Five Cent Wide Awake Library (vol. 1) (1881 07 25)
The text was read from the page scans by machine (OCR), so it has mistakes and its columns may run together. See the pages · About this title · At the Internet Archive
Page 1
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1819,by FRANK TOUSEY, én the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. @. #atered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., as Second Class Matter. us j , ws wt FRANK TOUSEY, PUBLISHER, 18 Rose Srreet. N. Y. Be PRICE l No. 446, | COMPLETE. | Wew York, July 25, 1881. IssuED Every Monpay. { 5 CENTS. }§ Vol, I | : 9h Ui] My
Page 2
2 LONG-PAW. The subscription price of Taz Wiz Awake Lipany for the year 1881 will be $2.50 per year; $1.25 for 6 months, post paid. Address FRANK OX 2150, USEY, PusBuisHEerR, 18 Rose Street, New York. —> LONG PAW THE MyYySTERiIovuUS HUNTER. ae By KIT Author of ‘*Wreckers and CHAPTER I. THE STORY OF A MYSTERIOUS HUNTER. Nigut in the backwoods! The straggling rays of the summer moon, glinting through the embowering trees, fall upon a little party of four persons. The scene is further illumined by the cheery blaze ofa camp-fire, around which are stretched the members of the party already mentioned. The place is not far from the head waters of the White Earth River and in the very shadow of the Black Hills, located in Southern Dakota. Let us glance at the party before us. Two are boys, or young men we suppose they would _ prefer to be called, being eighteen years of age, and one Dopscering the daintiest little black mustache in the world. _ The third member of the party is a man of about forty- pee reae of age, and by his appearance is a hunter and guide. The fourth man is a half—breed Indian, who serves as istant guide, interpreter, cook, provision-agent and eral utility man. he boys are warm chums, named respectively Carl ger and Will Baxter; the guide is called Gabe Harris and the Indian is known only as Sam, his own unpro- nonnceable appellation being too much for the boys to mas- ter Carl is of German parentage, though of American birth, and is fair, with blue eyes and thin, yellow hair, while Will Baxter, a regular out-and-ont, true-blue Yankee boy from top to bottom, is dark, and boasts luxuriant locks and a mustache. Both boys were sincerely attached to each other, and went ee 43 s had been companions since childhood, having been born on” the same day at the same time. They lived in Chicago, and were going to San Francisco to engage in business, ‘but had taken a rather round-about way to reach there. he fact was, there was no particular hurry, and they decided to spend their vacation, having just graduated from the high school, in hunting, fishing and adventure, previous to their entering the world of business. Carl was an orphan, his father having died a month or so before he was born, and his mother four or five years afterward, so that the poor lad was left to the tender care of relatives, who nevertheless took good care of him. - Will, too, strange to say, was also without parents, or if > had any they had never shown up as far as he could re- D he had his ach A BACKWOODS YARN. CLYDE. Smugglers,” Ltc., Htc., Ftc. The respective guardians of the two boys saw no reason why they should not enjoy themselves in the woods dur- ing the summer, previous to going into business, and so the boys, having procured a guide, set out upon their way to San Francisco, having been already a month on the road when we are introduced to them. Old Gabe needs no particular description, and neither does the Indian, so we will proceed with our story, having introduced our principal characters as far as possible. ‘‘We will strike into the Black Hills to-morrow, shall we not, Gabe?” asks Will, of the old trapper, who is puffing ewes a clay pipe, made as black as jet from constant smoking. ‘“‘Reckon we will, Master William. Shouldn’t wonder if we met with Long-Paw.” ‘‘Long-Paw? What's that, an Indian or a grizzly bear?” ‘‘Nuther.” «What then?” ty ‘A hunter. Queer feller he is, too. Some say he’s crazy, but I doubt it. Any rate, he knows enough ter make it hot fur the Injuns whenever he lights onter ther trails.” ) ‘Is he white?” “Yaas, I reckon so, leastwise I though now he’s brown as a nut. tory.” “Do you know it?” said Will, eagerly, while Carllook- — ed the interest he felt. ‘*Waal, yaas,)I know most on it, as it wur told ter me, but, o’ course; I can’t tell whether it’s all true or not.” ‘Tell us it