter noticed that he seemed to have pity in his eyes, and to realize that his care and attention were needed. Kit was not mistaken, for Will sprung up the bank, gathered at twigs and leaves, and then with his steel and flint started a fire. When this was done he approached the dead horse; ran his bowie-knife through the skin down the ham; then across the upper portion along the back-bone, he tore down the hide, and cut sev- eral large steaks out, and these were soon broil- ing before the fire. though Kit had taken in no small quantity of water, at the time of his plunge, yet a raging thirst tormented him, Lay i sg from the fever occasioned by his wounds; and he with some difficulty, for he was very weak and stiff, loos- ened a tin cup from the saddle, and easily dipped up water from where he lay. Taking a long drink, he afterward poured oop ir} cup-full upon his wounded leg and b e He dared not speak to Will for fear of his again becoming mad. After the steaks were done, the Red Trailer appeared before Kit, and deposited three smok- ing-hot and savory-smelling ones upon the reeds, within 7 reach; then he returned to the fire to tear and devour the remainder of the meat like a ravenous beast. Although Kit was now convinced by his ob- servation that the horse had saved his life, still he was phon under the ee pe a gnawing appetite, to partake of a portion of the animal, which he did, and heartily, too. When the scout had satisfied his hunger he felt somewhat stronger, and after many vain attempts, he at last succeeded in getting to a standing position, and by Rabe acy his joints and applying water without stint for a while, he was enabled to gain the upper bank to the fire, where to his surprise, he found that Wild Will had devoured the last morsel of horse- meat, and was in a deep sleep, which almost seemed death. That his sleep would be a long one Kit was confident; so he seated himself b the fire, and threw on more wood. Althou the sun was intensely hot out on the eairt e, Kit was chilled, owing to the loss of bl slow circulation from his weakened state, his recent bath. Taking his silken sash from his waist be bound up his wounds, app! ing a poultice made from a healing herb which he found growing near. Seated by the fire, holding his forehead with his hands, the blaze, trying to collect his thoughts and form some plan for the future. Mary was still a prisoner; he knew she was in the Comanche camp, when her father cha through it, and he knew that Will had killed a number of Indians, which would cause them to move camp at once, for fear of attack from other parties of whites who might have heard the firing. Of the charge of his brother Ran- gers, just on the heels of the Red Trailer, he was of course ignorant. Tom and Joe, the only ighaty = near, would not have any chance to liberate Mary, as the Indians would be doubly watchfu) and doubt- less send down some warriors to the ford, to b their dead. ese might also come in contact with his friends, and perhaps kill or capture them. Everything had a dark and dubious look to it, and to cap all, he was without arms or a horse, both indispensable, if he hoped to ac- complish sa Possibly the Indians had left their camp and he could regain his six-shooters, which he had thrown into the brush after emptying them at his pursuers. e must at once find out where he was. He thought he was on the Medina; could he cross the river and mount the bank, he would be able to locate himself exactly. : But, what could he do without a horse or arms? It was true, Will hada pair of revolvers; ee could he get one from him without waking im? It was worth a trial. Kit crawled up to the sleeping form of the maniac, who had saved his life from the Indians, and who was the father of his sweetheart. It was a mean trick, Kit thought, but not so i a it leaned forward and looked into-
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12 bad. as if he had left him wholly unarmed. Will would doubtless find his way to Camp Verdi, where he was well known, and get an- other horse. Kit succeeded in securing the revolver with- out disturbing the madman, and then walked up and down beneath the trees until he some- thas wore away the stiffness of his limbs. The necessity of immediate action, the know- | ledge that Mary was in savage hands, served to bring him back to himself more than anything, | as his sufferings of mind counterbalanced those of his body. His plans were quickly formed and as quickly acted upon; he proceeded to the body of the horse, loosened the lariat from its neck and started down the river. He traversed over a mile before he found the indications or trails of which he was in search, | and these were the beaten paths made by the | wild spans a on when coming from the prairies | to the south for water at the river. Selecting a spot where the brush was thick | upon both sides of the trail, he secured the end | of the lariat to the stout limb of an oak, then running the slack over the brush, he adjusted | the loop ends upon twigs on each side, leaving a large open noose just the hight that a mustang would carry its head. When all was arranged to his satisfaction Kit turned away from the river through the tim- ber, to ascertain if there were any mustangs on the prairie. Concealing himself he parted the bushes on the border of the timber, and gazed out on the plain, where, to his great joy, he saw not a mile away a herd of some forty of the noble animals he wanted coming prancing and running toward the very spot where he lay. ft was a beautiful sight at any time to see their graceful antics, their long tails sweeping | the prairie flowers, their curly manes thrown | coquettishly up and down through the air, by the tossing of their heads in playfulness. A noble roan stallion in the lead Kit hoped | would be his game; and everything was favor- | able. to that end. Anxiously the Ranger awaited the success of his trap. It was but a moment after the wild horses | had dashed past him when a scream of fright, a kicking and scrambling among the bushes, broke on his expectant ear; then the terrified | herd bounded toward the plain without a leader. Kit sprung down the trail and found the king of the herd almost choked to earth; the lariat trap had done its work! Binding a handkerchief about the eyes of the | mustang, Kit loosened the noose or loop of the lariat, and then detached the other end from | the limb of the tree. Running a loop around the under jaw of the frightened mustang, he drew out its tongue and led the animal up the | trail to the open plain. Here he lost no Lane: but immediately ary tan aa the steed’s back, | and leaning forward w the blind from its | eyes. One look of terror, of mingled surprise and madness, and the noble animal sprung high in the air, then launched away over the prairie | like the wind. CHAPTER XVIL. | BEAR CLAW AND HIS CAPTIVE. | Bear CLAW mounted upon his favorite mus- tang bounded over the moonlit prairie toward the north, holding tightly to his breast the in- animate form of Mary, whose great beauty had ired love and admiration to such an extent in his savage heart that he had dishonored him- self rather than lose her, as he feared he would had he joined his dismayed and dishearten warriors, who were left without a chief by the death of Black Eagle. He was confident that the Texans would soon be masters of the camp, but was also sure in his mind that some of his braves would escape death, and rendezvous near the Enchanted Rock as agreed upon by several small parties, who had n together when starting from the dis- tant villa, near the Staked Plains, and of which his band bad formed a part. Should he appear among them he would be branded as a coward who had brought dishonor and destruction upon his own warriors, and also those of Black Wolf, by showing a weakness in not destroying the white squaw. He knew that death awaited him should he ever again show his face among his own people; but it was too late to turn back; he would make his way to the Apaches and join that tribe with his beautiful squaw, the Rose of the Medina. Such thoughts flitted through his savage mind, He felt he had been becoming more like a squaw than a warrior since he had first beheld the pale-faced maiden in her great beauty bound to the tree in the blaze of her father’s cabin. It was the first time in his life that he had sheathed his knife or dropped his bow, when the war-cries of his braves were sounding, and the death-yells of his tribe filled his ears. Two days before, the rifle-shots and wild yells which he now plainly heard, would have made the hot blood leap within his veins, and the war- | ing. away from his kind. whoop spring to his lips. Nothing upon earth | Wild Will, the Mad Ranchero. could have kept him from joining in the battle now raging so near him but the fair face of his captive. e pressed the Rose of the Medina closely to his panting breast, and made the long raw-hide quirt hiss and cut around the hams of his horse, although the animal was flying over the plain with the speed of the wind. Suddenly the thought came to him that he might have disgraced himself and sacrificed his warriors for naught, for there seemed to be no life in the fair maid of the pale-faces; her form was limp, and he could not see or feel that she breathed at all! He remembered all her sufferings; she might die—she might be dead now! A quick pull of the reins brought his mustang upon his haunches, the loop-end of the lariat was thrust over his arm to prevent the animal from leaving, as the horse appeared much alarmed at the unusual proceedings, and at be- ear Claw slid to the venta, and taking Mary from the horse, he laid her in an easy position upon the grass, using his quiver of arrows to support her head. Detaching a bag and gourd from the cantle of his saddle, > poured water from the latter on Mary’s head, and down her parched throat, while he hoped she would be revived by the lightest zephyr of a breeze that fanned her brow from the west. As the Indian chief anxiously watched his copiive for some sign of returning life, a con- vulsive sigh broke from her beautiful lips, and her blue eyes opened in wonder. She gazed upon the azure heavens bedecked with stars, and the round, pale moon. Where was she? A shadow passed between her vision and. the orb of night. The dark, hideously-painted vis- age of Bear Claw came before her eyes; but there was no surprise or fear in her looks. She had arrived at that desperate state when, having experienced so many horrors, nothing appals. There seemed to be a soft, tender look in the chiet’s eyes, which she had not noticed previous- ly when face to face with him. He pressed the gourd again to her lips, and she took a long draught of the precious liquid; it was delicious, and put new life and strength into her weakened frame. The thought now came to her that to eat and drink would be her only salvation. She kad not cared to live, but now, she remembered, Kit had told her he loved her; had kissed her be- neath the shelter in the Indian camp; in fact, her last recollection was that Kit was holding her in his arms and running for the life of both of them. After that all was a pach | than reality, although she realize had been captured again. He had risked his life for her; ought she not try and preserve hers for his sake? here was Kit now? She raised herself to a sitting posture and gazed around. Nothing but a boundless plain met her view, except a long line of timber to the south, which she knew marked the course of a river. Was it the Medina? The fact that she was alone on the prairie with Bear Claw gave her encourag:ment. She thought it would not be so without the Indians had been attacked and defeated by the Rangers; else why should the chief be away from his war- riors? When Bear Claw offered her a quantity of dried meat and parched corn he was overjoyed to see her eat with a ravenous appetite. A resolution was now formed in her brain; she knew she had far better chance to escape, now that but one was left to watch her move- ments. Bear Claw gazed with admiration and adora- tion at his fair captive, then addressed her in what was to him a soft, low tone: “Bear Claw glad to see Rose eat—she been much heap sick—Rose eat—get well quick— have venison when sun comes—Bear Claw heart soft when with Rose of Medina—she fair as rairie-flower—Bear Claw no take Rose—braves urn at torture-fire—scalp Rose-—-Bear Claw Apache now—Comanche no more—take Rose to Apache hunting-grounds—over big river—Pecos —she be his squaw.” “The Rose, as you call me, will never be the squaw of the red-man,” exclaimed Mary, in a tone not to offend. ‘ Whereis Kit, my friend —the Eagle Eye, as you call him?” At the mention of this dreaded, hated name the Indian’s eyes snapped; and a dark scow hovered upon his countenance as he angrily an- swered, in an exultant tone: “Eagle Eye gone to his fathers—his scalp hang at Comanche belt—Comanche knife red with Eagle Eye blood—Rose never see more— Bear Claw no kill Rose people—no stop braves on war-path—Great Spirit heavy hand on Will —he much bad—wild like mustang—ride off there—Camp Verdi—know nothing—braves heap ’fraid ride in camp—think devil.” ary, noticing intently and weighing every word spoken by Bear Claw, gazed up into his dream more that her hero eyes with a look so far removed from fear that it surprised and gratified him. She had ceased eating at his last remark. Her father, then, was still alive: would he have sense enough to follow and rescue her? Alas! she feared not; for she doubted if he knew or realized that she still lived. But Kit, he could not be dead; she felt that he still lived; he must live for her sake; God would pecly. not take her last friend on earth from er. Was the assurance that he still lived whisper- ed to her by the gentle south-west breeze which had so recently fanned his cheek as he was borne by her maniac father further and further away from home? “Kit the Eagle Eye scout lives!” suddenly burst from Mary’s lips, in a prophetic voice. ‘“* There is a lie in your mouth, and your cheek shall pale when his war-cry sounds in your ears.” As Mary said this her eyes turned heaven- ward and she muttered: P me Oh, Ged! grant me this assurance or let mo ie! Had a rattlesnake sprung at his heart, with its fearful rattle sounding in his ears, the In- dian chief could not have bounded to his feet more quickly, Ue gazed around the plain on every side, as if expecting to see Kit, and to hear the threatened cry of war. ‘* Who has told Rose Eagle Eye lives—do pale- faces whisper over big plain?” whispered Claw, in astonished wonder. “No!” answered Mary, reverently rising to her feet, her long curls hanging down over the shoulders, her hands and eyes raised toward the sky. ‘The Great Spirit has whispered that Eagle Eye lives, and He never tells a lie !” he chief shrunk back with superstitious awe. The angelic figure before him, her extreme beauty and innocence, together with the vene- ration expressed upon her face, as she added an- other prayer of thanksgiving to God for having given her in this strange way the assurance that he she loved still lived, strangely impressed him, and as the color came once more into her cheeks, adding to her ravishing beauty, the chief smoth- ered down his feelings of awe, and again put on the cloak of the warrior which had been cast aside through his great admiration for his cap- tive. **Come; Bear Claw no squaw—-he no fool— Rose has eat—moon soon hide below plain --then sun come—white warriors find Bear Claw trail —want his scalp. Come, Roe is with Bear Claw—his heart is glad.” Bear Claw at this sprung into his saddle, and leaning down encircled Mary’s waist with his arm, and drew her once more up before him. The quirt cut the air, and again they bounded on like the wind over the plain, Mary knew that it would be impossible for her to escape while the Indianlived. She knew that, by some means, she must kill him! But could she accomplish bis death? She could await something to turn up in her favor; her mind was filled with plans, and her eyes were minutely inspecting every trapping and weapon of Bear Claw. His bow and quiver were athis back, and long scalping-knife at his belt; if she could get the latter from his belt without his knowledge, was her arm strong enough to drive the knife to his heart? Nothing but a mortal wound must be iven, she must make a sure thing, or all would lost, for Bear Claw would prevent any such attempt being made again. ‘ The sky was maWwing Heo in the east; it would soon be Nay e line of timber to the south was no longer in view, but another exact- ly ay it was in plain sight before them to the north. That this timber would be the selected hiding- place of Bear Claw she was confident. The dried meat and corn had made her feel more like herself: but the assurance that Kit was alive had done more to brace her up, and give her courage, than anything else. The future did not look so dark now, and she was surprised at her own unconcern; it was not that she did not feel one-half so desolate and hopeless; it was a mystery born of love’s young eam. She felt sure that Kit would follow the trail; his keen eyes might even now be glancing into the hoof-prints of the mustang which was bear- ing her away; if not, if he was so badly wound- ed that he could not come to her, she would kill Bear Claw and go to him. She felt a greater confidence in herself than she had ever felt be- fore. A deep scowl was seated upon the brow of the chief as his piercing eyes scanned the timber ahead which marked the course of the Guada- lupe. At times he would turn in his saddle and give a sweeping glance over the plain to the west, south and east, but naught was in sight to break the vast sea of grass and flowers. The sun burst in all its Southern splendor above the timber-tops which lined each side of the beautiful Guadalupe. To the north went the wiry mustang with its double load, until he was within three hundred yards of the dark shades of the bottom timber, when Bear Claw suddenly changed the animal’s course up the stream and parallel with it,
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Wild Will, He was too cautious to enter the woods until | badass hemo horses upon their haunches with as- he was certain there were no enemies lurking in its shades. How was he to know when he came to a safe lace of entrance? This was the thought of ary, as she noticed the change of course, but she soon saw how well an Indian could read the signs of nature. ey had eaiopes: up the stream but a short distance, when a large herd of deer came slowly cropping the green twigs in their path from the ae hate they had just taken their morning in Here the chief turned his mustang and dashed into the timber, scattering the timid animals in every direction, for he knew if any human be- ing was near, the deer would not be there. is lariat hissed through the air, and the noose encircled the neck of a young fawn, too bewildered to take the right direction to escape. Bear Claw lowered Mary to a mossy bank, beneath the hanging draperies of nature. His one great object now was to break his trail, for he knew that Mary must have rest before they proceeded further; besides, the open prairie which he would have to travel would be dan- gerous in the daytime; therefore he concluded to stop, hidden in the bottom, until night came i 7 before going toward the west. @ led his mustang into the shallow water, then up the stream until a dense mass of wild- rye was reached, and in this his horse was se- curely hidden, and also provided with food in the nutritious grain, ‘ Retracing his way through the oaks, being careful not to leave any signs of his own steps, he secured the end of an extra lariat to that which was fastened to the trembling fawn, and then led the latter down the stream, coiling the loose rope in his left hand at the same time. Once more the lariat whirled a moment over the chief’s head and was sent with velocity across the river—the noose falling over a snag on the opposite shore. : The rope was drawn tight, the fawn led into the water, the slack of the rope taken up and secured to the neck of the animal. / Bear Claw returned to the side of his captive, who had watched his every movement with great interest. “‘Come!” exclaimed Bear Claw; ‘ the Rose of Medina shall have rest—she must eat—she must slee; ome!” and taking Mary by the arm he walked ap the river amid the trees, watching intently everything in his front. They had not far to walk—for a grunt of sat- isfaction burst from the chief’s lips as they reached a point where a huge tree, having been washed about the roots by the strong current of the river, leaned over, its branches mingling and entwining with those of the trees upon the apponite bank. he tree leaned just enough to make it easy to climb, but the passage through the branches, et aes above the raging torrent, was more ifficult. The chief was forced to carry Mary in his arms most of the way; but both landed safely a the other bank, and then walked down the ver. Bear Claw had, it was evident to Mary, been there before, for in a very short time she found herself in a small clear spot, surrounded by a dense thicket, with but one possible entrance. Here the chief left her fora moment, and re- turned with the fawn dripping wet. She understood it all; he had been to the snag over which he had thrown the lariat, and drag- ged the animal through the water, not daring to Lit on the other side, as it would leave too plain a “sign” of their presence near, Mary gazed pitifully at the beautifully-spot- ted animal, whose innocent pl g eyes were turned to hers, as if for mercy. She compared her situation to that of the fa and covered her face with her hands, as the chief with his long scalping-knife prepared to butcher the little animal, as he had many a human being of her own color. But her thoughts soon wandered, thinking of her lover, and speculating as to what he was doing, until Bear Claw placed before her some hot broiled portions of the fawn, together with parched corn and a gourd of water. The fawn was out of all sufferings in this world, and hence Mary’s appetite would not her to indulge in sentiment. Her reso- ution to do all she could to regain strength was carried out by her partaking of a hearty meal. CHAPTER XVIII, THE FIGHT ON THE PRAIRIE. Bia Foot, Jack, Clown and the Tonkaway galloped at as fast a speed as was ble, and at the same time br the trail of Yo ag Raven in the lead, leaning over his mustang’s shoulder with his keen eyes upon the hoof-prints of the Comanche chief’s horse, occupied the re- sponsible position of first trailer. The sun rose into the heavens and the spot was y+ goog where Mary had been resuscitated and fed by her captor, and the bottom-timber of the Guadalupe river was in plain view, when Raven, who was intent on observing the trail was brought to a sudden halt by a shrill yell from Big Foot, which caused the Rangers to tonishment. “By ther jumping Ge-hoss-i-fat! an’ all Ge- ru-ci-lem! are ye all blind?’ exclaimed the giant scout, his voice expressing the utmost anger and isgust. ‘* Thar’s more reds ’n w’u’d gobble up Burleson’s company, let alone sich a slim squad as this here. I’d’a’ reckoned on gittin’ Mollie outen this scrape without much more blood- spillin’, but we’re dished fur the dangest slim- mest show yit, fur thar nags are fresh, an’ ther cusses are gittin’ in atween us an’ timber ahead. Clown, them’s yer old friends, ther ’Paches, shure as yer born.” Each of the Rangers at the first sight of their numerous foes, and realizing at a glance the advantage the Indians held over them, felt the very marrow in their bones chill. One-half of a large war-party were in a dead run between the Rangers and the timber, and curving in a long line toward the west, while the remainder were on a run like mad to the east to cut them off from retreating in that direction. Not a movement was made by Big Foot’s party to advance or retreat; they had depended on the Tonkaway to look out ahead for danger —in fact expected none, and being extremely worn for want of rest, had ridden, as is often the case on the plains, partly asleep on their horses; but they were wide awake now, and oer dangerous position made them think rap- i Dang the red devils, thar a-goin’ to circle on us, an’ we’ve got ter do sum purty plum shootin’ ter show ’em what we’re made of; but I reckon by the looks of things, our sculps ar’ spoke fur, least-a-ways I feel a crawlin’ at the ruts o’ my h’ar. What yer think on ther way things have turned out, boys?’ Before Big Foot had ceased speaking the little band of Rangers were cut off from retreat and hemmed in on every side. “T reckon we've got into the wrong coach, an’ on ther wrong line, too,” answered Jack Hodge, ‘‘ but we might as well sling our fare at ’em, in hard slugs, an’ let ’em know we ain’t ready fur ther through trip quite yit. I hold two six-spots an’ an ace an’ bet”—s ing his hand on revolver and rifle—‘‘ I Can tt a full hand outen ther draw.” ‘Pards!” exclaimed Clown, “hold yer fire till ther varmints cum in clos’t; they don’t know the distance these Sharp’s rifles can sling a ball, an’ we'll git half-a-dozen shots afore they can draw out o’ range.” “Strike dirt, boys!” shouted Big Foot, in a determined voice. ‘Keep yer’sel’s ahind yer nage, and fotch the extry animiles outside the hull; that’ll givé us a show fur chances. Watch an’ wait till yer see’s thar eyes snap. Look sharp, Tonk! Ther cusses hates a red what goes with white folks.” “Raven no care for Apache dogs,” returned the Tonkaway; “wait till come near—shoot fast—kill heap braves—make Apache mad—then ump on mustang—ride fast to river—much mn rece gpd or fight—when warriors few.” “Yer he’d’s levil, Tonk,” cried Big Foot; ‘that’s our game, boys; give ’em a taste o’ our Sharps, then, when they ar’ ruther mixed like, we'll jump ther game an’ make our sixes cut a a ur us; but, wait fur ther word.” e bya bon were now entirely surrounded by one whirling mass of circling Indians— feather-bedizened, wcer-painted Apaches, who were rene like fiends. Each Ranger was now standing behind his mu with his deadly long-range rifle resting across the saddle. As the Indians neared the seemingly doomed Rangers, and the black glittering eyes of the former flashed hatred at their white foes, they drew bows from sheaths, and arrows hung be- tween the fingers of their ready hands, to be sent with lightning velocity into the little circle which formed the hub of the wheel of war. “Ther varmints ar’ cummin’ too clost, boys,” exclaimed Big Foot, suddenly, “‘ git ready with er shooters; hav’ yer extra cartridge ready, an’ jist do sum talllead-slinging. Now! Give it to em. Fire!” The four rifles blended in one loud report just as the Apache war-cry burst on the air, with blood-curdling power, from a hundred throats and a hundred pointed glittering steel-headed arrows hissed and cut the air, from all around the circle. An instant after another and another loud re- port burst from the rifles of the Rangers, until the t dexterity of the whites in reloading made it seem that a score were within that little clump of horses. At every volley braves fell upon all sides, among the yelling, whirling horde, and often as a warrior halted his mustang an instant to drag a wounded brother brave back, beyond the fire of the whites, he wrgied headlong from his horse, dead by the side of him he strove to save. At the first volley the Indians began to draw away and the circle commenced to e in place of contracting; the clouds of arrows which flew through the air fell short, or those that reached the whites had lost their force and did no damage. Fast flashed the Sharp's rifies; larger and the Mad Ranchero. 13 larger grew the circle of painted warriors and wild steeds withdrawing further and further away from the Rangers; still the deadly rifles sent death in among them. They were not o Bees er: at the long dis- tance the rifles sent their leaden death-warrants, but at the accuracy of the whites’ shooting, whom they had thought to capture without any trouble. “ Hist yersel’s, boys!” yelled Big Foot; “sling yer Sharps an’ git-up-an’-git lively, arter me; we'll make a run for timber an’ bu’st in this In- jun ring. Don’t none on yer wilt in yer boots, an’ don’t mind gittin’ yer spurs bloody. Cum on, E—e—e—e ho!! Hurrah! fur Gineral Jack- son, Davy Crockett and ther Lone Star State?” Away went the Rangers toward that portion of the Indian circle nearest the timber; instant- ly those warriors near the point for which the whites were making charged to meet and inter- cept them, until a score were directly in the path of the four brave men who came on abreast at dare-devil speed, their bridle-reins between their teeth, and a Colt’s revolver in each hand. It was a perfect hurtling of lead into the midst of the Indians before they could with any regularity prepare to meet the charge of the desperate men who held their lives in their hands. The quick-playing fingers made the six-shoot- ers to rattle, and it was more than the Apaches could stand; they fell so thick and fast that the dead were in the way of the living, who could not use their weapons to advantage. e Ran- ers dashed through and over them, crushing the skulls and limbs of the fallen with the hoofs of their mustangs. Turning in their saddles the scouts fired what few shots they had left from their revolvers, and once more brought their rifles into play, loading and firing on the run. Not an Indian was left between them and the river-bottom, which was but a short distance ahead, and they were sure of making a cover where they could defend themselves to better advantage. Never before was a war-party of Apaches so filled with astonishment and surprise at the turn affairs had taken; they looked in maddened an- r upon the heaps of slain as they rode past them, in the chase after the four men who had so successfully evaded them. Fierce war-cries rent the air, and frequent death-yells rung over the Ponies while the monotonous death-songs of the mortally wound- ed caused the survivors to gnash their teeth with fury, and lash their mustangs on the path for revenge. But this eagerness was cooled down, as the Rangers safely galloped under the branches of the oaks, sprung from their mustangs, and, with a rapidity mysterious to the wondering Indians, sent volley after volley into their ranks until they were forced to fall back out of range. Just at this moment a horse came bounding down the river, on the border of the timber, and upon the back of the animal sat a beautiful white girl, her long curls flying behind in the wind, her cheeks flushed, and she was pulling with all her strength upon the rein, striving in vain to turn the stubborn steed into the bottom timber, and toward the whites. She was some distance from the latter, but they, observing the Indians madly galloping up the stream, turned to see what was the cause, and discovered Mary, for whom they had come so near sacrificing their lives. sey sprung out from the woods, waving their hats and yelling, to attract her attention; but from the manner she rode they saw she had no control over the mustang, which they knew must be the same animal which belonged to the chief, Bear Claw. It was plain to see that they could be of no service to her, and that she would again be a captive to the reds. ‘I tell yer, boys,” said Big Foot, sadly, ‘‘ this are cussed mean. I'll sling it ag’in that I never seen things look so danged bamfoosedly mixed afore. Jist tew think, after so much skarmish- in’ an’ real ole out-an’-out tough fi’tin’, that we've got tew stand here an’ gaze at that gal o’ Will’s glide rite outen ther fryin’-pan inter ther blue blaze! She’da heap better stayed easy with Bar Claw an’ we’d ’a’ fotched her out hunk, sure an’ sarton, soon r or later, but now she are clear dead sure fur a right smart long trail with a cussed site of misery on ther end on’t, ora short one ter kingdom cum. Boys, I pass; I hain’t got no hand, and yer can slip me ther next deal.” —— CHAPTER XIX. A WOMAN’S PLUCK. WE must now return to Mary Halliday, and explain how she came to escape from the Co- manche chief. It was only a little while after her savage cap- tor had placed before her the broiled fawn and parched corn of which she had made a hearty meal, that Bear Claw approached her, holding Me his hands several buckskin strings, saying to er: “Bear Claw sl Rose slee away—tie hands, tie feet.” an Rose no run suiting the ac-
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14 | Wild tions to the words he bound Mary, hand and foot, and, returning to the opposite side of the opening, he lay down upon the grass, and soon his deep breathing told Mary that her enemy was asleep. Now, thought she, was the time for action; now or never must she make an attempt to es- cape the dread fate which was in store for her er she be taken to the far-away Apache and. Sbe was bound with buckskin which was quite dry; by wetting it it would stretch! She managed, after considerable trouble and pain, to wor her body near where the water | gourd lay, and also to remove the grass stopper ; | then, holding her wrists under the mouth, she allowed the water, by tipping the gourd, to gra- dually moisten the thongs until they became saturated; then, by jerking, twisting and pull- ing, her bonds became loose enough to allow of her drawing her hands through easily. When her hands were free the unloosening of her ankles was readily accomplished, and she was her own mistress; but, there lay the hide- | ous, dreaded savage, who would awaken at the slightest rustle of a branch or break of a twig. ust she kill him as he slept? She felt that she could not hope to gain her way through the bushes up the river without awakening the chief, and her chances after a recapture would be greatly lessened by this at- som’ to escape. ary stood upright and gazed upon the sleep- ing form of the demon before her—nerving her- | self for the—murder? No! It was 10 murder, for, although formed in human shape, he was but a fiend. His knife lay beside the remains of the r innocent fawn, red with its blood, as it had been before with her own dear mother’s. He was the murderer of those most dear to her upon earth, and she hesitated no longer, but seized the keen-edged scalping-blade, Stealing as silently as a panther toward the sleeping savage, holding in her breath, her heart in her throat, ‘Mary finally stood over the re- cumbent form of the chief. She dare not delay for fear those black, pierc- ing eyes would open, and the glittering steel be turned to her own breast. Her trembling arm became firm, her teeth clenched, and with all the strength she could control, Mary drove the knife to the hilt into the breast of Bear Claw, and the next instant rung toward the path which led from the lit- © opening. Here, before the bushes woul: break the view, she turned and cast a hurried glance back; she could not help it—a dreadful fascination drew her back—her feet seemed frozen to the earth. Bear Claw had, although mortally wounded, with a superhuman effort sprung to his feet, his eyes glared with intense hatred and awful agony at the terrified girl. He made one step toward Mary, which froze the marrow in her bones, and congealed the blood in her veins with horror. His hand went trembling to the handle of the knife which pierced him, and, unable to bear the torture, he oper it forth, to be followed by a hot stream of 0 The eyes of Bear Claw rolled in agony; the death-yell si 4 from his lips; blood forced it- self from mouth and nostrils, and with a gurg- ling, gasping shriek of anguish he fell prone upon the st ye aa a grass, a corpse, Mary grasped the bushes as she swayed back and forth, faint and sick at the dreadful sight; but, the thought of his savage nature and bru- tal acts came to drive away those of regret and repentance at having taken human life in so murderous a manner. Mary fell upon her knees and offered a prayer of thankfulness to God for delivering her from the hideous monster who now lay but a lump of lifeless clay before her. Her prayer of thanks over, she arose and gazed about the dusky shadows of the bottom timber, and realized her loneliness, What should she do? Where should she go? A volley of rifle-shots, followed by the terrible Apache war-cry, rung through the before silent woods to answer her. The sounds of conflict came from over the river. That her friends were on her trail she could not doubt, but what Indians were these to op- pose them? This was a mystery she must clear up immediately, and join those who were risk- ing their lives to rescue her. ary bounded, as graceful as the r fawn had before in crossing the trail of Claw, up the river, until she came to the high-hanging natural bridge. Up she sprung in the branches—over, and under, and through, where at another time she would not have dared to venture. High up, over the seething waters, from limb to limb, as nimble as a squirrel, went the eager girl, the rifle-shots urging her to greater exertion, until at last she stood upon the mosses at the foot of the leaning pecan; but she did not linger; the horse of the chief must once more bear her over the prairies; this time alone. She glided through the tall wild rye and stood before the snorting mustang. The saddle had not been removed, and Mary loosened the larias from the limb of the oak and led the horse clear of the tall rye. She then gathered the rope, hand over hand up to the head of the chm ny horse, patted gently his nose and speaking in a friendly, win- ning way; but the sounds of war were near, and the actions of the animal showed that he was eager for the fray. ening the impatient steed alongside a fallen tree-trunk, Mary sprung into the saddle. No sooner had she touched the horse’s back, when away went the wild steed toward the scene of conflict through the woods. When the horse and fair rider dashed through the parting boughs, and were on the open prai- rie, Mary saw quickly her great mistake; but too late, for the war-horse so used to bearing his master into battle refused to be guided or checked in speed by the weakened inf, and oor Mary, having just escaped from a horrible fate, found herself again a captive, surrounded by a crowd of fierce-scrowling war-painted Apaches | whom recent defeat by the Rangers had made furious. Loud, exultant cries filled the air as they bound Mary fast to the horse which she rode, and then galloped with her to the dead-be- sprinkled battle-field. CHAPTER XX. LARRY MAKES A DISCOVERY. Ir was some two hours before noon of the same day they started from the camp of the de- feated Comanches, that the small band of Reck- less Joe galloped up the bank of the Medina river at the very point where the horse of the Red Trailer had made the leap over with his ae master and Kit’s senseless form on his ck. They had been able to follow the trail at a fast lope, as Will’s horse was not fresh and car- ried a double load, As the Texans and Larry brought their mus- tangs to a halt on the brink of the bank, and gazed down, a score of buzzards idly flap their wings, and arose from about the dead horse, but were too anxious for the expectant feast to fly away. A few sneaking coyotes slunk under the dark recesses amid the river reeds with blood-drip- ping jaws. ‘* By all the ‘Gods of War’!” burst from the lips of Reckless Joe, mingled with deep grief, and astonishment; ‘‘ here ends the trail and also the lives of Wild Will and Kit. There lays sign that talks plain.” “Hold on, Joe,” interrupted Tom: ‘T’ll own things look like as if they’d thro’d thar cards an’ passed in thar checks, but I’ve alwis made it a pont ter not jump at anything till 1 took a squar’ ook, an’ knew whar I ware, an’ whar I was cummin’ out. Let’s drap outen our saddles, take asot down an’ gaze at things about long enuf ter shuffle an’ sling a new lay-out. Im as payed out as a mustang arter a long stampede.” ITY, slip frum yer nag an’ take a rest; yer lookin’ blue about ther gills.” “Blue, is it, Misther Tom?’ returned Larry. “Sure it’s brown I ought to be, after the hot ride I’m afther havin’, wid divil a tree to kape the hot sun frum me, or a bite to ate, an’ sorra a noggin o’ potheen. Bedad! but it’s no ’asy job to git down frum the same. ’Pon my soul it’s provokin’ it is to be perishun wid thirst, an’ wather be the barrals rollin’ mei Sg Sie out 0’ rach. Arrah! but I'll have sum if Ihastoswim afther it.” While Larry was trying to find some safe a proach to the water below, Joe and Tom held the ends of their lariats, allowing their mus- tangs to range and crop the grass, and at times gazing wistfully down at the cool water. The boys seated themselves on the bank and began to scan everything upon the opposite shore, trying to form conclusions in their minds as to the fate of Kit and the madman. The two Rangers Mies some time investigat- ing as far as they could by eyesight, and reason- ing within their minds upon the mystery which lay before them, not taking any notice of Larry, who was blundering about the bushes up the stream, muttering to himself, *“One thing is plain to me, Tom,” said Joe, breaking the silence; ‘‘ Kit was wounded bad, and without his senses when he went over this bank, for he never would have stayed on the horse with Will had he known what he was about. The mustang has not let up from a fast lope since they left the Indian camp, the trail shows that; and also that Kit has lost a large Sgt of blood. It’s a sure thing that both it and Will went over here on that horse, and just as plain that the mustang crawled out without them, for the animal was dying, or nearly so, when he made that leap; and it is also certain that he unseated both of them— must have, for it’s a deep hole and the fall would take them under water,” “Wal, Joe,” returned Tom, “I gives in that Kit ware not ’zactly in ther fix tew spread him- self on ther swim, much; fact are, I reckon he’s oe under, fur sure, but as tew Will’s havin’ slum in an’ skooted on ther Jong dark trail, I’m danged ef 1 thinks ther cuss ware made tew be killed anyways, or he’d ’a’ bin good fur a six- root laad warraat back yonder among ther reds. Will, the Mad Ranchero. As it ware, you can follow his trail.anywhare; it’s red with the blood—” At this moment the two Rangers were brought to their feet by a yell of terror from Larry, and looking up the river from whence the cry eman- ated, they saw an immense panther just leaping from the branches of a tree to the bank below, and at the same time another yell of desperation and despair, followed by a crashing of brush, and then aloud splashing plunge in the river, came to their ears. The sharp reports of the rifles of Tom and Joe echoed through the timber, and the panther rolled over and over in the agonies of death to- ward the verge of the steep bank. The two Rangers gazed anxiously down into the water, just as the head of Larry broke through the surface. He gave one wild, horri- fied look backward as he struck out for the op- posite bank, but that look was enough; it was . given just as the panier, in the last gasps and struggles of death, toppled over the bank and went rolling down into the water, not three feet from the head of the Irishman. With a yell which sent the buzzards flapping away in every direction, and rendered the mus- tangs almost unmanageable, and with eyes bulging from his head in terror, Larry disa peared again below the surface, to avoid the clutches of the dreaded beast, which he thought was taking a second leap after him, for in his great fear, and being under the water at the time Tom and Joe had fired, he did not know the brute was dead. Joe and Tom, although surrounded by uncer- tainty and great fears for the safety of a dear friend, could not restrain their mirth, but rolled on the sward, convulsed with laughter at the ludicrous incident which had broken up their conversation. As many events, however insignificant they may appear at the time, go to make up impor- tant links in the chain of our lives, so this acci- dent which happened to Larry proved to be the means of unvailing a portion of the mystery which hung around the dead mustang and ab- sent riders. Larry soon appeared above the water again, abreast of the boys. He had swum so long un- der water that his face looked more like a corpse’s than that of a living man; but when he saw the Rangers laughing, and the panther floating on the surface, dead, he made for the opposite shore, breathing heavily with exertion and fright, and landing, seated himself among the reeds near the Baad horse of Wild Will. The Irishman was now at his wits’ end to turn things in his own favor, for he feared ridicule more than he did the war-cries of Comanches. As soon as he could regain his breath he yelled triumphantly to the Rangers: ““Phat do yees think o’ that, b’ys? Did yees aver see anything n’ater than that same? Sure I bate the divil divin’; an’ pon me soul, I’m thinkin’ he’s de’d wid grafe at bain’ overdun be an Irishman, or maybe he broke his neck in the fall—I don’t know which, an’ divil bit care I.” ‘““What yer bin doin’ with that panther Larry?’ shouted Tom. ‘‘What’s the tr’uble with you two?” ‘*Sure we ware afther havin’ a bit ev a dis- pute betune us, Misther Tom, bafore we made an’agrament, Isupposethe hairy divil thought he’d be afther b’atin’ me at a dive. Begorra! *tware betther fur him we niver mit.” ‘What did yer bawl so for, Larry?” asked Tom; ‘‘ we thought it ware yer death-yell.” “Faith that was the signal we agrade upon betune us, whin the time came to make the lape;” and then to avoid further questions from the boys, who were in vain striving to keep sober countenances, he strode past the dead horse and disappeared in the brush to reconnoiter on his own hook. Ina moment after he stood before the smoldering fire, left burning a short time before by Kit. gazed in astonishment at the fire, and then his eyes wandered around among the trees until they fell upon the still sleeping form of the Red Trailer, who had remained undisturbed by the confusion and rifle-shots, as he was sleeping for the first time since the massacre of his fam- ily. Gasry was for a moment frozen to the spot; his eyes again stared in terror at the hideously- Pe features, down which ran streaks of a ivid, ghastly hue, showing in strong contrast where the water had washed away the paint. The almost imperceptible breathing of the poor man was unnoticed by Larry, who supposed he was gazing at a corpse. The dark, somber shadows of the bottom tim- ber, the dull flapping of the wings of the buz- zards, the occasional sneaking rush of a coyote through the brush, and the presence of death in so horrid a form, Sega with his recent fright, so worked upon the superstitious nature of y that he was, for a time, paralyzed with a deadly, overpowering fear, which shortly gave way enough for him to realize bis position, and to return to him the use of his limbs, which he quickly availed himself of. ith a yell which threw all his former vocal accompl ents into the shade he bounded back down the bank. The yell awoke the mad man, who clutehed a heavy pieee «of wood and