just as you heard it,” said Will, excited- — guess he war once, ts a strange his- / ly. “Allright. my hearty, here goes.” ; Gabe first filled his pipe, however, before he began his — yarn, buf at last when everything was ready and the white _ clouds of smoke arose in the air, the old fellow started off as follows: et “They say that Long-Paw, called that on account 0’ the — bigness of his hand, which is an awful size and no mis= — take, more like the paw of a wild beast thana™5»’s hand, ~ they say that he war born somewheres in th® eastern art — of the states, Maine, I think, and that he £Ust settled here ae some twenty years ago, when he war a yOUnNg man, and afore his trouble came upon him. a . 33 “*He’d a brother, they said, that wanted to get his money — away from him, and said he wag crazy an locked him’ nj in a lunatic asylum. He got away from thatan aout saga the Injung killed his wife and all his children, — they sa: a * a
Page 3
That turned him crazy if anything ever could, and he swore a terrible vengeance against the murderers. “He went away into the woods and rarely comes out. His beard is long and shaggy, his skin is as dark as an In- jun’s, and his hand is a regular paw, large and long and covered with hair. «“When he gets hold cf one o’ them red devils with that paw, he choxes ’em to death an’ they never know what happens to ’em; but to let folks know that he’s been around, he jist carves out an arrer on the fellow’s breast. “Ye kin never know where he’s goin’ ter turn up, for he travels all over the country about here, from-one end to the other, never remaining long in one spot.” “Don’t you know his other name?” “No; and there ain’t anybody knows it. Don’t believe he everhad any. AtanyrateI never heard him called anything but Long-Paw.” “Ts he friendly to the whites?” **Yaas; but he don’t have any more to say to’em than he can help; neyer eats with ’em, and won’t sleep in their _ camps; got a hovel somewhere in the woods what nobody _ fanny if it don’t. “bné what he ’pears putty soon arterwards.” - said. knows anything about.” “*T should iike to see him very much,” said Will. “Tf you do, you can make sure that the Sionx are around then, for he always follers *em up close.” ‘And they have never succeeded in catching him?” ‘They may have caught him, but have never killed him. He’s too smart for the pesky critters. But, I say, it’s gettin’ late and I’m sleepy. Wake me up, Sam, at midnight.” In a few moments they were all fast asleep except the Indian on guard, while Will dreamed of mysterious hunt- ers, cruel Indians and wicked brothers nearly all night, as it seemed. CHAPTER II. THE WORK OF THE MYSTERIOUS HUNTER—THE NIGHT ATTACK—WILL BAXTER CAPTURED. THE next morning when the boys awoke, they found old Gabe roasting a haunch of venison over the fire, and mut- tering to himself. **W onder if it’ll happen so this time?” he said. ‘‘Durned I never git to talkin’ about that feller, ‘*What are you talking about, Gabe?” asked Carl. “‘Nothin’.” wena is Sam?” asked Will, getting up from the ound. ; “Gone arter water. He'll be back in a—— Halloo!” At that moment the Indian rushed into the camp in a’ state of poeae excitement, ‘Ugh! big divil round; see him mark on Injun!” he «See him finger on Tnjun throat.” “The mischief you did!’ said Gabe, jumping up. _**Where?” “Tn wood, little way off. Come see, Long-Paw been Ae about, white devil kill um Injun spy, choke um, put ar- row on um.” ‘Show us the place,”-said Will, excitedly, Carl saying nothing, but appearing as much interested as the others. The Indian Ted the way, a few steps only beyond the edge of the camp, and the boys saw what had startled him. Stretched across the fallen and partly-decayed trunk of ~ an immense tree was the naked body of an Indian, face upwards. : His mouth was open, and his bulging, blood-shot eyes and protruding tongue showed only too clearly that he had been strangled. | standing back to back in the center LONG-PAW. : ss On his breast were three or four gashes with a knife, which formed a rude representation of an arrow. ‘‘Long-Paw, sure enough,” said Gabe, coming up. “T’Il bet a cent that this feller.war a spyin’ on us an’ the crazy hunter come along an’ tickled his wind-pipe fur him, arter- wards puttin’? his mark on the cuss so’s we’d know he’d been here.” 5 ‘Do you suppose there are any more Indians about?” asked Will, eagerly. “Dunno; mought, an’ then again they moughtn’t, We'll see *em if they is, the pesky critters!” <‘What are you going to do now?” asked Will. “Kat my grub an’ start out fur the hills.” ‘ ‘Sensible idea that,” and in a few moments it was put into execution. The party had been perhaps an hour on the road when Sam uttered a guttural ejaculation, and pointed to an ob- ject just ahead of them. It was the dead body of an Indian, and, on inspection, proved to have been treated like the first. “Um white devil kill ’em all?’ grunted Sam; ‘‘eave none for Injun. Sioux get scared; run, ugh! No trouble paleface boy.” : . “J shouldn’t mind seeing a live Indian,” remarked Will. “Ye kin do it putty quick, I fancy, then, fur I see their’ tracks all around,” replied Gabe, with a grunt. ‘Keep er shootin’-irons handy, but don’t plug at the cusses on— ess they comes on ye ina heap. Better knife’em! That makes less noise!” The party kept on all day, meeting every now and then with the dreadful indication that Long—Paw was at work, but seeing no live Indians. At nightfall they encamped on a little patch of rising ground, though Willi desired to go to a valley just below them, where was a stream of water and seyeral large trees. _ After supper Gabe said that he was going to remain on ! watch for the night, as he did not like the looks of things, and that Sam could take the other half. Despite their anxiety the boys fell asleep in a short time, and had perhaps been in that state two hours when they were hastily awakened. z “Get yer weepins ready!” whispered Gabe, ‘‘an’ lie as flat as ye kin. ‘The pesky critters is around, an’ I s’pects there’s a heap on ’em.” meng a. “Did you see them?” ea ‘“Nc; but I smell *em an’ hear ’em, drat their dirty skins. Are ye all ready?” B “Yes,” answered both boys, in a breath, holding their : rifles in their hands, and seeing that their revolvers were in readiness. ces Suddenly a cracking sound was heard, and Will saw a tufted head rise up above the ground not ten feet away. Without thinking, he took mstant aim and fired, hit- ting the head full in the center, _ There was a fiendish cry and a dusky form sprang into the air and fell lifeless on the sod. » “By durn! thet’s a good shot,” said Gabe, “but I’m afeared ye wur too sudden—look out! By gosh, here they — come! Let ’em have it now, hot and heavy!” oi With a yell as if all the fiends had been iet loose, a score of dusky wretches dashed up the hill fning upon the camp. The party remained flat on their stomachs and answered _ the volley with deadly effect, four or five of the redskins — falling in the agonies of death. ie They paused not, however, but swept on, approaching — the place on ali sides, Boers, Carl, Will and Gabe kept up a constant fire during the — short time there was, and every shot told. — Ripe A: Sam, the half-breed, had sprung to his feet in his excit ae ment and rushed pell-mell into the advancing horde. to their feet, and wana eee pease = tl Bees,
Page 4
Surrounded upon all sides there seemed little chance of escipe, and presently Will discovered that he had used up his last cartridge. Clubbing his rifle he brained qne brawny savage, but at the next moment the barrel of his weapon was grasped by . a Stalwart Indian, who pulled the lad away from his friends before he could loosen his grasp from the rifle. He was instantly seized by two others and borne rapidly away between them, his arms pinioned to his side and a gag thrust into his mouth. He thought the villains would run his legs off, and at Jast, after what seemed to be an age, he was utterly ex- hausted and fainted dead away. When he came to his senses it was broad daylight, and he was lying on his back, bound and helpless in a little glade, surrounded by a dozen savages. CHAPTER III. A SINGULAR CHARACTER APPEARS ON THE SCENE. SITTING under the shadow of a giant boulder in a wild pass of the Black Hills was a man of most singular appear- ance. _ If he had stood erect he would have measured within two or three inches of seven feet, but a decided stoop which he haa reduced his hight to six feet, three or four inches. He had been in the habit of stooping so long that he was round-shouldered, so much so that he seemed hump- backed, his head being thrust forward in au inquiring sort of way that was very comical. His nose was long, sharp and thin, and his chin seemed ‘to vie with it in all these particulars, particularly as a wiry beard of a fiery red stuck straight out at right angles ‘ to his face, and hightened the effect. His eyes were small and deep-set, surmounted by