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Wild Will, the Mad Ranchero. hurled it among the swaying branches which marked the course taken by Larry. The crashing of the stick at the heels of the Irishman, who thought the horrible corpse was in pursuit of him, made his hair to stand on end, congealed the blood in his veins, and his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, refusing to do its usual duty, but this took nothing from his speed, and such wild leaps were never seen before by Joe and Tom, whose attention had been attract- ed by Larry’s yell, as he sprung for the river. In one desperate bound he cleared the dead horse, and the next took him far out into the water, and once more poor Larry disappeared beneath the waters of the Medina. ‘‘ What in thunderation is up now?’ ex- claimed Tom, aroused by the Irishman’s yell. “T reckon Larry’s made a match with anuther ther on a flyin’ race, an’ he’s jist knocked thar spots outen the animile at that. Joe, Pll bet twenty saddle-nags that Larry can out- jump, rw: dive an’ yell any human white, red, yaller or lack, this side ther Rockies. He’s a reg’lar cuss, he are, an’ I freeze ter him frum this day out asa pard. Here he cums. Sling er lariat down an’ we’ll haul him up outen ther ink. Reckon he ain’t so almi’ty dry an’ as he ware.” The Irishman’s head came up at the base of the bank, as Tom addressed the last remark to Joe. Larry, his head turned back to the opposite shore, clutched wildly at the soft clay, trying in vain to climb up the slimy, perpendicular Seeing no signs of the horrible corpse which he had thought in close pursuit of him, he casta wistful, pleading look up to his comrades for help, just as the lariat was lowered for him to grasp. In a moment after Larry was drawn up and seated on the grass, between Tom and Joe, whose great curiosity to know what had alarm- ed the Irishman—suspecting it was something connected with the object of their search—kept them from laughing at the comical appearance and actions of their pard. Gazing at the other side of the river in hor- rible anticipation, panting with weakness, the Irishman crossed himself, and then in a hurried manner addressed his comrades: ‘God save us all, for it’s the divel himsilf ’m afther sain’, barrin’ the tail, an’ I’m_not shure but it was that same what was whiskin’ about the bushes afthur me. Heaven an’ the blissed Saint Patrick stand betune us an’ allharum, an’ defind us, fur it’s not far frum Purgatory we is. Sure I'll bliss the hour we l’ave this hole, an’ me curse on all what’s init; a mon can’t say what minute he’s not in mortal danger o’ death. Musha! which way is ould Ireland frum this? Begorra, if I c’u’d only hav’ a kiss o’ the Emer- ald Isle, ’'a lay down on the daisies an’ die wid cumfort an’ aise.” Larry,” said Tom, ‘‘calm yerself; nothin’ ain’t a-goin’ ter hurt yer when yer with us. If we hadn’t bored a hole through ther panther, he’d ’a’ beat yer on ther leap an’ dive, bet yer life! Now, jist sling it in plain English: whatia thunder has yer seen in ther brush yonder; what made yer h’ist yerself so speedy { knows ye’re no coward, fur yer jist waded inter ther reds down below , arter yer got yer han’ inter ther biz.” scratched his head, withdrew his gaze from dead horse, and looked at his com- } «anions; suddenly his face brightened as he an- swered: “Be the powers 0’ pewther, I mind the time whin yees ware all mighty near s to dith, be the same what I seen; but the divel was alive, an’ ridin’ a horse. Do yees forgit the time beyant be the crassin’, an’ Misther Bi, Huff an’ ther other b’ys ware wid us, an’ tha’ wild divel wid his face painted cum ridin’ be- tune us, wid never a look at ather? Do yees mind whin he went afther the Injuns alone, be himsilf? Be jabers! but he’s the same we're af- ’ ther what was ridin’ the dead horse below there a bit, an’ ’pon me soul he’s dead himsilf enthire- ly an’ layin’ in the bush.” Joe and Tom looked at each other significant- ly, as the former asked, earnestly: y, are you sure Wild Will—for I su pose you mean him—is dead, and if so, why did you run from him?” “Sure that’s the mon, or divil, or whatever he is,” answered Larry, quickly. ‘“ Wild Will; troth an’ it’s a fair name for the likes of him, but I know a better—Bludy Wiil, for it’s the same that he l’aves behind him, but he’ll not make it more. Begorra! it’s the wolves what’s givin’ him a dacint wake, an’ the dirty buzzards err. “her joy over him.” ut what did you run for, Larry?” i oe Joe; ‘he couldn’t hurt* you if ones ead. ‘***Pon me soul,” answered Larry, in a cau- tious whisper, gazing suspiciously over the stream, ‘‘1’d not stop near him fur the world, an’ [’ll niver forgit the sight ef him till me dy- in’ day, which, God help me, I’m thinkin ’s not far off. Sure, don’t yees know that his soul is a-hoverin’ over him, he havin’ died widout praste or prayer, an’ his spirit, knowin’ the bad place it bas ter go, is now whiskin’ round in the 15 woods, for the divil, his masther, I’m supposin’, wouldn’t be expicted to be handy at all times, in sich a wild cuss ev a counthry, to claim his own.” Tom here sprung to his feet, exclaiming, im- | patiently: ‘ Pre this won’t do. Stop here; | mind my nag; ‘1 soon settle this thing. If our pard an’ Will are dead, we’re needed ter help ther livin’; so here goes fer an investigate, as ther Congressers say.” Tom drew his revolvers, passed them to Joe, phe his bowie-knife for defense, and was lowered by the lariat to the river. In a short space of time he gained the oppo- site shore, and commenced an examination of all signs about the horse, then made his way through the bushes up the higher bank. The partly-consumed fire was there; the crumpled grass where Wild Will had lain, but no human was in view. Tom’s keen eyes swept the ground in all di- rections until he read the signs and trails, more — to him than printed books. He lost no ime, but hastened to join Joe and Larry, tak- ing a gourd from Will’s saddle, and filling it at the river for Joe. As he stood once more on the bank and gave his pard the much needed drink, he said, hastily: ‘“* Boys, our game’s up here; Will ain’t ‘round or Kit either an’ neither one’s dead. Kit has slapped down the river, and Will have skedad- dled sumwhar up creek, I don’t care a cuss whar; he has give us a tuff run fur nothin’, an’ ther sooner we ln rego ter help our pards on ther Guadalupe ther better. Kit will fetch up hunk, bet a slug!” Joe, Tom and Larry—the latter casting anxi- ous looks behind—were soon galloping down the river, where they found a trail which led toa | point where they could water their horses. ‘“‘Sure an’ ye say the corpus was not afther bain’ there at all at all?’ asked Larry of Tom. “Troth an’ that oer what I was afther sayin’ to yees. Bedad! but the ould one wid hoofs, horns an’ tail has him be this, takin’ him to his infarnal home, an’ I’d not be sarprised but he’d frighten the divils thimselves whin he goes rav- in’ an’ ragin’ into rim eee “Don’t yer be sure of that, Larry,” an- swered Tom; ‘‘ you’ll see the cuss afore anuther | noon, I reckon, jist on ther rampage as usual, an’ maybe b’ilin’ over wuss, fer ther Red Trail- os a? dead yet; os ee word’s travel now; on’t spare yer spurs, fur they may want us on tother trail.” re Aion 4 After clearing the hills they struck toward the Guadalupe river, not thinking it necessary to return to the battle-field of the previous night, as they could by following a course north- | east come out somewhere near where Big Foot’s | rty would strike the river, as the trail of ear Claw ran due north from the Comanche | camp. "Tow felt that Kit would make for the place where he knew Mary to be last, and once there, with his knowledge of trailing, he would soon find out the direction taken by the eae in pur- suit; so he had no fears for Kit, allowin at the latter had recovered from his wounds and rough treatment. This he communicated to Joe, as they rode at as fast a lope as the condition of their mustangs would F a pe toward the point where they would find my tal sadly needed, and also that dangers and culties were thickening. CHAPTER XXI. THE RED TRAILER TO THE RESCUE. THE scene upon the prairie after the capture of , as it presented itself to Big Foot and his Fro s, was one of animation. e Apache warriors galloped hither and thither in eg. ¥d wild confusion, but very soon the dead and wounded were bound upon the horses which had not strayed far from the battle-field. These, with Mary secured upon the horse of Bear Claw, escorted by some forty warriors, struck up the river, while the remainder of the war-party, a score of those most noted for brave deeds, were picked out by their chief and left behind. No sooner were the main party well started than those who were left behind sprung from their mustangs and seated themselves upon the prairie grass, Bags of dried beef were taken from their sad- dles and they coolly eyed the Rangers, while they broke their fast and allowed their animals to graze the length of their lariats. was very evident to Big Foot and his com- rades that these warriors remained for their especial benefit, and that without doubt they would be attacked the coming night, when their long-range guns could not be brought into use, except at close quarters. The Indians, outnumbering them as they did, would stand a good chance, even without using their usual cunning and stratagem, to kill or capture them all. ig Foot had been sitting sullenly at the foot of a devouring long strings of be- cued-beef, and the other Rangers were also en- gaged in like occupations, for they knew the ne- cessity of husbanding their strength, in order to be able to cope with their dangerous foes, who were so calmly watching them and waiting for darkness. They could easily evade the Indians by cross- ing the river as soon as it became dark, but they knew their friends, who had gone on the trail of Wild Will and Kit, were liable to return, and they were not the kind of men who would leave a way open for the capture of their comrades: and another thing—if the boys did rejoin them they would stand a chance to cut this party of Apaches off from those who had Mary, and thus make it easier to regain the lost girl. As Big Foot swallowed the last bit of food which he could find in his saddle-pockets he pro- duced his pipe, and between the whiffs threw out his opinions and advice in regard to their present surroundings and future movements, “Boys, this are the wust kind of a fix tew be cotched in. The red varmints has split an’ sker- lumped with Mollie, all we care a dang fur; but takin’ keer ter leave behind enuf o’ ther same scum ter keep us frum follerin’. I reckon on Joe, Tom an’ Larry cummin’ in this-a-ways, an’ maybe Kit with ’em; then we can jist h’ist this party outen their mogasons, an’ stand a show to break up ther big funeral what’s on thar hands that’s scooted ahead with Mollie. No use talkin’, arter all this fuss, that air gall has got ter prom’nade ther Medina banks ag’in, free an’ light an’ airy, jist whar she wants ter glide; or this old sculp hangs on a Apache lance. When I’ve got this fur on a thing I ain’t a-goin’ ter wilt until I’ve done ther biz what I started in fer if ther hull danged Comanch’, Apach’ an’ Kiowa tribes stan’ ’cross my trail.” “Big Foot chief talk straight!” exclaimed the Tonkaway. ‘‘Small war-party make big fight —all braves—Raven make Apache fool when night comes—Raven no speak much — think “That’s jist whar I’m drivin’,” returned Jack, in answer to Big Foot, at the same time scratching his head thoughtfully. “Tonk, I’m with yer, old boy, every time. I’m a dan long ways frum bein’ weakened by what scrim- mages we has had on ther trip, so fur, an’ I kal- culate tew handle ther ribbons fur Sappington ag’in, an’ jist make a coach hum over ther Aus- tin road. I’m in tew ther death an’ ’ll shoot till ther last kick, an’ skip lively on my last trip in full harness with ther bit atween my teeth.’ “Waal, pards,” put in Clown, but not in a wen | way, ‘‘as long as I played a lone hand ag’in fifteen of ther same tribe up on ther Pecos, 1 ain’t a-goin’ ter stand back when I’ve got such backers as you are to stand by me.” “J — my last slug on yer all!” announced Big Foot, proudly; ‘an’ when ther next rub comes yer won’t see me sit au’ pe at yer. But, this don’t pay; git yer traps together an’ be ready to slope. Lucky our nags are outen ther sight o’ ther reds. e can jist leave our hats an’ huntin’-shirts on ther bushes kinder nat’ral like an’ scoot fur ther horses. We can cross ther river an’ glide up-stream on t’other side, whar we’ll find some posish as Il give us a show over ther cussed hair-snatchers.” At this moment one of the mustangs in the Apache camp became entangled in the lariat of another animal, and the two, prancing and kick- ing about, drew the attention of the Indians from the Rangers. ‘*Now’s yer time, boys!” exclaimed Big Foot, pee as he tore his buck-skin outer garment off, and ran a piece of wood across the shoul- ders, each end entering the sleeves to the el- bows, then witha longer limb inside the folds, and the sombrero upon the top, he leaned the same against the tree where had been standing. Each of the party except the Tonkaway, who had no clothing to spare, rigged a dummy upon brush or limb, in as natural a position as pos- sible, and all crawled away down to their mus- tangs, which they led to the bank of the river. ere all mounted, and, fording, were soon on the opposite shore, and spurring up the stream, rfectly sheltered from the view of the Apache raves. It took but ashort time for our friends to reach the little motte of bushes where Claw had met his death by the hand of Mary Halliday, and the presence of buzzards over- head perched upon the trees drew the attention of the party immediately. The trail which led into the motte was discov- ered and all rode in, halting on the verge of the ning, inside of which lay the corpse of the manche chief, ; The Rangers looked significantly at each other as the y was brought into view after passing the fringe of brush. Raven sprung from his horse and rolled the | heap !” : Indian over, showing his features with a scowl . of deadly hate still imprinted upon them; the erags wound in the breast, and the scalping- . still clasped with the gripe of death in nd. “That jist knocks anything Iever seen,” said Big Foot, in surprise; “that are ther fust red in this section what ever knifed hisself. I wish it war more fash’nerable among ’em.” The Tonkaway now held up his hand com- manding attention. ni Claw no kill Bear Claw—too much devil—Mary—Rose of Medina—kill when sleep:
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16 —Comanche chief jump a ps apts 5 0 ary run—get horse draw out knife—then die— —ride for friends on prairie—Apache get her.” ‘“Boys!” exclaimed Big Foot, vehemently, “if thar’s a man here now what won’t risk his last ha’r a-tryin’ ter git that gal frum ther In- juns he ought ter be forced ter wear calico ther I tell yer she’s wuth fi’tin’ fur; she’s ther whitest, purtyest gal in Western Tex- rest of his life. as, an’ shall be queen o’ ther Medina in futur’.” ‘She are all o’ that,” returned Jack, ‘‘an’ if we ever git outen this danged scrape w’arin’ our usual ha’r she can ride free on any line I snap a whip fur, bet yer last lingering bit!” ‘* Boys,” said Clown, humorously, him an’ draw they cuss u dark.” ‘*That’s good, Clown!” answered Big Foot; We can leave our nags “ver he’d ain’t holler. right here an’ play tricks on ’em.” © mustangs were secured in a manner that would allow them to feed, and then the Rangers got ready for work. ‘ Now, fu’stly,” commanded Big Foot, ‘‘ scat- yer a quarter a ter clean up-stream, each on mile apart; git all ther dried deadwood an’ git it as near ther edge o’ ther puraria as yer can without bein’ seen. Then when yer are hearin’ an owl hoot ruther nat’ral like, jist yer all light ther fires an’ git back here, then we'll b’ist u Bear Claw whar the cuss can take his last loo on ther ’Paches on ther blooming perairia.” All made their way over the natural bridge which was easily found by following the trail which led to the same from the motte, each wondering in their minds how the frail girl had the nerve to climb the dangerous tree, and pass over the dizzy hight, which they themselves found so difficult. Their admiration of her courage and endur- ance was doubled after they reached the ground on the — side of the stream, and gazed back at the slender network of limbs over which she had made her way unassisted, weakened as she must have been by fasting, loss of sleep, and horrors which would have killed most men. Jack Hodge, Clown and the Tonkaway glided up the river to the several points selected for tho mysterious fires; while Big Foot made pre- parations to start his blaze at the border of the timber. At the hoarse hooting of the owl, the signal agreed upon, each fire was lighted, and the dead w limbs being dry as tinder sent 1p at once a volume of flame some six feet high. It was but a short time before the giant scout was joined by the others, and all crawled up to the verge of the woods and peeped through the nches. The sight that met their view more than re- paid them for their trouble, for the Apache camp was in an uproar. The four fires springing up simultaneously, at arin where they had no idea any humans were ocated, not —~g puzzled them, but they were greatly alarmed. As our friends we through, the Apaches were hurrying hither and thither, gesticulating and Yoga at a great rate. ““Now, Tonk!” exclaimed Big. Foot, a broad n overspreading his features, ‘‘ jist snake yer- self over ther drink, an’ fotch ther extra lariats; drag that are noble red-man down; hitch on ter ther cuss, an’ we’ll drag him across, an’ giv’ him a b’ist right over this fire.” Before the scout had finished speaking Raven had disappeared on his mission, and in a short time he n came among the Rangers, drag- ging the body of Bear Claw, they both being ipping wet. “Take that lariat, Tonk,” ordered Big Foot, ‘tan’ scoot up ther tree, an’ run it round that limb, an’ be re’dy ter h’ist when I give ther word.” The Tonkaway silently and cautiously did as he was directed. Below the limb was a large quite open to the view of the Apaches upon the — When all was ready, and Big Foot was about to give the signal for hoisting up the Indian, the Tonkaway suddenly sprung upright upon the limb and peered through the branches, ut- tering a grunt of surprise and pleasure. “Whar yer drivin’ tonow, Tonk?” cried Jack, noticing the strange manner of Raven, ‘ Keep a stiff hold on yer line, an’ yer best eye on yer leaders. What's a-goin’ on up ther road?” A gesture of caution was made by Raven, who, with a gr n upon his usually stoical countenance, indicated that he was ready for Bear Claw. Slowly the dead warrior was raised and held as high as the — scout could reach; but Ra- ven was not able to hoist the body alone, so Clown had to go to his assistance, By their united exertions, the Comanche chief was placed in position facing outward, and in plain view of the Apaches, Raven secured the slack end of the rope to the trunk of the tree, and followed Clown to the ground, as Big Foot exclaimed: Wild “Will, the Mad Ranc we'll have sum fun with that red. We can use him to advantage now, betiter’n when we war pran- cin’ about full o’ fight; we'll fasten a lariat to i to a limb in sight of them Apaches. I know ther natur’ of ther var- mints; it’ll set ’em thinkin’ so hard that they’ll hate most awful ter cum inter ther bottom arter ‘* Waal, [reckon Bear Claw are aboutas nigh ter heaven as he ever will git.” But his attention was suddenly drawn from the swinging corpse by a low laugh which pro- ceeded from the lips of the Tonkaway, which so surprised him, and his comrades, that they gazed at their Indian friend in silent astonish- ra ae for they never had heard him laugh be- ore. Raven stood before them with folded arms, the laugh changed to. a smile, the smile to a look of exultant ferocity, such as they had noticed upon him previous to or in the midst of a des- perate fight. ‘* Are yer gittin’ iuny, Tonk?” asked Big Foot, eying the Indian closely. ‘““No—Raven no wild—Raven heap glad— Apache braves will sing death-songs—no see squaws more—Raven get heap p—Raven heap talk for white scouts—Raven eyes sharp.” Then pointing, the Tonkaway designated a north-west direction, saying: ** Joe, Tom, Larry—ride fast. Here,” point- ing west, ‘‘Wild Will—ride faster. ere,” pointing south, “ le Eye—ride fast, too— Apache look at fire—look at Bear Claw—no see white scouts—heap fun—heap scalps—fore dark comes—we move quick—get horses—then ready when time comes—Apache no warrior—they squaws—know nothing.” Again the low, unnatural laugh, more strange coming from one who never indulged in mirth, broke from the lips of the Tonkaway. The Rangers remained a moment silent from the veriest astonishment and gratification; then they wrung the hand of Raven, and sprung to thelr look-out at the verge of the timber. The Apaches were gazing with superstitious awe at the strange fires and the swaying corpse; their whole attention was directed in that direc- tion, and they bad not as yet observed the also very strange sight behind them, of two single men coming like the wind toward them, and three more from another direction. Big Foot crawled back away from the border of the woods, motioning his comrades to his side in a humid and excited way, and said: ‘Cum on, an’ git fur ther horses; every- thing’s cummin’ out hunk. Hurrah fur our pards! We must be ready to take a hand!” The whole of the party made fast time for the mustangs, eager to be in at the grand wind-up in Ueckaire the Indian > the braves seem to be not only greatly mystified at the unaccountable sights that they see in the river bottom, but their faces show that they attribute the fires, and swinging corpse to supernatural causes, as or do rhage they cannot account for. ey now turn their gaze toward the point where the Texans had been, and see plainly that their foes had no hand in the strange ms seme ance, for Big Foot and his party having galloped down beneath the friendly screen of the trees, have resumed their clothing, and taken their former position, leaving their mustangs fully equipped, ready for use. Big Foot and his comrades could now easily watch the Apaches, and also have a plain view of their several friends, who were coming at great speed over the prairies, toward the band of Apache braves, Full a mile nearer the Indians, than Reckless Joe and his companions, rode the Red Trailer. He was mounted upon a wild mustang, which he had in some manner captured, and had se- cured the saddle and bridle from his dead horse, His appearance was more frightful than ever; his clothing was torn in shreds from ridin his half-subdued horse through the brush, an his limbs were scratched and bleeding from the same cause. His wild, piercing eyes were riveted on the ae camp, and with insane cunning, he was ilent, seeming to know that his y would alarm his enemies, who were not aware of his approach, he Indians still with wonder and con- cern upon the bewildering sights amid the bot- tom-timber, The long soft upon the prairie seryed to deaden the sound of the hoofs of the mustang ridden by the madman; but as he came on to within a quarter of a mile, their experienced ears detected his approach, and instantly all the Indians turned to the new wonder—of a single white man charging madly upon them. ey instinctively coiled up their lariats, but, not fearing any harm from a single horseman, they did not mount. A number drew their bows for use, and others poised their lances; but when the Red Trailer came near enough for them to observe closel is appearance, the arms were lowered, and all gazed in supersti- tious awe and dread at the new om bey LE When the madman saw that he was observed, his horrible yells filled the air, and his mustang fairly seemed to fly, cove with foam and oiMaking directly into the midst of the Apack yin e midst of the Apaches, they parted and shrunk back in consternation at the demented man now rushing upon them ingle-handed. strange and unaccountable had been the mysterious fires and the swinging corpse, that the sight of this unearthly figure was instantly hero. connected with them, by the Indians, and they, ae that the Evil Spirit had certai pounced upon them, became powerless, until the revolver of the madman sent death amid their crowded ranks; and before they could act on the defensive several had gone to answer for some of their bloody deeds, Will emptied his six-shooter, then, being without a weapon, he made his frightened mus- tang plunge in among the terrified braves, wrenched a lance from one and impaled another, who was just drawing an arrow to shoot him at close range; then, reaching down from his sad- dle, he, with the strength of a giant, seized the Apache chief, Holding him above his head, per- fectly powerless from being in the grasp of such a being, the wild rider drove spurs into his mus- tang, who plunged wildly, snorting with fear, and sprung clear of the war-party, and, un- harmed, bounded down the river, disappearing beneath the branches below the point where the Rangers, under Big Foot, were waiting. With wild shouts the Rangers then mounted their horses and stood ready for a charge upon the demoralized Indians. Instantly after the disappearance of Red Trailer with their chief, the Apaches sprung upon their steeds, and in a huddled mass, uncer- tain what to do, gazed about them. To the north-west on came Joe, Tom and Larry, their Sharp’s rifles at a ready, and on came Kit in a thundering gallop on his roan prairie stallion, his hair flying in the wind, and without a hat, having something of the same appearance as the madman, and believed by the Indians to be another evil-spirit. From the river charged Big Foot, Jack, Clown and the Tonkaway. There was a. moment of indecision as the Apaches glanced, in increased amazement, at the foes by which they were beset; then, with a fierce yell of desperation, they charged toward the three rangers coming from the north-west, ——— to cut them down rather than meet it, the supposed counterpart of Wild Will, to the south. But as soon as Reckless Joe and his two com- rades saw the Indians coming toward them, they halted and let fly with their rifles, giving them three ag one after another in quick succes- sion, which caused such disorder that before they recovered, Kit, with his revolver, dashed entirely through their ranks, and afterward the bal's from the party headed by Big Foot in their rear, cut them down like reeds. Now came the grand charge of all. Kit turn- ed his stallion, which had carried him some dis- tance away, and headed again toward the Apaches at the same time that Reckless Joe’s Swen from one side, and Big Foot’s band from he other, with their deadly revolvers came down upon the doomed reds like an avalanche, ‘| and poured in lead like hail in a norther. Texan yells, war-whoops and death-how]s to- ther with death-songs of wounded braves; the sharp volleys of revolvers; the twang of bow- strings, and hissing of arrows and bullets strangely and horribly blended together. As the last death-yeil broke on the air, as the last Apache gasped away his life, and while those who had been 50 et rted were grasping each other’s hands, Wild Will’s yell once more upon the prairie air, and he went thundering past toward the north, holding the Apache chief up before him. The chief gave a horrified look at the dead braves, lying*in one ty ge pile on the lain; another of intense hate at the Texans; be this was changed again to horror as the Re Trailer’s — burst forth, and he was borne away, he knew not where, and by—he knew not what; man or devil. CHAPTER XXII. POOR TONK! THE reunited Rangers leaned upon their rifles, panting with exertion and excitement occa- sioned by the hard fighting of the last few minutes. They in wonder at Wild Will, whose mustang plunged madly over the prairie, the piercing yells of the crazy man at intervals reaching their ears, and they could see the long, gaudy-colored eagle-feathers of the Apache chief flying in the breeze, as the woodman would raise him above his head then fold the terrified eu in his arms, asa child would play with a doll. It was a most wonderful sight to those who had known Will Halliday when he was a sane man, surrounded by his happy family: and each and every one of the little band of heroes felt their hate for the Indian murderers increase tenfold after witnessing the wreck which grief had caused. The attention of the Rangers was drawn back to their own vicinity by a wild, low chant Sage all recognized as the death-song of an In- rave, This started them, as they had supposed all the Apaches were dead. Their my abe was turned to the deepest en upon discovering that the death-song came the lips of one whom they all loved asa brother. It was Raven, the Tonkaway, whose absence os
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Wild W eee ee ee from their midst had not until this time been | Big Foot seated near the dead Raven, and after noti they were gone the giant scout indulged ina Not ten feet from the main mass of the slain, | quiet soliloquy: seated upon the pena and leaning against the dead body of his mustang, with three Apache braves, slain by his hand, stretched lifeless be- fore him, was the faithful Tonkaway, the blood flowing from a dozen wounds. With his last strength he had succeeded in scalping his. foes, and held the dripping tro- phies in one hand, while he pressed a bunch of soft grass over what he knew was his death- wound. 4 There was a look of exultation in his eyes, as, with a weuk voice, he recounted the valorous deeds he had performed in the death-chant of his tribe. * Instantly after the Rangers had discovered the situation of the Tonkaway, they sprung, as one man, to hisside, hurling the dead Apaches away and kneeling beside him. Through ong years of service as a scout, Raven had endeared himself to them all, and served most faithfully Sam Houston, the “Great White Chief of Texas.” The lips and eyelids of brave men, unused to show emotion, quivered, as the feeble tones % the Tonkaway floated in the blood-tainted t The eyes of Raven were fixed upon the sky above, as if to catch a view of the unknown world, whose mysteries were soon to be unvail- to him. The Rangers maintained a respectful silence until the death-song ended, and the eyes of Ra- ven ran slowly around the circle, scanning their well-known A smile of pride and satisfaction overspread his features as each scout pressed his hand, and Big Foot held a gourd of water to his parched lips, which quivered with an agony his tongue was too proud to tell of. After the draught of water was taken the dying warrior’s face brightened, and he ad- ed the scouts, but in a very feeble voice: “ Warriors of the Star-land—Raven has made his last trail—the Great Spirit call him—when He call red or white they must go—Raven fight heap hard for Texas—you will speak to Placido, my chief—tell him Raven die with scalps in hand—that he sent many Apache on dark trail before him—tell Houston, White Chief of Texas—Raven clean trail and true tongue—fol- low ebecnes to the North—Mary will be free— she will be squaw of Eagle PA Ne all great “‘waves—Raven heap proud look in your eyes ad die—you will bury Raven—no want Apache r Comanche to get scalp.—Look!—the war- iors of my tribe come in the air—they will cake Raven over the dark trail to the Great Spirit—” The Fptkaway here springing to his feet, gazed above at those things pictured to him by approaching death, his arms uplifted as if beg- Gaesipent taser eae eee aa and tuft o. e e : the death war-whoop Srore from his lips, as a fountain of crimson gore burst from the ghast- Vy wound in his breast, and Raven fell into @ many outstretched arms of the Rangers—a co: They laid the dead hero tenderly upon the prairie flowers, while many a tear was brushed awa by buckskin sleeves. ¢ ntlemen!” exclaimed Kit, with deep emo- tion, “ there ap by a white man witha skin. He has lost his life in our service, and if I ever forget him may I be forgotten by those who owe me friendship. He was always faithful, and true as steel. I never knew him to tell a lie, and he never stopped to count fatigue, suf- fering from hunger or thirst, or to consider whether it was a long or short trail he started ‘on when his services were asked. He was the most unselfish man, red or white, that I ever had the fortune to meet. Men talk of the Indians as if they were all alike, Was there anything in the character of Raven to be compared with those Apache car- rion there? He was as far above them as George Washington was above an African lope : ‘I thank God, boys, that I have the pleasure of meeting ie again in this life, I ran a slim chance for it, as you know. I regret more than words can tell the death of our noble red friend and, as much as I hate to linger on this trail, f say we will to give him the honors of burial = en as if he was Governor of the Lone Star “ Kit!” exclaimed Big Foot, sadly, “if yer has got through, Ill site’ a tae verti, ‘You can talk a danged site better’n I can, I knows, but I don’t reckon-yer can feel wuss in i yer heart ’n I do, I feels squeamish an’ took * down bad, fur I counted on ther Tonk heavy fur ther work ahead on this trail. I know _ when I heard ther Tonk’s laugh in ther bottom, pone, that sumthin’ ware goin’ ag’in’ us. ys, let’s git fur ther bottom an’ find sum grub o’ sum kind. Take my nag, Joe, an’ all on y head. I'll tote Raven along my- self; he shall go on ther long trail to t’other world with plenty of feed and arms in his hand, ist as he alwis told me ter fix him, if I was round when he lost his grip,” The Rangers procevde:l to the river, leaving | | chances “Reckon the Tonk ’ll go ter ther white man’s heaven fur sure. I sha’n’t be at all squeamish about mixin’ with his sort, if he duz. I’m in hopes 0’ gittin’ thar when my time comes, fur T’ve seen ’nuf of t’other place here. Goin’ ter church reg’lar may make a man angelic-like, an’ fit tew pass into kingdom-cum, an’ look ther doorkeeper squar’ in ther eye, without flinchin’ or winkin’, but I doubts it muchly, fur I know a heap 0’ gospel-slingers an’ re’dy-made Chris- tians what I w’uldn’t trust ther lingth uv a lariat. We don’t, sum on us, know nothin’ about it, Raven, but if yer go ther same trail with them cussed Apache skum, I says thin ain’t strai’t, an’ squar’, an’ I’ve got enuf confe- dence in ther Great Spirit, what made us all, Rocky Mount’ins counted in, ter think ’tain’t so; fur yer dun yer best what yer knowed, an that’s all any on us can slide in on. Tonk, I reckon yer’ll be wa’tin’ fur me when I[ cum, whichever place I go, fur I don’t brag on bein better’n you was.” Big Foot now took the body of Raven up ten- derly in his arms, and started on & quick pace toward the river, giving a deep scowl of hatred as he passed through the dead Apaches which covered the ground. The Rangers had already started a fire, and each one was occupied in some self-imposed duty, connected with the preparation of food and the care of the horses. Two dressed deer were Pi ey Semone the branches of a post-oak, shot as the gers had entered the bottom-timber, as the deer were ba ae on the opposite bank of the river. Big Foot left the body of Raven beneath the shade of the oaks near the border of the prairie and oes his comrades, bringing an armful of deadwood for the camp-fire. ‘Waal, boys,” said the giant scout, ‘‘ yer has got thin worked up lively, an’ I reckon thar’s or a squar’ feed, what we needs bad. Kit, yer lookin’ blue. Don’t reckon we’ll lose much time ’round here, then we'll jist hump oursel’s arter Mollie.” “Wallace,” returned Kit, ‘I have, durin, the excitement of the fight, the reap nce 0 Wild Will, and the death of the Tonkaway, been forced to hold my feelings and tongue un- der control, but now I must ask you clearly and a bas ere is Mary?” “Waal, bout Mollie: Jack, Clown an’ m self, with ther help o’ ther Tonk, got on her trail, an ware closin’ in on ther river here, when them cussed smoky-hided Apaches closed in on us. We had a hot time fur a spell, but cut our way tew timber, an’ while we ware ing breath, an’ wipin’ out our Sharps’, who sh’u’d cum on ther jump, ridin’ Bear Claw’s nag, but our Mollie. As we arterwards found out by clear sign, she killed ther cuss herself, an’ hearin’ our shooters bark she jumped his mustang an’ ‘inted fur our crowd, but ther nag war wild ur her, an’ the ’Paches just gobbled her up right afore our peepers, an’ we couldn’t sling a shot nor do nothing. ey split, an’ sum took Mcllie, but I reckon we’ve got ther crowd what'll make ’em scratch dirt.” “How did Mary look when you saw her?” asked Kit; ‘‘and do you think they will treat her as as the Comanches? I ow them well enough, but I like to have the opinion of others.” Jack Hodge now came up from the river, where the boys were having a bath, and ex- claimed: Halloo, Kit! haven’t had time ter blow my horn at yer yit! How the dickens did yer git outen ther river, whar Will an’ ther horse went over with yer? Reckon yer don’t care much for a bath since yer took that twenty-foot plunge! Whar did yer light out fur, that we didn’t raise yer? We shot a panther thar! and should ’a’ shone you’d ’a’ hearn our rifles?” “T snared a mustang,” answered Kit, “and made a clean streak down have left some time before you boys arrived. I do not remember anything after Will made the rush into the Indians; next I knew, I found my- self laying across Will’s dead horse, on the bank of the river. Will came up, shortly after I re- turned to my gore Mine cooked some horse- m the river. i must meat for me. I left aslee’ by the fire,” “ Phat yer thinks o’ that Misther Jack?” ex- claimed , standing near; ‘‘I towld yees I seen the divil, but pon me soul I thought he was afther bain dead; an’ , as I seen him on ther praria beyond, he was more like a irit than a human, an’ I’m thinkin’ the Evil One himself has enlisted him! Be the powers 0’ wter but it’s glad I am to see you, Misther ig Fut! Shure I was lost intirely away frum ye. I ye pardon, Misther Kit, but are yees any relative to the wild man on the horse? ‘He is no relative of mine, Larry,” answered Kit, “but I nope he will be sometime. You would think bet r of him had you known him before the murder of his family, I know that an Irishman generally says what is in his mind, and have no hard feelings toward you for your expressing yourself in regard to Mr. Halliday, or the Red Trailer, as the boys now call him; and I think it isa name well won, My mother ill, the Mad Ranchero. 17 was Irish, God bless her, and my heart is warm toward all who are from the same old sod. wire me your hand, Larry; we shall be friends, ow. “God be wid ye!” exclaimed Larry, with satisfaction beaming from every feature as he grasped the hand of Kit. ‘‘Sure, ’pon me soul, is a happy day fur me, and the grass looks graner, an’ the sun shines brighter mpg ol a grip at an Irish hand, avin ef there is Yankee blud mixed wid that same.” “*Look a-here, oh OH inter ruppen Tom Clark, ‘how duz yer know but what that panther was Irish? I reckon he cum to ther scratch ’bout as ame as John Morrissey ever did, an’ got his ck up "bout as quick; but I'll bet yer, boys, Aaney, ie beat him gay on ther dive—” n om lay back and roared with laughter. A scowl of wrath crept over ’s facc, but it turned to a smile, as Tom uttered the last por- tion of his remark. “‘ Shure, Misther Tom,” said Larry, ‘ I’m glad ye are afther sp’akin’ about that same big cat, for I’m wantin’ ter know if thar bees many ev them same hairy divels around this place, fur *tisn’t ofthen I’d loike to mate wid’em. I can’t say I loike the look of ther eyes; the one Mis- ther Big Fut hav’ at his ranch tied up has a look about him what makes me think of the Evil One hissilf.” “Gentlemen,” said Reckless Joe, as he ap- = the circle of Rangers, ‘‘why dost wag hy tongues in idle prattlings when there is that in ‘mn that will give your jaws more agree- able and profitable satisfaction? Here, beneath the greenwood trees, is spread a feast such as ge might well covet; and in such quantities that even famished men like you can satisfy ourselves. Come and recuperate your ex- austed systems, for time waits for no man.” The Rangers needed no second invitation, and all were soon seated around upon the mossy banks, near the fire, to partake of venison steaks broiled to a golden brown by Clown, hard bis- cuits and coffee—the latter prepared by Reck- less Joe, who prided himself in that particular and most essential beverage of the prairies. How much they missed the presence of Raven at the feast was plainly seen, as they often cast mournful glances toward the bank upon which his mutilated body lay, cold in death; but men so situated, and so often brought face to face with death, not knowing, when they lay down upon the plain to sleep, if they will ever awaken in this world, do not harbor gloomy thoughts or encourage them in others by speaking too often of those who have been suddenly taken from their circle by death, although their grief is ape as deep as with those in other walks of life who make a greater show of it under the same circumstances. CHAPTER XXIII. ON TRAIL AGAIN. AFTER the Rangers had satisfied their hunger, was sent down the river to head the mus- tangs up-stream, as the animals had been al- lowed free range; for no danger was appre- hended at this point after the fighting so near their camp. It was not ten minutes after the Irishman had left the camp, and all were seated enjoying their pipes, when they were brought to their feet b a series of yells, so strange and unusual to all, except Joe and Tom, that they gazed in wonder and apprehension down the river, from which point the strange sounds proceeded. They could see some distance, but brush waist igh covered the space between the oaks, e Rangers had not long to look, for soon Larry, without his hat, and eyes glaring with terror, was observed m leaps and plunges through the brush like, as Tom remarked, “a jack-rabbit on the wing.” came Larry, at intervals jerking his head around, and glancing over his shoulders as if — posh on phantom by in = of him. very ger, except Tom and Joe, sprung for their rifles, the two latter rolling on the grass, convulsed with laughter, much to the as ange Af Tove others, wre at , torn, bi , panting, and horror-struck, bounded into camp and fell flat upon the pons at_the feet of Kit; then turn- ing over, he gazed down the river and up into the trees above his head. “What in thunder’n litenin’s ther row now, ”” exclaimed Big Foot, ‘‘ Hav’ ther reds n agin on us? Reckon ther country’s full 8. t yerself,” burst from Tom, nearly from laughter; ‘he’s oar got up a race with a panther, or sumthin o’ that sort,” Kit took the Irishman by the collar and raised ag on his feet; pe vee et ras were stand- g upon Larry’s forehead, and his eyes were Sree ee Ca oa ere, ,” sail it, ‘ ak quick; what have you seen down the chook —tatiasit If so, spit it out right here and no foolishness,” ‘“*Howly Mother 0’ Moses! God save us a an’ stand betune us an’ all harum,” u Larry, still gazing up amid the bran of the trees; but sofing nothing, and having his friends about him, he e composed, an ke more to the point, ‘‘ Powers o’ pewther, I don’t at) eee oe