shagg brows of the same flaming hue as his hair. He was almost entirely bald, but what hair he had would have served as a beacon in a dark night. The man’s face showed great shrewdness of character, albeit a little out of true balance, and a smile constantly SG around his enormous month, that betokened a kind eart. He was big boned, had enormous hands and feet, was k-kneed, round-shouldered and awkward, but inside $ outrageously comical frame he had a heart as big as llock’s, and could be as tender as a woman. was dressed in a pair of faded blue army trousers, skin leggings and moccasins} patched brown coat, the sleeves and collar of which could be seen a white nnel shirt; wore a slouched hat with a very wide brim, -and had a long rifle slung over his shoulder, besides a belt stuck full of revolvers, Bowie knives and tomahawks. This man’s name was Jehiel Splinter, called *Hiel for short, and his occupation was general hunter, wanderer, ‘and philosopher for the government, having once been an army scout, but long since mustered out. *“Chaw me, ef ever I did see sech a ’tarnal go as this yer is! What am I goin’ to do? Let’s see, what does Lord Bigs advise under such circumstances? Aha, I have it: ‘When in doubt, play tramps!’ That’s it, “Hiel, my buck —that’s it.” _ He arose from his position and looked toward the sun, now descending the western slope, accontpanied by a mass _ of gold and purple clouds. 4 _ *Can’t tell for the life which one o’ them _ toted her off, blessed ef I kin. Still— “**In the tempest of life, When the wind and the gale Are in battle and strife, - If thy courage should fail, Sat le ious dim, _ And hy spunk all de pesky bands - LONG-PAW. = are : RiSeoy stad ropalnas the Bash vk ‘What then? Why, ble:s your gizzard, ’Hiel, jest answer the poet in the words o’ Julius Cuesar: << «Never give up the ship.’ ” Suddenly withdrawing his gaze from the sun, the singu- lar being strode off down the mountain side toward a spot where he had seen a wreath of white smoke curling lazily upwards. Ina sort of sing-song tone, which could neither be calle singing nor speaking, he continued: ‘Oh, why does the white man follow my path, Like the hound on the tiger’s track? Oh, why does——’ ” Then he suddenly broke off. ‘‘Music hath charms,” he continued, ‘‘but I’ll de chaw- ed”—one could never tell when his marks of emphasis were coming—‘‘ef it don’t beat me. Go an’ lose a clear trail like that. Gosh! it makes me think of what Deacon Watts says in his hymn-book; “* «There isa tide in the affairs o’ men Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the current o’ their lives Is bound in shallers an’ in miseries.’ “That’s me, right down to a dot. Softly, now, neigh— bor,” he suddenly said to himself; ‘‘thar’s the print of a Injun’s hoof—three on ’em, by gosh, yes, an’ more! By gravy! I have struck it, an’ no mistake. Thar’s the heel 0’ a boy’s boot. They was draggin’ him along, plain enough. Eh! what d’ye call this yer? A bit o’ fringe from his huntin’ shirt.” All this time the man had been making his way rapidity along the path, having reached a narrow stretch of woods, and, while he kept up a running fire of talk, was care— fully examining the ground, bushes, trees and rocks, see- ing distinct signs of the presence of human beings where an ordinary man would have seen nothing. “This yer trail leads to ¢hat thar fire, sure as a b’ar kin foller the smell 0’ honey to a bee tree. As my old friend, Joe Miller, remarks: “« Tow doth the little busy bee Delight to bark an’ bite; To gather honey all the day For bears to eat at night.’ “That's the second edition, but it’s as trne as arith- metic. ‘Them Injuns is agoin’ ter stay all night. They’s ot a white boy wi’ ’em—tell that by the way he turns out nis toes. be my gal is in the lot. *vye made some sign.” Then he began singing softly to himself: “Oh, run to the winder, Sister Ann—Sister Ann, An’ hang a white rag on the blind, So that pretty blamed soon my dear old man May see it, an’ follow behind. “That’s all my own, aided by the poet Bluebeard. ‘Tell ye what, ef I gets my cotton-pickers on one o’ them red nigger’s gullet, he’li think he’s ‘* ‘Softly now the light of day Fades upon my sightaway,’ ~ ‘ As Mr. Bacon says, in his ‘Country Graveyard.” B me, if I ain’t got adead sure aning on them Injuns. — They’d never look for mein the very bo ain—not them. ““<Oh; come to the mountain, my bold brigadier,’ an’ Hope so; but seems ter me she’d Wels o’ the mount- Nobody but a heathen or a Injun ‘toes in. Meb- got the croup. s Zz I'll show ye suthin’ ye didn’t expect. I’ve traveled, Jhey, an’ ye don’t often catch me wi’ my eyes shut. Dmclear grit, no dirt, an’ I assay a hund’ed dollars to theton. ‘Pye roamed every land beneath the blue skies, ___ T’ve crossed all the oceans that ever was made; My travels an’ troubles has made me sowise, _ That, try all your might, you'll not make me afraid SEA eS Fae oF ie 4 7 . re + Sotay, 1 ty
Page 5
\ -Unu-PAIW, 5 “No, sir, not many. U«—ha! the night shudders fall, as the poet lariat says. I kind o’ reckon Tye gone fur enough fur a while, an’ I'll jest lay down here under this __ Jog an’ close my eyes in sweet repose fur one hour an’ ' twenty minutes by the moon, an’ arter that: ; ‘ u ai Lento lt ee Deeper he when the | SESS PESTS SIT STITT et stranger, intimating by signs that he should remain per- fectly sulland not stir from the spot until he returned, stepped within the circle once more. Will saw him reach forward with that long arm, and by its tense position, knew that those powerful fingers had closed over some savage throat. In a minute or so it was withdrawn, and the knife war clasped firmly and thrust forward. In less time than it takes to tell it, the man had changed his position twice, and two more savages bore the ayeng— ing mark of the mysterious Long-Paw. ; uddenly there was a cry of alarm, and the few remain- ing savages sprang to their feet. One of them had awakened just as the deathly grasp had encircled his throat, and had barely time to scream aloud in his terror. In an instant the fatal steel was plunged to the hilt in his heart, and he expired withont a groan. The wlarm had been given, however, and Long-Paw quickly retreated. Catching Will up in one arm, as though he had been but an infant, he rushed rapidly through the tangled un- derbrusn, the Indians in full chase. One glance at their murdered comrades sufficed to tell them of the presence of Long-Paw, and with fierce yells they started in pursuit of him. Vhe man made such rapid progress, however, that it was useless to attempt to follow him in the darkness, and the redskins soon abandoned a chase that could only prove fruitless. After a few minutes, the hunter, evidently convinced that the savages were no longer in pursuit, set Will up- on his feet, and taking one of the boy’s hands in his own gigantic one, led the way at a rapid pace. In the course of, say ten minutes, Will felt himself caught up, and the hunter climbed right up. the face of a rocky ledge, pausing at the hight of about fifteen feet. Then he advanced through a narrow opening, carrying © the boy with him, and presently slid down an incline to quite a considerable distance, bringing up at last at the bottom. Will was then left alone fora moment, while his strange conductor produced a light, disclosing to the boy’s aston. ished gaze a spacious cavern, furnished with comfort, uot to say elegance. j ; There were closets set into the walls, couches of tanned _ skins, a large center table covered with the skins of ped foxes, two or three comfortable chairs, a large fireplace, one corner, on a heavy bar of oak, was draped a rabbit~_ skin curtain, arranged in such a manner as to show that there was another apartment beyond. Will then turned his attention to the occupant of this singular place of abode. sD) ; e was not the giant he had imagined him to be, stand- ing about six feet only; but his arms were very long and muscular, and his hands, particularly his right, was as bi as two ordinary ones, being covered on the back’ wi thick black hair, while the palms were ss tough and wiry as parchment. The man wore a full black beard, not very long, and his black hair clustered in his neck, not reaching his shoul— ders. - 7 He had a kindly expression, and in a moment he said, in a voice of singular softness: «“Welcome to the home of Long—Paw!” CHAPTER V. WILL AND THE HUNTER—CARL’S RESCUE—GABE’S SURPRISE. , “So you are the mysterious hunter, Long—Pay. 7” s id Will, seating himself upon a pileofskins. = BECY Gx nate : 7s ‘ Bees, fate dt haf
Page 6