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nd 18 see him now,b’ys. Shure I’m not backward, but alwis to the fore fightin’ the red_h’athen whin they cums dacent an’ human loike upon foot. or horseback, but whin they bees so thick they flies in the air, devilish in the extrame, I can’t. be afther standin’ that, b’ys.” “What do you mean?’ demanded Kit; are you getting erazy, as you thought likely a while of “Crazy is it?’ answered Larry, trembling in every limb. ‘‘Shure I’m not far frum that same. Anuther day loike this w’u’d make a wild man ev me, God save me!” Atthis moment Larry caught sight of Tom and Joe laughing immoderately, which mad- dened him, and he burst out again: “Yees thinks it’s nothin’ to, seo slathers 0’ wild divels av Injuns flying in the air, paint feathers, an’ all, and them same makin’ grabs a me wid thar arms.” Clown, who had grasped -his rifle at Larry’s first yell, and sprung down the river, now re- turned, a broad grin upon his usually sober countenance, and explained ‘the cause of the Irishman’s fright. “Yer see, boys, we slung Bear Claw up a limb so the reds c’u’d see him, an’ ther breeze has. set ther cuss a-whirlin’ round. He looks rather out of place, an’ [ has ter g’in in myself that he w’u’d giv’ ’most any one a start what didn’t know he war there, an’ cumin’ on him suddent like as Lahey Haven All hands joined in the laugh at Larry, who was very much offended. **Yees can all laugh as much as ye hav’ a maind, but divila one av ye but w’u’d’a’ run. I’m rememberin’ a time whin, big scouts as yees are, ye ware afther tryin’ to shoot Injuns \, hat was.as dead as Biddy ye pig.” “‘ Larry,” said Tom, ‘‘I left my canteen out on ther perrara, whar we had ther fight* itlays near them dead Apaches. If yer’ll £0 an’ git it fur me, I'll giv’ yer a plug 0’ terbac’.” ‘Shure, I'd loike to oblidge yer, Mister Tom, but ef I never smoke a pipe ag’in—be gripes, ef ye’d give me the hull Shtate of Taxus, an’ ’twas all red solid gould, I’d not go fur yer cantheen. pee be saying—I don’t want nothin’ to do wid dead, folks.” o “Boys!” exclaimed Big Foot, as he returned his pipe to his belt-pouch, ‘‘I reckon we’d better hustle round, fur Kit are anxious ter git on ther trail, an’ I don’t know of any cn us but what’s in same box, Now. yonder’s a place ter lay Raven, an’ a tall percon fur a moniment. Claw lout ther sand, boys, an’ make a hole, an’ Pll go the Ton fo the Rangers all set to work immediately, and scooped out a grave in the spot designated— Larry seated some distance away, smoking and muttering to himself. Big Foot soon returned with the body of Ra- ven, which was rolled. up in a blanket, together with his knife, revolver, and an Apache bow with a quiver of arrows; there was also a haunch of venison laid by the side of the Indian in the grave, as he had often requested should be done, if he lost his life while with the Ran- gers. Kit was again called u for a prayer, and with uncovered heads, bowed with respectful attention and sincere grief, these sons of the praise listened, to the words which fell from e lips. of their brother scout, until he ended; then five revolvers were fired over the grave. All fired at the same time, the reports echo- ing up and down the river, causing the owls to fla’ their wings in fear, and the coyotes to slink 1 deeper into their hiding-places. Ech Ranger placed a bouquet of prairie flowers upon the breast of their respected friend and red brother; then the loose sand was pushed into the grave, and leaves scattered over it, making it look the same as the ground around it, so that no one, except upon close scrutiny, could detect that the ground had been dis- bed. The Rangers scattered here and there, catch- ing their horses, and soon all were in the saddle, Big Foot and Kit took the lead. They glided t the grave of the Tonkaway, out of the bot- m timber into the open plain; here apt spur- red their mustangs into a gallop up the I taken by the Apaches who held Mary captive. Each Ranger was more or less wounded, but no word of complaint escaped their lips as they silently loped over the prairie, almost broken down by over-exertion, want of sleep and pain- ful wounds—riding on, spurring on, perhaps to death by lingering torture. But the knowledge that a beautiful girl, who, {through grief, pain and privation, had shown a heroism worthy of a queen, was a captive among the butchers of the prairies, kept them from giving a thought to their own ri gh and bodily weakness, and their powerful wi took them on the path of vengeance to the res- cue of virtue from worse than death. CHAPTER XXIV. THE CAVE OF DEATH. ypz died in the breast of r Mary, as, ean fast to the horse of the deed Grenatiais hief, surrounded Apache braves in their hidecus war-paint, pA Whe berme avay from the Nee ee ee ee ee ee ee ee * Wild Will, the Mad Ranchero. — scene of the fight and her friends with the speed of the wind. She noticed that a part of the Indians had been left behind, and had no doubt it was for the purpose of killing or capturing her friends, whom she had recognized from the battle- field. Although she had great respect for their bravery, and considered Big Foot Wallace al- most invincible as an Indian-fighter, she hardly dared to cherish the hope that they would be able to cope successfully with so formidable a force as had been left behind. She knew that Kit was not prong the Ran- gers, and this troubled her more than. her. capti- vity, for she had passed through so much of late that she thought she would be willing to die, if she could only see him once more; but they were now taking her further and further away from the settlements, and Mary realized that every bound of her mustang made her rescue more doubtful and a life of misery and degradation more certain. Was her beauty a blessing or a curse to her? This thought passed through her mind often, ren that, had she been old and ill-favored her scalp would have hung at an Indian’s bel ere this; but as it was, every savage chief she had come in contact with, cast looks of admira- tion at her, and one had_lost his honor and his life by being captivated by her beauty. This be had told her himself, and now she was to listen again to the tale from lips to which soft words were strangers. War Eagle, the Apache chief, who had been riding near and observing her, suddenly urged his horse alongside of hers, and taking the lariat which was attached to her animal, caused both horses to spring away ahead of the party. Mary cast her eyes at the chief in a side glance, and observed that he was’ finely molded, with far less of the hideous in his face than any In- dian she had ever seen. He was tall and slender, and a graceful horse- man; his features were very regular for an In- dian, and she also noticed that his war-dress was beautifully decorated with fancy bead- work, while a red silk sash was worn about his waist in the style of the Rio Grande Mexicans. Both mustangs went away over the prairie far ahead of the war-party; then the Apache chief leaned over from his saddle and cut the thongs which bound the hands of the captive, who gave him a look of thanks, for she was suf- fering greatly from the cruel manner she had been secured, as her wrists were sore from the same torture she had endured at the hands of the Comanches. The thankful looks of Mary perhaps en- couraged the chief, for he had not’ opened his lips; but now the words sprung from his mouth like arrows shot from his bow: ‘*Look!” exclaimed the chief, proudly point- ing back to his braves; ‘‘ War Eagle great chief! lodge-pole bends low with scalps. Look!” said he, with the bearing and tone of a king, as he waved his hand and directed her view over the prairies, which stretched away to the hori- zon; “* War ap rides where he wants—no man dare say stop! When War Eagle speak, buffalo come fast into hunting-grounds of his people—they are never hungry—the Pecos is never dry—the bear, the antelope and deer all stop when War Eagle draws bow—the birds sing sweet—flowers bloom always about his lodge—but it is empty when he is on war-party —all is still in his buffalo-skin house—it shall be so ho more—the white flower of the pale-faces shall be his squaaw—her eyes shall weep when he leaves his nie for war—War Eagle heart bi and warm—the Prairie Flower shall have res there—her voice will be sweet to his ears. Let Prairie Flower speak: will she be squaw of War Eagle, or will she sing her death-song in the torture-fire when the warriors call for her blood?” “The daughter of a pale-face,” answered Mary, ‘‘thanks the red-man for his kindness; but the Great Spirit,” and she raised her white delicate arms heavenward, “has told her she must not mate with those who have spilt the blood of her family. Prairie Flower, as you call me, can wither and die; you can cast her into the torture-fire; but never again will your bow. shoot straight; your war-cries shall be weak as an infant’s wail; and your people. will droop and die, like the old leayes upon the tree, Death and dishonor follow the trail of Prairie Flower. When the sun came up from the plain this morning she was the captive of Bear Claw the Comanche chief; this is his mus- tang!” A guttural ‘“‘Ugh!” came from_ the Apache chief’s lips at the mention of Bear Claw, followed by a scowl of intense hatred; but he waved Mary to gc on. “She was a captive to the Comanche chief, now she is in the power of War Eagle, and Bear Claw has gone to the happy hunting-grounds of his tribe; his death-yell shook the leaves on the banks of the Guada me “ As Mary spoke the last words in an exultant voice, War Eagle jerked the lariats bag band both mustangs upon their haunches; and lea to the ground he carefully examined the in saddle and bridle of the horse upon which Mary was borne, His features, so recently disfigured by a hide- ous scowl, now assumed a gratified expression: “Who kill Bear Claw?” asked War Eagle, ex- ultantly. Mary, who was in such a state of desperation at being recaptured, regardless of consequences —for she was ignorant of the fact that the Co- manches and Apaches were at war with each other—leaned toward the chief, and with a voice, in which were blended the bravado and fe-rlessness so much admired and respected by all Indian tribes, she answered: “Prairie Flower! with the strength given her by the Great Spirit!” The Apache chief gazed at the young girl in silent wonder and admiration. Proud and war- like as he was he seemed to recognize her as a m his mustang to face his ap- iercing m ina ba sh ar Eagle then sprung u again, and, turning the anim proaching war-party, he gave a long, yell that brought his braves andthe’ moment’s time. Running his eyes around eg those who had followed him in many a wild fie) t, he waved his hand over toward his fair captive, drawing their attention to her, “Warriors of the Apaches—listen to the words of your chief—keep them in your ears, Look!— the white squaw is a great warrior—she is brave as the bear of the mountains—cun- ning as the panther of the Pecos—she has killed the great war-chief of the Comanches—her knife is red with the blood of the enemy of our tribe —Bear Claw has gone to the land beyond the moon—she has killed the enemy of War Eagle —she shall be queen of our tribe—she shall keep warm and welcome the lodge of your chief. War rey fa has spoken—he who harms Prairie Flower dies the death of a OOP The Indians gazed upon Mary with looks of amazement not unmixed with awe, for they knew their chief had positive proof of what he had asserted, Mary was now the center of attraction as she rode by the side of War Eagle, as much ‘sur- rised ‘as the Indians at the turn affairs had She felt ShEt by this ch i feeling e felt that by this change in their toward her she would be treated well, mf also, that she would have more chances to es- cape. Two days before she would have been fright- ened terribly at the sight of an Indian; now she rode among a large war-party of the most mur- derous and revengeful tribe upon the American continent almost unconcerned. The _ horrible massacre of her family was con- tinually before her eyes, but her great grief and deep hatred of her captors were kept with- in bounds, and her brain was ever active, no- ticing the course taken by them and the move- ments of the Indians, Had it not been for the knowledge that Kit loved her, and that her poor father roamed the plains a raving maniac, she would not have cared to live, and would have welcomed dea in any form, asa mercy. felt that Go would, as He had so far, preserve her from harm, and that He would through His infinite mercy find some way of releasing her from her ene- mies, and restore her to her lover. Her thoughts and her dreams now would be of her father and Kit; she must live—she must es- ca Ber faith was a Nig 2 and she had great hive of it in the situation in which she was placed. She felt that, in a day, she had changed from a timid girl to a resolute woman, who would al- low nothing, however discouraging, to break her spirit. ee Seete The Apaches, who had been traveling at great speed, now turned their course from west to north, and struck in among the hills near the source of the Guadalupe, which, at this point, was only a small stream, f Here, by the banks of this creek, Mary was left with asmall guard, while the main body of the braves, with War Ragle in the lead, taking with them their dead, bound upon musta: ng, proceeded through the thick woods up the side of a range of hills, until they came to a dense almost impenetrable thicket; but they were well acquainted with the ground, as on the west side of the thicket they followed each other u a narrow trail, which ran directly toa precip tous wall of rock, the base of which was shaded by overhanging trees and vines, to such an ex- tent that it was dark and somber asa tomb. And such it proved to be, for War Eagle pot ha from his mustang at the entrance of an extensive cave, and motioned those who had the dead warriors in charge to ride forward, Horse after horse, with its fearfully ghastly load, was led into the cave, and a large fire was soon burning inside to light up the rocky cham- ber of death. , The animals were led along by the wall of the cave, Their masters who had ridden them in the wild charge, with fierce, reven ] war- cries, were now cold in death, bound to the sad Lamang lips mute, their war-paint a horrible mockery. The "Batied leaped and crackled in forked points, flaring here and there, ir the damp, shivering air; the crystal stalaetites hanging
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Wi —— from the vaulted roof in solid, but ceful pendants, threw back ten thousand g ttering rays, and turned the gloomy chamber into a diamond-studded cathedral. Nature’s church, with Nature’s children for eee their creed, their heaven reached only through rivers of blood of their own shedding, their positions, station and re- ward in this world and the next, depending oe on the number of sca'ps which hung from belt or lodge-pole. All along the side of the cavern in single file, near the dripping wall, were ranged the mus- tangs ‘and’ théir dead riders, the sightless eye- balls of the latter sending out a stony, vacant glare, which, as the firelight pe pe upon them set in the horrible framework of war-paint and flaunting feathers, presented a dreadful ' pic- ture, About the fire, surrounding it and their chief, were the living braves, gazing at their dead brothers with a calmness and unconcern devoid of all grief. Being killed in battle was the highest and most honorable death they could die; then why should they mourn? Suddenly War Eagle stalked from the fire to- ward the dead braves, and, standing firm asa rock between them and the fire, he threw up his arms as if calling the attention of the dead to himself and addressed them: ‘Brothers! Apache braves! Warriors of the Pecos! War Eagle isno more your chief— the Great Spirit has called you to the prairies beyond the moon—it is a long trail—you cannot walk—War Eagle knows you wait for your a a a bows, lances, knives are with you—your trail may be filled with enemies— meat of the deer shall be ber et ee must not weaken and faint—you will see no game upon the long, dark trail. We will feed your squaws—we will wipe the tears from their eyes. Brothers! War Eagile’says farewell, but he will ye area before many moons, he feels it in his ea As War: Eagle ceased speaking, a score of dark forms sprung past him in the firelight, and stationed themselves within ten feet of the mus- tangs and dead braves. A score of arrows were fitted to bowstrings, and eich warrior, with his left foot forward and age leaning back, braced by his right, drew the eadly bow until the feathered shafts touched their shoulders. The aon twanged, the arrows cut the air, and with dull thuds were buried feather-dee» in the -vitals-of the devoted mustangs who had been selected to carry their dead masters on the ' trail of death. Long, horrible screams of agony sprung from the poor suffering steeds, as they reared, plunged, staggered and the hot blood nor 3 in oventyy Cites ware | ee ere wan to- g @ mourn eath-song, with the dreadful scene of blood Seiten teenie Horses and dead sanguine flood, a had spattered the a n evi direction. e shrieks, plu meabe and of dyin steeds, mingled with the low guttural chant of Wasdilon) os deeth tutaneegemee rete was silent as dea at Jeweled-walled cathe- dral, carpeted with: blood. The flickering flames were quenched by the fast-flowing gore, and darkness shut out the horrible scene forever: CHAPTER XXv. THE WARNING. AFTER the return of War Eagle and his band from the cave of death, the m were all herded under a strong guard where the animals could graze until darkness set in, and a number of braves were sent out to shoot the game neces- sary for the evening and morn‘ng meals, ar Hagle had no fears ot an attack, not thinking: that there were any whites in the vicinity except the small party who had been left under the espionage of his braves down the Guadalupe, and he was confident they would be easily overpowered, and either killed or taken captive, before morning, by the portion of his wapaney. Jeft for that purpose. War Eagle was well aware that his encamp- ment was within twenty miles of Camp Verde, but-had no fears from that quarter, for he knew there were but a few infan soldiers at that A small bower, made from green branches en- twined together, had been erected by order of ithe chief for Mary; and she sat inside without ps, Bee although she noticed that some of the Indians were constantly near her shelter, and that they watched her every motion, This she attributed to their curiosity more than to any suspicion on their part t she would attempt an ee The notoriety she had gained by the killing of Bear Claw caused the Indians to show her dou- fem the attention they would to anordinary cap- ve. A quantity of moss had been collected, and with a blanket spread over this, formed an easy couch, and was glad to relieve her tired and weary limbs by resting on it, Id Will, the Mad Ranchero. Years seemed to have passed since the fear- ful massacre of her family, and she tried to s¢hool her mind to think only of the living. That Kit would follow the Apaches as long as he saw any hope, she was confident; and she had no idea that her father would stray away from his ruined ranch. She had heard his fearful yells when charging into the Comanche camp, and she reasoned that if he had been possessed of his senses, he would have been the first 4o try and rescue her. While her thoughts ran on in this strain, the sun slowly sunk in the west, and the savory smell of cooking meats came to her from the camp-fires outside, She felt hungry, and was glad it was so, for she needed strength, and was sure in her own mind that a night’s sleep would ga her sufficiently to make a bold push for liberty. No! that would not do, She must be cautious, and steal away in the night time, and secrete herself where the Indians could not find her. In thinking over this last plan of escape she Imew she would need arms to protect herself, and determined to get them in some manner. She also thought of a horse, and the mustang” of Bear Claw, she had noticed, now seemed to be more at ease, and friendly in her company, and she determined to try kindness and pet him, and when once upon hia back and free of the camp, they could not overtake her, as the horse was noted for ang speed and bottom. She resolved to be ready and take advantage of any circumstance in her favor, and watch well lest she should miss a chance. A shadow darkened the entrance of the bower, and the Apache chief stood before her. “Prairie Flower is weak,” said War Eagle; “she must have meat—when dark comes, she will sleep—she will be strong, when sun comes —then we go on Pecos trail—she have much trouble—much hard ride—have long rest soon, where flowers plenty—birds will sing sweetly to Prairie Flower on the Pecos.” The chief called to a warrior who approached with venison and parched corn, which he placed before Mary upon a large green lily-leaf, torn from its home in the bed of the stream. “Prairie Flower thanks War Eagle for his kindness,” said Mary. ‘“War Eagle wants no thanks—when Prairie Flower is strong—when blood-paint is on her cheek he will happy—Prairie Flower has slain the Comanche snake—War Eagle is glad— the scalp of his brother hangs in the lodge of Bear Claw—War Eagle’s hate was strong—his knife was sharp—his mustangs like the wind— but he no kill Comanche dog, The squaws of our nation shall not walk the same trails as rairie Flower—she shall be ‘Queen of the Pecos.’” And War Eagle waved an adieu with the grace and air of a prince. Mary took advantage of his leaving to partake of a hearty meal, after which she eh inhi a pe for the night’s r , with blankets left er for that purpose. She then took a look out- side of the shelter. It was a wild, savage scene: | a dozen bright fires were scattered here and there amid the bottom-timber, and about these fires were Apache warriors, cooking and feast- ing, for they had found deer and antelope in plenty not far from the camp. It was now quite dark, and the fires threw out, each, its circle of light, showing off the flitting figures of the dusky war-painted man-brutes, and making Mary think of the fiends who in- habit Hades, as they had often been pictured to her imagination. ere was a constant hum, a dreamy, murmuring sound hovering over the camp, made by the Indians as they conversed in low, guttural tones in their own iar lan- guage, but no loud voice which could have been heard at any great distance. As Mary stood observing her surroundings, with dark forebodings for her future depressi her mind, there came a rush, a thundering o many hoofs as the mustangs were driven in, and secured within the line of guards. The camp was situated some distance in the timber, below the level of the prairies, which lay south. retired to her couch, wrapped the blankets about her, and having been without sleep for so long a time, was soon in a deathlike slumber. Many times War Eagle bent over her slee ing form, and afterward withdrew with ante Ce) satisfaction at seeing that his fair captive was enjoying the rest she so much needed, he eee, one after another, rolled them- selves in their blankets, and in an hour after the horses were driven in, and the guard , the camp was silent, and the red-men were sleeping as do innocent babes. The fires smoldered low, and darkness hover- | ed over all, so it was impossible to distinguish — the position of the sentinels. At midnight the was relieved, and a hazy, dull moon y lit up the pacy. The warriors just returned from their long watch, threw upon the main or chief fire a few armfuls of w ppv to their retiring, and ited the same by blowing at the coals; they then lit their pos and seated themselves about the blazing wood, for they were chilled by the { 19 heavy dew, which in that section of the country almost equals a shower of rain: They had been seated but a few moments when all were brought to their feet by the thun- dering of a horse, at full gallop, coming over the fain above, e deathlike stillness”*of the bottom made each bound of the animal distinctly heard, and great was the surprise of the Apaches, for their practical ears detected by the labored lope, that the steed was ridden and controlled by man. Before the alarm could be. given by the senti- nels who were dumb, with surprise, at a single horseman coming upon them, and hea white man—for they knew no Indian would come in that way—the whole war- y sprung from their blankets, and awaited in great surpense to see what manner of man was about to favor them with a visit. They had not long to wait, for down the bank from the prairie above, through the guard, into the midst of the camp—none opposing. him— came the Red ‘lrailer, bearing in his arms the Ayache chief, more dead. than alive—the mad- man having tortured the Indian by repeated stabs in the body, now reeking in blood! As Will entered the circle of firelight. his Bye appearance and wild yells, which now broke forth, sent a thrill of superstitious horror through the whole mass of Apaches, who shrunk from his path as from the Evil Spirit of their traditions. Red Trailer held the Apache chief; many times wounded by his knife, high in the air as he bounded into the camp, and as he came abreast of the Indians who were huddled about War Eagle, he hurled the savage with a giant’s strength through the air into their midst, One moment the madman and his mustang were stationary in the full blaze of the fire.ight, ina a a sight such as sent.a thrill of horror through the Apaches, which seemed to take away all their senses, except sight; for not one arm was raised against the maniac rider. Mary, awakened by the yellg and confusion, sprang to the entrance of her bower, and saw her father, just at the time he halted, his horse panting, covered with foam and blood. The air of the madman was flying in disorder, his garments and flesh were Et and his wild eyes gazing tauntingly at the horde of terri paches. One long, yearning cry came from her lips as she ng toward ken, **Oh, father!” That cry broke the spell that was u all, and Red Trailer’s mustang directly into and through the mass of Indians as he peers the animal savagely with his bowie- nife, Demoniacal yells burst from, the throat of Wild Will as he plunged on through the timber toward the Cave of Death, at the same time a thick shower of arrows, lances and tomahawks hurtled through the air; but the Indians were so confused, and so huddled together, that the madman was nct unhorsed, and soon his wild, unearthly cries died away as he left the vicinity of the camp, going to the northward. Poor Mary sunk to the earth as she saw her father in such peril. Her heart was almost broken at witnessing his dreadful plight, and she realized with. hor- ror that, face to tace with him, he did not know her! After the disappearance of Red Trailer, War Eagle sprung to the assistance of Mary, and carried her back to the bower, laying her upoe the blankets without speaking a cont then left to rejoin bis warriors, wbere they were collected about the form of the Indian who had returned to his brother braves in so strange and mysteri- ous a manner. As War Eagle approached, the warriors open- ed a way for him, and he entered the circle of which the large camp-fire formed the center. The Indian who had been hurled into their midst by the madman, now lay upon a blanket near the fire, and it was evident to all that his time was short. ; The blood flowed in little streams from adozen ORR. n them wounds inflicted by the bowie of Wild Will. As War Eagle came near to the dying brave, the latter’s cyes brightened, and he strove to raise . himself upon his elbows, A saddle was placed at his back, and War Eagle seated himself opposite. “" Black Hawk comes back to his chief alone,” said War Eagle, sternly ; —-who is the War Eagle’s ears are open!” A drink of water was given to the dying brave, who answered faintly: “Wolves of the rairies tear the flesh of the: warriors of Black west—their guns shoot many bullets—they flew like the frozen rain from the north—they gave: no time for death-songs—not one is left but, Black Hawk—his last on the Pecos— “The Evil Spiri and bravery; he is the Evil Spirit of the men—bleod and death follow fast on his trail— war-cry has been heard “* where are bis braves?’ hite Devil that rides in the right? —where are the long-shooting pale-faces? Speak! awk—the white Rangers: | Shot fast—they came from north, south, eastand t drove away their Pape
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20 Wild Will, the Mad R let War Eagle beware of the White Devil—he rides like the north wind—he howls like the thunder of the Great Spirit—War Eagle ride fast to the Pecos—the long-shooters are on trail —danger and dishonor go with the white squaw —let her die by the torture-fire—I have spoken —night grows dark—Black Hawk’s trail points yi Se the moon—” e words of the dying chief turned into the low chant of the death-song as he composed his limbs, and a with avacant stare up into the starlit sky. The Indians kept their places: not a word was spoken, not a sound broke the silence of the night except the low voice of Black Hawk, as he recounted his deeds of war and chase, but soon the mournful sound ceased, and Black Hawk was cold in death. As the sub-chief gave his last convulsive gasp War Eagle rose to his feet, and speaking in a loud voice said: ‘‘Warriors of the Pecos—you have heard the words of Black Hawk—our brother braves are food for the wolves—the fast-shooting whites are on our tracks—we are but few—we must ride fast toward the setting sun—your mustangs have eat we must be on the “pees be- fore light comes—my warriors will be read when War Eagle gives the black wolf’s yelp— have spoken.” The chief waved his hand and his braves sprung quickly to collect arms and blankets, and to saddle their mustangs for the night’s march. War Eagle strode to the shelter in which Mary sat weeping bitter tears. ‘He stood an instant with a stern visage and folded arms at the entrance to the bower, and spoke to her: ‘Prairie Flower is graceful as the spotted fawn—her cheek is painted like the sky, when ae burn—her hair is soft and shines like he threads of the young corn—her eyes are like the dove, but the dove does not weep—the heart of War Eagle is sad—Prairie Flower has called the Red Trailer father—he has sent many braves on the long dark trail—he, the father of Prairie Flower. ill Prairie Flower say no?—will she lease the heart of War Eagle? The big bear of jhe mountain does not claim for his child the little fawn of the prairie.” Mary sprung to her feet, her hair hanging in disheveled masses over her shoulders to her hen her cheeks wet with tears, her eyes flash- in , Thus she stood, showing a strong spirit of an- ger and despair, which calmed the chief, as she cried out: " ‘*The Red Trailer, as you call him, is my fa- ther, and were he to kill the last red-man upon the plains, it would be but justice, for they have ruined him and his. Were the white men to steal into your lodge in the night, and torture our wife, your mother, your babe to death be- ore your eyes would you sit calmly down and weep for your lost? we father three suns ago had a wife, moth- er and baby-boy. The Comanches came in the night and he has nothing; all have been swept away in a stream of blood and fire, and the loss om : riven him to madness; do you wonder at s “The Great Spirit has laid a heavy hand upon the head of my poor father, and the red-men must take care, for he has the strength of the buffalo, and knows not the want of food, sleep or rest. “ He will be on your trail always; you will never sleep safely again if you take the Prairie Flower to the far away Pecos. ‘Your trail will be marked by the blood and Reet seh bones of your braves. A dark cloud hangs over War Eagle and his braves; let Prairie Flower go back to the Medina, and the cloud will burst. “Kit, the Eagle Eye Carson, is on your trail; he has sworn to rescue the Prairie Flower, and he never breaks his word, and the Great Spirit will help him keep it. “Before another moon comes to light the night there will not be enough of your braves left to save the scalps of the dead from Dis- honor.” Mary was forced here to stop speaklng, for her words were so bitter, and so vehemently spoken that she had to pause for breath. War Eagle gazed at her in silent admiration until she had ended, then answered her, slowly and thoughtfully : . When thesun went down the voice of Prai- rie Flower was sweet as singing birds--now, it is like the croak of the raven. Does Prairie Flower think War Hagle can be frightened b words? The Red Trailer may come—he wi never leave the Apache camp again! The ag, Eye may come—War Eagle will not show his back—he will not die alone—if he die-—Prairie Flower shall die with him, She will go on the long dark trail with the Apache chief. If no i uaw here she my squaw there. Come!— ar le is ready— e Flower will ride dy a he setting sun—she will go with War n Indian now loped up leading the horses of the chief and ; the former assisted the nearly-disheartened girl into the saddle, and | realized how hard a task it would anchero. then jumped upon his own horse, gave the yel of the black wolf, and two-score poe come with their red riders, bounded through the bot- tom timber and dashed over the prairies through the darkness to the north-west. CHAPTER XXVI. THE LEAP TO DOOM, THREE days of hard riding, after War facie and his band left the head-waters of the Guada- lupe, brought them to the foot of Mount Bonita, situated on the Pecos river. By crossing the river they would be in their so fagged that War Fagle decided to rest here and recruit the animals before fording the river. Mary, thus far, had had no opportunity to es- ole Tok the Indians had kept a stados Seaton upon her. The long ride had worn upon her greatly, both bodily and mentally, for, as eague after league of prairie was passed, she for the Rangers to follow, and also she knew there would be small chance of her ever again return- ing to her former home, after once crossing the Pecos. and being taken into the mountain strong- holds of the Apaches, War Eagle selected a camping-spot at the foot of Mount Bonita, near a spring of cool water which bubbled from the oer The mountain rose in almost a perpendicular wall of rock above the camp, and before it to the eastward stretched the prairie, away to the distant horizon, Opposite the camp—the fires of which were in a long line by the base of the mountain—the mustangs were herjed, and were making up for lost time by tearing the rich grass in huge mouthfuls from the sod. War Eagle had chosen a favorable position for defense, as mee detached bowlders lay about at intervals, while by the spring was a grove of towering cottonwoods. No enemy could approach from up or down the river without being seen by the sentinels stationed one at each side of the mountain, high up ne pe the rocky steep, where they could com- mand an extended view. The east was an open prairie as far as eye could reach, and the coming of friend or foe, in the light of day, could be known long enough on of their arrival to be ready to receive them. With the mountain at their backs they could not be surrounded, and could easily hold their own against four times their number. It was true, in the night the look-outs would not be able to observe the approach of an enemy, but War Eagle hoped to cross the Pecos before the whites, did they follow his trail, would have time to reach the mountain. Upon this, the first night after their long and rapid ride from the Gaudalupe when they had a chance tosleep, War Eagle himself posted the guard, picking the best warriors for that important duty. Strict instructions were given by the Apache chief to the sentinels to watch the eastward ap- roach, keep their ears open, and give the alarm if there was any sign or indication of the ap- proach of the long and fast-shooting Rangers. After War Eagle had finished giving his or- ders and inspecting the camp, he sauntered to the place where Mary lay, completely exhaust- ed, beneath a shelter of blankets near the base of the cliff and between two bowlders. ‘Prairie Flower rode fast and long,” said the chief; ‘‘ she is a brave squaw—sleep will do good —she will be s.rong—when sun comes—she can climb the big hill—she can see Apache land where flowers bloom always, and birds sing sweet—she can see her home—War Eagle thinks it will be good—Prairie Flower was wrong—the Evil Spirit comes not—the fast-shooting Ran- pers are lost in the Bandera Hills—where is the lack cloud?—War Eagle sees it not—the sun has come twice—the moon grows small—but he sees it not—Prairie Flower had bad dreams —she has seen strange things—they come not to the eyes of War Eagle.” Had the chief cast a look above him, two hun- dred feet, to the low bushes, which bordered the edge of the cliff, he would have seen a sight which would have given the lie to one of his as- sertions; but it was not to be, and the horrible eyes of Trailer glared down upon the camp from the vail of leaves unnoticed. As War Eagle ceased speaking, Mary half arose and answered him; “You have taken Prairie Flower from the land of her mother’s grave, but she is not dis- cOUrAget the Great Spirit loves aay and He will cause War Eagle to wish he had left Prairie Flower where those she loved lay buried. ‘‘T have dreamed, when I know I did slumber but a moment, and in those dreams have seen rivers of blood, “T have the Apache warriors fall as with- ered leaves; I have heard the death-yell of War Eagle, Pre Apache land may be beautiful, but Prairie Flower does not wish to see it. Look! the sky ro dark! Is War Eagle ready to sing his death-song? The little birds have told me he will never see another night— that this is his last, and then the long, dark sleep will come.” ‘The little birds have forked tongues,” re- sponded War Eagle, disdainfully. ‘Prairie ower is weak—she has had too much ride— strange sounds are in her ears—strange sights in her eyes.” ‘You are wrong,” exclaimed Mary; ‘that which is in my eyes, now, is nota ae sight, although I see it when my eyes are c cued as well as open. Shall I tell you what I see?” “Speak,” said War Rage. “T see the Rangers of Texas,” cried Mary, | exultingly, as if describing an imaginary scene own hunting-grounds, but their mustangs were | that gave’ her fresh hope and courage; ‘‘ I see them coming like the wind over the prairies on the trail of War Eagle; their mustangs are cov- ered with foam; Eagle Eye Carson and the great Big Foot, are in front; they speak no word, nor look to the right, nor to the left; their eyes are upon the trail below the clattering hoofs; they are pale, worn and wounded; but in their eyes there is a stern determination, that wil] take them, parering as they are, to the Rocky Moun- tains, before they will give up the trail. ‘War Eagle, beware! death-yells shall ring around these rocks—which are as hard and de- void of feeling as your heart—from Apache throats! Your bright land of the Pecos will be the land of the dead, and the black cloud shall hover over and smother your spirit, for tearing a poor girl from her mother’s grave.” The words of Mary were given in such an earnest, prophetic manner, and there was such a far-away look in her eyes, that even the Apache chief drew back and cast a look toward. the east, as if expecting to see the Rangers com- ing; but, ashamed of having betrayed such he ro he straightened up boldly, and re- lied ; é ‘Prairie Flower is sick—the hot sun has burned her head—she flutters and sings, like a bird under the charm of a snake—War Eagle will go to his blanket—the words of Prairie Flower are forgotten—they do not please his ears. War Eagle stopped to speak a few low words, to a brave seated near the shelter, and then —_ a circle of warriors by one of the camp- res. Mary lay down again, provoked at herself for talking as she had, for, if War Eagle had taken her words for the truth, doubtless he would have moved his camp over theriver. She was lad he had thought what she said arose from a dear dared brain. Were they really dreams? No! She felt sure that Kit and the Rangers were on the trail; but, would they arrive in time! She could not think that God would allow the red fiends to take her where a life of misery ovgne # oud try and sl f the night e@ wo and sleep a part of then ; then, if there was a bility of eluding the guard, she would s away from the camp, and hide in the mountains. Better be torn by a beasts than cross the Pecos to be— what? Oh! God! it was dreadful! The r, worn-out maiden soon fell into a deep sleep, and the whole encampment was wrapped in silent — for the Indians, so worn by forced and rapid marching, did not linger about the fires as usual, but sought their blankets early. When Red Trailer observed from his elevated look-out on the cliff above the camp that all were asleep except the guard, he stole along the ve of the precipice, toward the south side of the mountain, keeping rocks and bushes be- tween him and the Indian sentinel posted at that point. Crawling and worming himself along like a snake, the maniac nae reached the place where the Apache, seated upon a rock, on the edge of the steep declivity, was calmly smok- ing his pipe, holding both hands over the bowl of the same to hide the fire from being seen, and gazing in unconcern over the dark abyss. One quick bound and the madman was at his back; the next instant his left hand clasped the throat of the brave, and the right descended, burying a long knife to the hilt in the Apache warrior’s heart. A spirt of hot blood, a horrible, gurgling sound, a struggle, a writhing of sinewy limbs, and the d rave was hurled with a giant’s strength, born of insanity, far out over the steep, and, descending through the air, struck © upon the rocks far below with a dull thud, and was dashed into a mangled mass. The clenched hands of Red Trailer were raised above his head, and a low laugh issued from between his grating teeth. With the same crouching, creeping manner he made his way to the north side of the moun- tain, and the other sentinel, left to overlook the pisins went flying over into the dark depths, a lood-stained, mangled corpse, with no death- how] passin his lips to warn his brothers in the camp that ger hovered above them. Returning to his former position of observa- tion, he proceeded some two hundred paces to the east among the rough bowlders, and then,
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by a narrow path, made his way carefully as a mountain-cat down to the plain below, and just inside of the guard line of the Apache camp. He had noted the position of each of the sen- tinels before darkness had hidden them from his view, and now lay, concealed by the low bushes and gloom, until the change of guard, for even in his madness there was method and calcula- tion more than most sane men would have exer- cised under the same circumstances. Hour after hour passed, and the madman sat as silent and immovable as any of the huge rocks by which he was surrounded, The moon, clouded and hazy, rolled up into mid-heaven. There came a rustlin; long grass and brush; specters past the hiding-place of the crouching man, Silently they went along the guard line; a few low sounds reached his ear; he knew they were relieving the sentinels upon the plain, and that two braves, fresh from sleep, would soon come up the Comer path to take the places of those whose mangled remains now lay upon the jagged rocks at the foot of the cliff. d Trailer then returned up the mountain pail and turning to the south, secreted himself hind a bowlder, directly in the trail the In- dian must follow to reach the point of look-out. He must work quickly to make away with this one, and reach the other side of the moun- tain before the relief discovered the absence of his brother brave. He heard the approach of feet in the lon, ideo and braced himself for a spring; the dar orm of the Indian passed his eg BTA and with the strength of a dozen men in his frame, he threw himself upon the brave and let out his life-blood upon the rocks. Once more a human form was hurled far out over the dizzy hight, and went crashing into a shapeless mass upon the rocks below; once again the more than wizard laugh broke from between the tightly-closed teeth, and the mad- tramp through the - Man sprung along over the path to the point where the other Indian was in search of one he would never find in this world. The warrior was just turning back, having passed the place selected by War Eagle for ob- servation, and not seeing the sentinel at his post was in search of him, when Red Trailer, ap- pesos in the darkness, was mistaken for he brave which he was looking for, and the Apache walked to meet him, saying: “Lone Wolf stops not at the forth rock—why does he go on strange trails? Ayx® his eyes heavy that he walks to open them?” These were the last words ever uttered by the Indian, for, as they left his lips, his throat was clasped as in a vise by the hand of an avenger; ag as the warning yell was about to burst from is mouth, for he had recognized who was oy Pe at him, in the partial darkness, but a 0 late, The flash of steel left. no life behind it; the mountain was free of the red demons, and Rad Trailer was its master, with none to crawl upon him from behind; for there was but one path up, and that but narrow and easily defended by a resolute man against a hundred, Now he was at liberty to carry out his plaus, so suited to his maniac mind. The buckskin straps and belts, which sup- rted arms and paint-bag, were torn from the ndians, previous to throwing them over the steep side of the mountain; these were taken by the madman to the first podsion he had occu- pied as a look-out upon the camp below, and cut into stout thongs, which he secured about his person, and once more stole down the path to the plain. Commencing at the base of the cliff, he ac- complished what would have been a difficult feat for half a dozen scouts like Big Foot Wal- lace, and which his madness aided in him. He crawled like a snake upon each Apache sentinel, and with one powerful blow of his fist knocked them senseless. Each was then bound and gagged; then one by one they were taken up the narrow path to the edge of the cliff over the camp, and secured together. This accom- plished without disturbing any of the sleeping warriors, Red Trailer now scouted through the Indian camp to the shelter of Mary, and taking her unconscious form in his arms, just as she was, rolled in her blankets, he bore her sleeping form tenderly up the steep hill by the narrow rock-blocked trail, and laid her, still in profound slumber, upon the soft i The maniac stood with folded arms, panting with exertion, gazing down titinrphantty upon the twelve Apaches, bound hand and foot, upon the sward; their black, snake-like ce te had recovered consciousness—were filled with superstitious horror as they gazed upon the mad- man, and would have sung their death-songs had the gags permitted them to do so, The Indians were placed in a semicircle, re- clining. upon a bank where all were in full view of each other, as they recovered from the stun- ey page inflicted by the Red Trailer, which had in most of them bruised and broken the skin, through which the blood was flowing. There was in the look and bearing of the maniac an exultation which took away a por- k forms glided like | Wild Will, the Mad Ranchero. | | tion of the maddened expression imprinted upon his face. . Wildly, with impatient strides, the insane | ranchero walked up and down the edge of the cliff, at times gazing down upon the Apaches with a fierce scowl of hatred, which, as he | turned toward his captives, changed to that | same low, horrible laugh that has been before mentioned, and which would cause a tremor of | dread to run through the frames of the bound uard, who closed their eyes, expecting the Tenth how, every time the madman came near their circle. CHAPTER XXVIL THE CLOUD LOWERS. Mary turned uneasily in her blankets, moans _ broke from her lips, and her eyes opened; the sky and the rocks above her ca astonish- ment, Where was she? Her shelter must have blown down, she thought. Springing to a sitting position, her | eyes fell upon her maniac father, and the bound Apaches just below where she lay. 2 great wonderment her looks watidered out upon the plain far beneath her, and she realized that she was on the mountain, That she had been borne there by her father | was evident; no one but he within her gaze was | free of limb. Did he know thatshe was his daughter? a was no look in his glaring eyes to tell er. Mary held out her hands pleadingly toward him, calling him—‘‘ Father ! The same fixed gaze met hers. Tears of agonizing sorrow started from her eyes at the pitiful sight of her mad parent. ould it not have been better if he had been killed when her mother was? Would it not have been better had she also been butchered, along with the only friends she | had upon earth? Mary, for the moment, forgot Kit, and then ‘the Indian captives lying bound below her led her to wonder if the Rangerswere not near. Was it not they who had brought the Indians from the camp of War Eagle? Surely her fa- ther could not have accomplished such a des- perate feat alone? How came her father on the mountain? He must have ridden like the wind to have arrived upon the heels of the war-party. Had he warned the Rangers, and brought them on the trail? This seemed most reasonable to her, and led her to think that the Rangers were hiding away on the mountain, waiting for a favorable op- rtunity to ee upon the sleeping warriors low; and still, if it was so, when would they have as good a chance as the present, when the savages were weakened by the absence of those braves who were bound before her? Mary now bent her gaze upon her father, and as she was thinking of bygone days in her happy home, a song which she was wont to sing to her parents came to her mind, and the next moment broke in low sweet tones from her lips, as it - a hundred times before at her father’s uest. reWild Will was some distance away, his face turned upon the plain below, but, as the famil- iar melody reached him, he sprung toward his daughter. Her eyes met his, and her song continued. The repulsive, maddened look in his face soften- ed, and at the close of the first verse he was sob- bing like a child at her feet, and Mary was holding his r battered bot head to her bosom, smoothing out his tangled hair, still warbling the song, tears streaming down her own cheeks and mingling with those of her crazed parent. As the song ended, the Red Trailer looked up into the face of his daughter, who bent down and kissed his hot brow, uttering the single word: “ Father.” “Mary, Mollie!” came to her ears in the low, ae tone as of old, and William Halliday was himself. They gazed tearfully into each other’s eyes, and it was a moment of unmeasurable happi- ness to both poor tortured brains; but only for a moment, for a wild yell, the danger-signal of the Apaches, rung up the moun from the camp below, as bright rays of light spread over the eastern horizon. The Apaches had discovered the absence of the captive and the guard! Wild Will sprung to his feet, shaking like an aspen; his eyes glared again in madness, and his teeth gritted horribly, as he bounded down among his captives, and examined each of the cords that bound them. y Mary, disheartened and discouraged, turned her gaze toward the rising sun, the only point from which she could expect relief, for she reasoned that if the Rangers were near they would, some of them have informed’ her, and not left her with her insane father. What's that which is outlined inst the blood-red disk of the God of Day? e shades her eyes with both hands. “Thank God!” ss 21 It burst from her lips—for she is not dream- Si, ice fT sees! ar away in the east, gilded by the sun’s rays, which shine like a halo of glory around them, are coming the Rangers. War Eagle’s black cloud, which she threatened him with, comes in the bright glare of the sunrise! A cry of delight breaks from the sweet lips of the sere eaters girl. She feels that she is almost free—that she will once more tread the flowery banks of the clear Medina, and kneel at her pevcae iD gl e k Below, in the Apache camp all is confusion; it is a mystery none can solve; they cannot see the face of the Red Trailer peering through the bushes above them; they cannot understand, or account for, the absence of the white squaw,, and the whole guard, War Eagle himself has lost his sagacity; the warning of Prairie Flower runs through his: mind, and seems in all its gloomy details to hover over them. The chief at last calls his braves about him- They huddle in a confused mass, near the shel- ter, where Mary had reposed; the superstition: inspired by the madman, and the warning of the dying chief, Black Hawk, which has been so: far held in check through respect for War’ Eagle, now bursts forth; but by a quick, authori- tative command, and unquailing glance into the: eyes of those he addresses, they become silent,. and half a dozen braves, by his order, rush up: the mountain path, as nothing has been seen or heard of the two sentinels posted upon the hight as look-outs, although they have been r ed! by a signal whoop from the chief. The eager braves do not climb the path a dozen strides before an avalanche of heavy frag- ments of rock come crashing and tearing down among them, as the madman hurls them, him-- self screened from view by the bushes and bowlders. Yells of astonishment and pain follow, and those not crushed by the bowlders return to 4 chief, deserting quickly the dangerous: path. The eyes of all the Indians now turn up the mountain side where they know must be hidden the power which has taken their braves, who were on guard, so mysteriously from their posts. Red Trailer returns to his post of observation and gazes through the bushes. He sees that the eyes of the whole Apache war- are fixed earnestly upon the top of the cliff, where, were it not for the fringe of brush, himself and’ cap- tives would be in view; for from the path along the ridge in which he stands the mountain runs . up steep as a house-roof, but from its rocky sur- | face it was not difficult to climb. The features of Wild Will light up with hellish glee: his time for vengeance has come! The maniac, with one bound, is in ae his red captives. He cuts one warrior loose from the circle, and | gue: the long scalp-lock in one hand, and the belt of the savage in the other, he braces himself to advan , and hurls the living red-man far out over the fringe of he ne and over the gaping crowd of warriors ow. One long, piercing yell of horror and terrible, deathly fear, springs from the doomed Apache, bursting away the gag, as he whirls over and over, and then, descending like a meteor, is dashed upon the jagged rocks before the ap- palled band below. Another and another wild yell, and another brave whirls over the cliff, cuts the air, and strikes the rocks with a sickening thud, spatter- ing blood upon the Apache braves below, who are paralyzed with the dreadful sight, and who, as yet, know not what hellish power is hidden from them by the brush fringe, from which their comrades are hurled to a horrible doom. Their eyes and attention are riveted, with dread anticipation, upon the cliff-top, and they do not see the greater and more immediate ers. to themselves in the rear, until the dull, rumbling thunder of clattering hoofs draws their eyes suddenly to the north, and a sight is before them which drives the horror of the cliff from their minds, and spurs them to quick movements for self-defense. A hundred of their deadliest foes, the Co- manches, are coming toward them, with arrows already fitted to bows! As the Apaches turn their faces to the plain, the wild war-whoop from a hundred savage throats breaks forth upon the morning air. The superstitious dread of horror brought forth by the unknown fce of the mountain, vanished at the sight of known and mortal enemies. War Eagle is himself once more, and his bold; voice rings out clear and loud as a trumpet. ‘“Warriors of the Pecos! The Comanches come—let them not see our backs—let your lances and arrows drink their blood—keep your eyes on the dogs of the north—show them how Apaches fight—how Apaches die.” he answering warey of the Apaches burst out bold and brave as they dashed behind the rocks and trees to defend their camp. came the Comanches, like an overwhelming, storm, and clouds of arrows filled the air. Down went a number of Comanches at the first charge—the Apaches retreating to the
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22 —~ ee - --- a Right up to. within thirty feet_of the rock char; the Comanches, their fierce cries fillin, the air with echoes, when down crashing throug their thickly-pressed ranks, crushing men and horses to the earth, came immense bowlders hurled from the hight above. While the battle raged below, and her father was hurling bowlders of rock with a Titanic strength upon the Indians, Mary—seeing the Rangers coming at a wild gallop, their rifles ready for work—sprung up the rocks far above her former position, and tearing a portion of her tattered calico dress away, waved the same in the air, and had the pleasure of seeing each and every sombrero of the gallant little band of heroes waved in return. The charge of the Comanches was met with such a murderous fire from the Apaches, to- ether with the unaccountable carnage from e stones thrown down upon them, that they were compelled to draw off; and as they did so another surprise awaited them. CHAPTER XXVIII. KIT’S CRACK SHOT. THE under Big Foot and-Kit, scat- tered out ina line, were not a thousand yards away as the Comanches began to fall back. The dreaded Sharp’s rifles began to send man on the long trail: Soon the wild Texas yell burst on their ears, and before they could get in order,to.charge upon their new foes, volley af- ter volley hurtled through their disorganized ranks, and they were forced to retreat toward the mountain, followed by the Rangers. Between tho two fires from Apaches and Rangers, they soon became desperate, and hud- dling together, with terrible yells they urged their mustangs along the base of the mountain, and escaped to the open prairie to the north, close pressed at a six-shooter charge. The leaden balls hurtled. through their ranks; war-whoops, death-howls, revolver-shots, and the victorious cries of the Texans filled the air until the Rangers turned their horses, glut with slaughter, toward the mountain again. As ‘the Rangers galloped into the camp, a score of Apaches:were in the saddle, War le at their head, ready to escape to their hunting- grounds over the Pecos. The Texans dashed in among the Apaches, their yells ringing up the mountain-side, their revolvers rattling as eyer. In vain did War Eagle strive to keep the few warriors that were left to him together; they fled my Sor all sides, while the chief caused his horse apis, Claes from the struggling men, and cast his eyes up the mountain-side, to be- hold. Mary waving the shred of her dress in en- couragement to the Rangers. dened at the sight, he urged his mustang toward the mountain path, and leaping from the animal’s back, sprung up the narrow defile to the cliff above. The chief was but half-way to the mountain- top before he was discovered by Kit, who guessed his purpose, and bounded in pursuit. Up clambered the Apache chief, while Red Trailer was dancing with hideous glee at the sight of the combat below, and did not notice the oreeecks of War Eagle. Kit’s heart was in his throat; a horrible fear filled his breast as he clutched his rifle and ran up the cme path. . War Eagle bounded like an enraged panther .. from rock to rock, and seized Mary, who was a with fear, in his arms, and her pierc- shriek filled the ears of Kit and her father, @ madman gazed in wonder at the bound- ing form, of the Apache chief, then clutching one of the captive braves, he launched him out over the cliff, and again there rung through the morning air that fierce, eran laugh. War le pressed the terrified form of Mary to his heart, and a look behind showed him Kit in fast it; he knew his moments were numbered, and resolved that the white squaw should die with him. The Apache chief and his trembling captive— from w breast all hope had departed— reached the opposite side of the mountain; they upon the verge of the lofty cliff, and the Pecos river was in plain view. War Eagle waved his hand and addressed Mary: War Eagle has told Prairie Flower she would see the Pecos—look quick—her eyes will soon sleep—they will never open—War Eagle has said Prairie Flower shall be his squaw— War Eagle never lies—she will go on the long trail—she will die with War Eagle—she will be his squaw beyond the stars. Come!” As the chief spoke the last word he cast a look of hatred, my a) and desperation over his ‘» shoulder toward Kit, who stood appalled upon ote arm of War Hagle arm of War waist of was raised from the to wavein derision at the scout. That moment was his last, With a movement like a flash of light, taking advantage of the re- death. War Eagle reeled; strove to gr Mary in | his embrace as the death-cry left his He his form swayed back and forth; astream o blood urted from his breast, and down, down from the dizy hight dashed the body of the Apache chief. Mary fainted with fear and weakness. The arm of the chief struck her as he fell, and she sunk down, and slipped slowly over the fearful hight, unconscious of danger. Her dress drag- ged over the. rough-pointed rocks; her fair form must soon be a mangled mass of hu- manity. “Great God! save her,” prayed Kit, on bend- ed knee, as his eyes closed after the shot. Kit stands now with the great agony-sweat in beads upon his forehead; his limbs quiver; his lips mutter strange sounds; he drops to the sronpe and crawls on hands and knees toward e fatal rock; he is very weak; his eyes have a horrible, desperate stare in them. Slowly the worn, wounded scout creeps over the rocks; his eyes are riveted with an unearth- ly glare upon the spot where Mary had last stood; he gasps for breath. A breeze comes in light puffs up the hight; a ragged shred of calico is blown for a moment above the cliff; the scout sees the fluttering dress, and bounds like a mountain goat to the very verge of the precipice. is prayer is heard! A portion of the maiden’s dress has caught on a point of ged rock, and the beautiful form hangs over the brink, with but a few threads between life and death. The scout’s heart is in his throat, as, with a of iron, he seizes fae arm and drags er to his side on,the cliff, and with rapture un- told the poor girl awakens to realize that she is saved—saved oh the man whom she loves more than she does all else in the world. CHAPTER XXIX, THE END OF THE TRAIL, WHEN Mary’s joy, at the safety of herself and Kit, was over, her first thought was of her gore father, and she glanced nervously around to see if he was near; but the madman had gone, dashing, as before, on the trail of the flying red- skins, his vengeance still unsatiated. “When he finds you are no longer a captive he will return, Mary; he will come back to—” ‘“ Where, Kit? Remember we have no home now,” interrupted Mary, sadly, while the pearly tears dimmed her beautiful eyes. ‘Pardon me, Mary, for bringin uP painful memories, but when this Fenental ever has burned out, he will come back to the grave of those he loved.” ‘* My mother’s graye! yes, I have no mother now—our home and 3 are gone—gone for- ever. “That home, once so happy, where dwelt Will Halliday and his lovely family, is in ashes, Mary; but there is a ranch on the Medina that has no rose to brighten its hearthstone. To that home I would transplant her who bears. the name of Mary, and whom the Comanches have called the Rose of the Medina: what say you, little girl?” and Kit’s eyes shone with a tender- ness the maiden had never seen in them before and in the face turned up to meet his earnest gaze, the scout read his answer before the lips parted with the words: of Thy home shall be my home, thy creed my “ Be ther howly Moses, Misther Kit, it’s givin’ up huntin’ rid divils, yez hev, to be afther catchin’ a angil in pittycoats, Begorra, but yez ’ave as mooch taste as mesilf. er humbil sarvint, me leddy, an’ ther blissin’ of ther Howly Vargin rist upon yez,” and Larry sprung from his panting horse and made an awkward bow to » who said pleasantly, though she failed to remember having met the Irishman before: ** And you are one whom I have to thank as a brave defender who came to my rescue. God bless you, brave Ranger,” and she held forth her hand, which Larry grasped as tenderly as he would a buttersiy, Before the Irishman could reply the Rangers came up, Ly Sage in the lead, and. throwing themselves from their steeds, they gave three rousing cheers for the Rose of the Medina, after which they gathered around and congratulated the maiden upon her rescue. Observing that Mary seemed haggard and worn out, Big Foot said, kindly: ** Now, Mollie, we have yer safe, we want yer to jist take a rest fer ter-day and ter- night, an’ we'll guard yer from harm; then | we'll start on ther back trail, an’ if I don’t mis- | took we'll git sorongs all right to the Medina. Come, boys, let’s e wicky-up fur: ther Rose o’ ther M The Ran and then went to work with a will, and soon had a safe and pleasant retreat for the ms?” wn; after which they dress- trophies found in the Indian camps, and ang Without adventure worthy of notice, they at length reached the Medina, arriying in sight of the ruined home of Will day just before sunset. That Mary might kneel alone at the grave of her mother, Kit delicately suggested fiat she should ride on ahead, when they came within a few miles of the Medina’s and thanking him with a sad smile, she ur; her mustang, the one that had belonged to the Apache chiet, into a gate , and soon came in sight of the clump of timber that concealed the last resting- lace of those so dear to her, who had been urled into cane aii by a death so horrible, But suddenly the maiden drew rein, and wheeled her horse as though about to fly back over the prairie; but an ‘nstant only did she ba and ed on Sauk forward toward 6 grave at the foot of the large post-oak. That which had startled the maiden was a large mustang, bridled and saddled, and stand- on pre the shadow of the trees; that which had caused her toagain ride on was the form of a man, ep ene. Macy the ashes-covered graye under the Late Ss. Cautiously Mary rode into the timber, and springing to the groend: crept softly toward the spot where crouched the form—a form she re- zed in spite of its tattered clothing, t- and-blood-begrimed face, unkempt hair and wild appearance. earer and nearer she crept until within a few feet of the man, whose glaring eyes were bent upon the ground, as though metrate the he covering over the triple dead that lay beneath. ** Father!” In an instant the man was upon his feet, and: he stood like a hunted wolf, his ears bent in the act of listening, his eyes wildly flashing. “Father!” Again came the soft sweet voice to the man’s ears, and he trembled Mie: while his teeth were set, and his hands were ¢ inched until the nails sunk into the palms. ‘* Father!” The man started, and his hand was raised painfully to his forehead, while words of dee st| ed anguish broke from the white, blood-s lips: ‘¢ Am I mad, that I know not where I have heard that voice before? Oh God! am I mad?” and the man glanced nervously around him, yet his eye fell not on the trembling form and white face of the maiden. “Father!” “Oh, God! it is my Mary calls, and I must fly to her,” almost shrieked the man, springing for- ward, a wild light in his bloodshot eyes. ‘“*Father—I am here—here /” and Mary threw herself before him and grasped him wildly around the neck. With giant strength, such as only the mad possess, he tore loose her hold and held her out _ arm’s length, while he gazed fixedly into her e. of Father, lam your Mary; do you not know me “Think, father! Our home, once happy, is gone, and we are all that are left—we are all,” ‘* Your mother, girl, where is she?’ hoarsely said the madman. “She is dead, alas!” ys Poh — is geod; I remem bet now, ond 1" grave is here! am no longer mad! can think now, for reason comes back to this poor, aching, whirling brain; the hideous night- mare is ended, and l awake to all that I have lost. Yes, I remember now the red fiends and their devilish work—I remember all; we are left, but they lie there—ha! before my vision valle rere Ay: wild comers ringing death- ells, m es and fien revenge—ay, m tends are torn, my breast cut and Bloodistained, and the warm life-current is dripping my ed arms—yes, it comes back now like a ream of death—my woes drove me mad—my madness drove me to revenge—Mary, your mo- ther, ay, all who lie there, are avenged.” — The poor man covered his face with his hands, shudder shook his tall form, and throwing him- self upon the grave, he burst into a flood of Kneeling beside him, aced her hand upon his bowed head, and soon his violent grief ot: away, and, as the sound of approaching oof-strokes broke on his ear, William Halliday arose to his feet, his face calm, the wild glare gone from his eyes, and k's brain no longer on fire with the fever of revenge, for had returned to its: throne, and in the dignified man who gree ) gers as the e up, they no longer recognized the one who had pig ely been known as the Red Trailer. } THE END, as though to shut out some fearful sight, and a ¥ +> ’ i ‘
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—?_ 1 Deadwood Dick, Tre Prince or THE Roap. By Edward i. Wheeler. 2 Yellowstone Jack; or, Taz TRAPPER OF THE ENCHANTED Grounp. J. E. Badger, Jr. 3 Kansas King; or, THe Rep Ricstr Hanp. bye alo Bill (Hon, Wm. F. Cody). The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and Capt. Frederick Whittaker. VagabonG soe; THE Youna WAaNDER- inc Jew. By Oll Coomes. 6 Bill Biddon, Trapper; or, Lire «mv Tax NortHwest. By Edward 8. Ellis. 7 The F Yankee; or, Tux OcEzAN Outcast. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. ky Seth Jones; or, THE CAPTIVES OF THE Edward 9 The Adventures of Baron Mun- usen. 10 Nat, Todd; or, Tae Fare oF THE 1 1 Sioux Captive. By Edward 8, Ellis. rae The Two Detectives; or, Fortunes or 4 Bowery Grau. A.W. Aiken. Be ea rene atunaltee liput, and a Voyage . 13 The Dumb Spy. By Oll Cacahen, author of * Vagabond Joe,” etc. 14 Aladdin; or, THe WoNDERFUL Lamp. 1 5 The Sea-Cat;. or, THE Witch oF Danie, By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 16 Robinson p beter _ nol 7 urp) Adventures, ustrations. 1 7 Ralph Hoy, The Boy Bucca- neer. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 1 fe, Sindbad the Sailor. His seven voy- ages. From the Arabian Nights. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, THE Por or THE Prarriz. By Buffalo Bill, woop Dick’s DEFIANCE. E. L. 21 Fronties +a * perence of ntu Rangers’ Life, Ellis. 2 The Sea Serpent; or, THz Boy Rostrson Crosoe. By Col, Juan Lewis. 2 Nick o’ the Night; or, Taz Boy Spy or '76._ By. T, OC, Harbaugh. 24 Diamond Dirk; or, THe Mystery OF THE YELLOWSTONE. By Col. m. 2 5 The Boy Captain; or, THe Prratx’s DaveuTer. By Roger Starbuck. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Demon. By Edward L, Wheeler, , 20 The Double ctr 5, yee Sea 2 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. By Oll Coomes, Qe Buffalo Ben; or, Deapwoop Dick mx Disevisz. By Edward L. Wheeler. 29 The Dumb e; oR, THE Doan’s DAUGHTER. Ba! apt, F. Whittaker. Ralph 30 Roaring ckwood, Tz Receiess Ranecer. By Harry St. George. 3 1 Keen-Knife, THE PRINCE OF THE Prairies, By Oll Coomes. 3D Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian; or, Toe Girt Deap-Suor. E. L. Wheeler. 33 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, Taz Rep PrraTes oF THE CaRIBBEES, 8S. W. Pierce, 34 Oregon Sol; or, Nick WHIFFLEs’ Boy Spy.’ By Capt. J. ¥, ©. Adama. 3 5 Wild Ivan, Tux Boy CLaupe Duvat; By Edward L. Wheeler. 36 The Boy Clown; or, eo QUEEN oF THE ARENA. By Frank 8. Finn. 37 The Hidden Lodge; or, THE Litria : HUNTER OF THE ADIRONDACKS. Harbaugh. 38 Ned Wylde, Tur Boy Scour. By Texas Jack. 39 Death-Face, the Detective. By - Edward L. Wheeler. ; Rovi Ben. A story of a Young 4 ythre —3 By John J. Marshall, 41 Lasso Jack, THE Youne Mustanc- ER. By Ol] Coomes, 42 The Phantom Miner; or, Drap- woop Dick’s Bonanza. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 43 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. By Capt. F. Whittaker. Rattli Rube; or, THe Nicuxr- ae ees j By Harry St. George, A Old Avalanche, the Great An- nihilator. By Edward L. Wheeler. 46 Glass Eye, the Great Shot of the West. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. 47 Nightingale Nat; ox, Tue Forest Saran By T. 0. Harbaugh. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 49 Omaha Oll; or, DeEapwoop Dick 1n Dancer. By Edward L, Wheeler, 50 Burt Bunker, THe Traprer. A 5 1 Tale of the Northwest. By C. E. Lasalle. The Boy Rifles; or, THz UNDER- G@rounp Camp. By Archie C. Iron. 52 The White Buffalo. A Tale of Strange Adventure. Charles E. Lasalle. 53 Jim Bludsoe, dr., THE Boy PHENIx; or, THROUGH To THE DeaTH. E. L. Wheeler. 54 Ned Hazel, THe Boy TRappER; or, THE PHantom Princess. By J, F.C, Adams. 5 5 Deadly-Eye, Tux Unknown Scovr; By Buffalo Bill. s 56 Nick Whiffles’ Pet; or, In THE VaLuey or DeatTs. Capt. J. F. C. Adams. 57 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, Tae Parps or Firoop Bar. EF. L. Wheeler. 58 The Border King; or, Taz Szcrer For. By Oll Coomes, 59 Old Hickory, or, Panny ELu1s’s rge. Scatp. By aay, St. Geo 6 The White Indian; or, Tar Scour oF THe YeLLOwsTone. By J. F.C. Adams. 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, Taz Rep Rirtz Tzam. By Edward L. Wheeler. 62 The Shadow Ship; or, Tur Rrvau Lyeurenants. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 63 The Red Brotherhood; or, Tux TwELVE AvenGrRS. By W. J. Hamilton. 64 Dandy Jack; or, THz OvuTLAWw or THE OREGON TRAD. By T. C. Harbaugh. 6 5 Hurricane Bill; or, Mustane Sam AnD His ‘‘Parp.”’ By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 66 Single Hand; or, A Livz ror a Lirs. By W. J. Hamilton. 67 Patent-Leather Joe; or, OLp Rat- TLESNAKE, THE CHARMER, By P.8.Warne. e 68 The Border snoere: Hood ; or, THE Prarrig Rover. By ‘alo Bill. 69 Gold Rifle; or, Txt Boy Derecrrvz or THE Buack Rancu. By E. L. Wheeler. 70 Old Zip’s Cabin; or, THE GREEN- HORN IN THE Woops. By J. F.C. Adams. 7 1 Delaware Dick; THz YounG Ran- cur Spy. By Oll Coomes, z y 2 Mad Tom Western, Taz Trxan Rancrer, By W. J. Hamilton. TRAPPER 1 Te OF THE , , "6 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. By Albert W. Aiken. y the Corduroy Charlie; or, THz Last Act or Dgapwoop Dicr. By BE L. Wheeler. rf fey Blue Dick; or, Toe YeEtLow Curer’s VENGEANCE. By Captain Mayne Reid. ¥ Sol , THE Giant TRAPPER. By Albert W. Aiken. 80 Rosebud Rob; or, Nueerr Nzp, raz Knicut oF THE GuLcH, By EB. L. Wheeler. §1 ss te SH THe TERROR OF THE RAIRIE. Captain J. F. C. Adams. S2 Kit Harefoot, Taz Woop-Haws; or, Relic PE yg omy By T. O. Harbaugh. . Ranger; or, THE $3 HEIRESS OF THE Gotan Hory, Oli Coomes. 4. Idyl, the Girl Miner; or, Rosrrup B oN Haxp. By Edward L. Wheeler. & Buck Buckram; or, BrEss, THE F'E- MALE TRAPPER. la t. J. F. C. Adams, be) Dan Rock, THr-MAn-From-TEx- as. By G. Waldo Browne, 8 7 The Land Pirates; or, THE LEAGUE Photoarapl Bill s>on, Hocenun o $ oR, RoskEsup fs ha) Roatt hassvainsvcn. By Ed. L. Wheeler, S9 Island dim; or, THE PET oF THE Famity. By author of “Jack Harkaway.” 90 The Dread Rider; or, Tuk TEXAN Dvue.ist. By George W. Browne. y The Captain of the Club. By Bracebridge Hemyng, (Jack Harkaway.) 92 Canada Chet; or, Oup Anaconpa tN Srrrine Butx’s Camp. By E. L. Wheeler. 9 3 The Boy Miners; or, THE ENcHANTED Midnight Jack, Tiz Roap-A HE AD-AGENT. 94 By T. ©. Harbaugh. 95 The Rival Rovers. By Lieutenant Col. Hazeltine. 96 Watch - Eye, Toe Derrcrivs. By Edward L. Wheeler. O7 The Outlaw Brothers; or, THz CaprivE or THE Harpes, By J. J. Marshall. 98 Robin Hood, THE OurLaweEp EarRL. | By Prof, Stewart Gildersleeve, BEADLE’S HALF-DIME LIBRARY. Every one of them ‘ Live” Stories by *‘ Live®? Authors, Each number a Complete Novel, at the extraordinary price of a HALF-DIME. | | i J Ag 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville. By Edward L. Wheeler, LO1 “yatoeeprer or Xa 102 Dick Dead-Eye, THe Boy Suve GLER. By Col. ntiss Ingraham 103 = of the Sea. By Col 104 Deadwood Dick’s Device. By Old Rube, Tar fi ube, THz HunTER; or, THR 105 Crow Captive. By Capt. H. Holmes. 106 os . Frosty, the . C, Harbaugh. One-Eyed Sim; or, THz Apan- 107 pene FoRest Howe By J. L. ees aring Davy, THE YounG Bear 108 Kuuzr. B a St. George. 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler. 1 10 The Black Steed of the Prai- ries. By James L, Bowen. 1 1 1 The Sea-Devil; or, Tar Mmsnir- MAN’s LeGacy. By Col. P. Ingraham. 1 12 The Mad Hunter; or, THz Cava or Deats. By Burton Saxe. 1 1 3 Jack Hoyle, THE Youne Spxrcv- LaToR. By Edward L. Wheeler. 1 5 4 _ Black Schooner. By RocEr ‘ARBUCK 115 Te Mad Miner. 1 16 The Hussar Captain. By Cot. 1 1 7 Gilt-Edged Dick, Tur Srort-Dr- TECTIVE. By Edward L. Wheeler. 118 Will Somers, THz Boy Der«xo- tive. By Charles Morris, 1 19 Mustang Sam; or, THz KinG oF 12 The Branded Hand; or, Tax Ma ran sor, THE MAN 1 2 1 Otanaim vimomeys Lip a puta tient Stone. By Edward L. eeler. 122 PE doe yf, Ae Boss Boy. 123 Kiowa Charley, Rs ey Mus- TANGER. . ©. Harbaugh. 124. Tppy, the Texanscr, Tas Youre 12 5 Bonanza Bill, Miner; or, Taz Picayune Pete af ong, iecopancte. 126 THE o@ DETECTIVE. By Chex. Morris 127 Wild-Fire, THe Boss oF tae i de. By ic By GrorGE Roap. By Frank Dumont. ' 12 The Young Privateer ; or, Tuz Prrates’ SrRONGHOLD. H. Cavendish. 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double. A Story of Wild-Cat City. E. L. Wheeler, 130 Detective Dick; or, Tux Hrro tmx Raas. By Charles Morris. 131 The Golden Hand; or, Danny Rock To THE Rescuxn. G. W. Browne. 1 3 The Hunted Hunter; or, Tur Srraner Horseman. By Ed. 8. Ellis. 133 Boss Bob, THE KING OF THE Boorsiacks. By Edward L. Wheeler. 1 34 Sure Shot Seth, THe Boy Ririz- MAN. By Oll Coomes. 1 3 5 Captain Paul, THE MoonsHINER or Kentucky. By C,D, Clark. 1 36 Night-Hawk Kit ; or, luz Davas- TER OF THE RANcHE. J. E. Badger, Jr. 137 The Helpless Hand; or, Bacxk- woops RETRIBUTION. Capt. Mayne Reid. 1 3 ee, Blonde Bill; or, Drapwoop Dicxr’s Home Base. By Edward L. Wheeler. 1 39 Judge Lynch, Jr.; or, THE Bor VIGILANTE. By T. C. Harbaugh. 1 40 Blue Blazes; or, THE BREAK 0’ Day Boys, By Frank Dumont. 1 Al Solid Sam; or, THE Boy OuTLaw, By Edward L. Wheeler. 1 42 Handsome Harry, THE Boor BLACK Detective. By Chas. Morris. A new issue every week. The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per — or sent by nial on receipt of six cents each. B LE & ADAM& Publishers, 98 William Street. New York. For Satz By
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32 Large 'Three-Column Pages, 1.4 Hard Crowd; orn, GENTLEMAN Ram’s Sister. By Philip S. Warne. 2. The Dare-Devil; or, THe WincEeD Vircn of THE SEzA, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 3. Kit Carson, dr., THe Crack SHOT or tHE West. By Buckskin Sam. 4, The Kidnapper; or, THE Great SHANGHAI OF T71e NorTHWeEST. By Philip S. Warne. 5, The Fire-Fiends; or, HercuEs, THE Houncusacse. By A. P. Morris. 6. Wildcat Bob, Tue Boss Bruiser ; or, Tae BorDER BLoopHouNDs. By Edward L. Whee- ler, author of “* Deadwood Dick,” ‘* Double Daggers.” 7. Death-Notch, THe Destroyer; or, Tae Sprrir LAKE AVENGERS. By Oll Coomes. 8. The Headless Horseman, A strange story of Texas. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 9. Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. 10. Vidocq, THE FrEeNcH PoLice Spy. Written by himself. 11. Midshipman Easy. ryat. 12. The Death-Shot; or, TRACKED TO DeatTH. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 13. Pathaway; or, Nick WHIrrLzs, THE Op TRAPPER OF THE NorTHWEST. By Dr. J. H. Rob- inson. 14. Thayerdaneges, THE ScouRGE ; or, THE WAR-EAGLE oF THE MonAwks. By Ned Bunt- ine, author of ‘The White Wizard.” 15. The Tiger-Slayer; Heap To THE Rescue. By Gustave Aimard. 16, The White Wizard; on, Tue Great PROPHET OF THE SEMINOLES. By Ned Buntline. By Capt. Mar- 17. Nightshade, Tae Rosser PRINCE | or Hounstow Hratu. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 18. The Sea Bandit; orn, Toe QuEEN | or THE Istx, By Ned Buntline. 19. Red Cedar, Tue Prarrime Ovtiaw. By Gustave Aimard. 20. The Bandit at Bay; or, Tux Pr- | RATES OF THE PRAIRIES. By Gustave Aimard, 21. The Trapper’s Daughter; on, Tue OvTLAw’s Fate. By Gustave Aimard. 22. Whitelaw; or, Natriz or THE LAKE Snore. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 23. The Red Warrior; or, STELLA DELORME’S CoMANCHE Lover. By Ned Buntline, 24. Prairie Flower. By Gustave Ai- mard, author of ‘“‘ Tiger-Slayer,”’ etc. 25. The Gold-Guide; or, Steer Arm, THE ReGuLaTor. By Francis Johnson. 26. The Death-Track; or, THe Ovr- LAWS OF THE MovuntTaIN. By Francis Johnson. 27. The Rpotter-Detectives or, THE Giris or New Yorks. By Albert W. Aiken. 28. Three-Fingered Jack, Tur Roap- AGENT OF THE Rockies; or, THe Boy MINER or Harp Luck. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 29. Tiger Dick, Tux Faro Kine; or, Tue CasHier’s Crime. By Philip 8, Warne 30. Gospel George; or, Frery FRep, tne OvtLaw. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 31. The New York ‘S Fuiase or Ligutninc. By Albert W. Aiken. 32. B’hoys of Yale; or, Tue Scrapzs | or A Harp Set or Coturarans. By John D. Vose. 33. Overland Kit. By Albert wW. Aiken. 34. Rocky Mountain Rob. By Al- bert W. Aiken. 35. Kentuck, the Sport. W. Aiken. 36. Injun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken. 37. Hirl, the Hunchback; orn, Taz SWORDMAKER OF THE SANTEE. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. By Albert oR, EAGLE- , 3? on, THE | IBRARY. | 38. Velvet Hand; or, Tue Iron Grip or Ingun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken. 39. The Russian Spy; or, Tax Brotu- ERS OF THE STARRY Cross. By Frederick Whittaker. 40. The Lo Haired ‘ Pards;’ or, | THE TARTARS OF THE Ins. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 41. Gold Dan; on, THe Wuire Savacr OF THE GREAT SauT Lake. By Albert W. Aiken. 42. The California Detective; oR, Tue Wrircues oF New York. By Albert W. Aiken. 43. Dakota Dan, THe Reckxiess RANGER; or, THE Bez-Hunters’ Excursion. By Oll Coomes, 44. Old Dan Rackback, THe Great EXTARMINATOR; or, THE TRIANGLE’s Last TRAIL. By Oll Coomes, » 45. Old Bull’s Eye, Tue Licurnine | Ssor oF THE Pains. By Joseph E, Badger, Jr. 46. Bowie-Knife Ben, Tur LitTLx HUNTER OF THE Nor’-west. By Oll Coomes, 47. Pacific Pete, THe Prince or THE Revoiver. By Jos, E. Badger, Jr. 48. Idaho Tom, Tue Youne Ovurtaw OF SILVERLAND. By Oll Coomes. 49. The Wolf Demon; or, THE QUEEN or THE KANAWHA. By Albert W. Aiken. } | ' | | KIT CARSON, JR.—No, 3. | 50, Jack Rabbit, Tux Pramm Sport; | or, Toe CHILDREN oF THE LLANO Estacapo. By Jos. | E. Badger, Jr. 51. Red Rob, Tue Boy Roap-AGEnt. By Oll Coomes. 52. Death Trailer, Tue Curr or Scovrs; or, Life and Love in a Frontier Fort. By | Hon, Wm. ¥. Cody, (Buffalo Bill.) 53. Silver Sam; or, THz MystERY OF Deadwoop Crry, By Col. Delle Sara. 54. Always on Hand; or, THe Sportive Sport or THE Foor His. By Philip §S. Warne, ; author of ‘‘A Hard Crowd,” “Patent Leather Joe,’ 55. The Scalp Hunters. A Romanceor Prats. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 56. The Indian Mazeppa:; or, THE Map MAN or THE Puans. By rt W. Aiken, 57. The Silent Hunter ; or, Taz Scowi | Hatt Mystery. By Percy B. St. John. | THE 58. Silver Knife; or, WICKLIFFE, THE Rocky Mounrary RanGer. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. | 69. The Man From Texas; or, THE OvuTLAW OF ARKANSAS. By Albert W, Aiken. 60. Wide Awake; or, Tue Jpior or THE BLAcK Hiuis. By Frank Dumont. 61. Captain Seawaif, rmx PRIVATEER. By Ned Buntline, Each Number Complete. Price 10 cts. 62. Loyal Heart; or, THE TRAPPERS OF ARKANSAS, By Gustave Aimard. 63. The Winged Whale. W. Aiken. 64. Double-Sight, the Death Shot. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 65. The Red Rajah; or, Taz Scourcs OF THE INprEs. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 66. The S r B ue. A TALE OF THE PaciFic. By Captain Mayne Reid. 67. The Boy Jockey; or, Honesty VERSUS CROOKEDNESS. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 68. The Fighting Trapper; or, Kit CARSON TO THE | ai By Canty. F. C. Adams. r 69. The Irish Captain; A TALE or Fontenoy. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 70. Hydrabad, THE STRANGLER; or, , THE CHILD OF THE Corp. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 71. Captain Cool-Blade, or, THz Man SHARK OF THE Mississiprr. By Jos, E, Badger, Jr. 72. The Phantom Hand, A Srory or rym York HeartTus anp Homes. By Albert W. en. 73. The Knight of the Red Cross; or, THe MaaictaAn oF GraNApA. A Tale of the Al- hambra. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 74. Captain of the Rifles, A Romanc' oF THE MrxicaN VaLiEy. By Captain Mayne Reid 75. Gentleman George, or, PARLOR, Prison, StaGE AND SrreetT. By Albert W. Aiken. 76. The Queen’s Musketeer, or, THISBE, THE Princess Patmist. By George Albony. 7%. The Fresh of Frisco, or, Tnx HEIRESS OF BUENAVENTURA, By Albert W. Aiken. 78. The Mysterious Spy; or, GoLpen FEATHER, THE BuccaNneER’s DavGuTreR. By A. M. Grainger. 79. Joe Phenix, tHe Potice Spy. By Albert W. Aiken, 80. A Man of Nerve; or, Caumman. THE DwarF. By Philip S. Warne. 81. The Human Tiger; or, A Hzari or Fire... By Albert W. Aiken. 82. Iron Wrist, the Swordmaster. By Col. Thomas H. Monstery. 83. Gold Bullet Sport; or, raz Kyicnts OF THE OVERLAND. By Buffalo Bill. 84. Hunted Down; or, THE Wauairr Wrren. By Albert W. Aiken, 85. The Cretan Rover; or, ZULEIKAn, THE BEAUTIFUL. By Col. Prentice Ingraham, c 86. The Big Hunter; or, Tux QurENn OF THE Woops. By the author of “ Silent Hunter.” 87. The Scarlet Captain; or, Tur PRISONER OF THE TOWER. By Col. Delle Sara. 88. Big George, Tur GIANT OF~ THE Guicu; or, THE Five OurLaw BrotHers. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 89. The Pirate Prince; or, Prerry NELLY, THE QUEEN oF THE IsLE. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. | 90. Wild Will, Tsz Map Rancuenro; or, THE TERRIBLE TEXAN. By Buckskin Sam. By Alberv 91. The Winking Oar; or, Tar Inn- KEEPER'S DauGuTER. By Albert W. Aiken. Ready April. 7th. 92. Buffalo Bill, Tur Buckskin Kine; or, THE AMAZON OF THE WEST. field Burr. Ready April 2ist. 93. Captain Dick Talbot, Kine oF 'y By Major Danger- THE ROAD; or, THE BLACK-HOODS OF SHASTA. Albert W. Aiken. Ready May 5th. A new issue every two weeks. Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by on ADLE & ADAMS, receipt of twelve cents each, BE hers, 98 William Street, New York. Pub!