“T have heard of you.” «From the Indians?” **Yes, and from whites.” “Did Gabe Harris tell you of me?” ‘He did. Do you know him?” “T know who he.s. I tried to prevent the attack upon yon, but was delayed.” ‘*Have you seen the rest of our party?” ‘No, though I am upon their trail.” ‘Was Carl captured?” «T think so.” During this conversation Will had a chance to note more particularly the appearance of the man before him, and to observe his peculiarities of dress and manner more carefully | than at first. 2 He was arrayed, backwoods fashion, in a complete suit of buckskin, with a coonskin cap surmounting his head, and carried a rifle across his shoulder, while a long and remarkably keen knife was stuck in his belt. He did not talk with that peculiar drawl habitual with most frontiersmen, but with an accent and enunciation that proved him to be a man of education and good breed- . ing. : His eyes were piercing, but had none of that wild look which is supposed to indicate insanity; in fact, the whole bearing of the man would indicate that his mind was par- ticularly well-balanced. Will desired to know more of this singular being, and presently, in a careless manner, as if it was a matter of perfect indifference to him, he said: “Your name is a singular one, though I can see its ap- propriateness. You were not always called by it?” ce | “You have lived among whites?” “{Yesiz 1 «Vately?” ang SSN 0.” Eee have no wish to return to civilization?” ; . Soon?” : ‘‘When my mission is accomplished.” ‘People may have forgotten you.” ~ “Tt matters not.” “Or they may think you dead.” “TJ desire that they should.” “Does any one know your real name in these parts?” ‘No,” he added, slowly, and with emphasis, ‘‘andI do intend that they shall.” ‘I would like to know it.” € man gazed earnestly at the speaker, fixing his eyes ently upon him, saying, at last: “Tt is not idle curiosity that impels you, I know that, and J like your face. Some day I will reveal myself to you. Notnow, though. You are weary and need rest. Lie down here, and in the morning I will awake you.” ¢ Thus admonished Will stretched himself upon the » couch, and was soon in a profound slumber.. 1 While he sleeps let us repair to a more distant part of - the forest. _ A party of Indians are encamped about a little fire, and _ two of them are on guard. or supposed to be, although ee nodding heads betoken that they are remiss in their duty. f : % : A white boy is standing against a tree, strong ‘cords binding his arms and legs and preventing his escape. _ he prisoner is Carl Berger, Will Baxter's chum and traveling companion. __ He isin the same predicament from which Will has just been rescued. : : Ps ane. worn out by his long tramp, his In- aving hurried him along unmercifully dur- nf TS plete a gleaming knife is oh sunk to the Woy” Anatee bay pi LONG-PAI. There was notai tly t tive EEN The other sentinel is served in the same manner, und then a shadowy form creeps toward him, and severs the thongs that bind him. “The reaction froma constrained position to freedom is so great that he nearly sinks to the ground, and would, ud not the man seize him by the armand: bear him rapid- y away. . Who are you?” murmured Carl. ‘©?*Sh, don’t say nothin’ now, wait till we get out o’ the way 0’ these pesky varmints.” He hurried Carl away at a quick pace, and in abont half an hour pushed open a door of what seemed to be a rude cabin, and entered, followed by Carl. ‘Who are you?” asked the boy. ‘Never mind; I’m a friend, and that’s all you want to kuow fur the present. The Injuns knows me well enough.” ‘You are Long—Paw, the mysterious hunter.” ‘‘Waal, I never said I wasn’t, did I.” _ “Why don’t you light up.” ‘Kase I don’t choose, that’s why. a snooze.” “Tell me, are my friends safe?” ‘‘Waal, I reckon they is; now go to sleep.” ‘‘Where are they?” ‘J'll tell ye that in the morrin’, but I ain’t goin’ to say nothin’ more; so you mought ez waal take a snooze,” The man then retired into an inner room whence Cari could hear him muttering at intervals, and, finally, seeing that nothing more was to be learned that night,*Carl lay down upon the floor and fell asleep. Upon this same night old Gabe Harris .the scout was . making his way cautiously through the wood, never stir-_ ring a leaf or snapping a twig, and keeping his hand con- stantly on the trigger of his rifle. ‘T’]l be stumped ef them red niggers gets away them boyees,” he muttered. ‘‘H’m, I kin smell the smoke 07 ther camp fire now, though I’l “low I didn’t think it wur so near.” He advanced cautiously, and after a few moments came upon a rocky ledge at the base of which Jay a dozen In- dians sound asleep, in their midst a figure clothed in Lay down and take buckskin and having a white face. ‘‘Thar’s one on ’em,” whispers Gabe, and stepping age lightly as a cat over the sleeping forms, he cuts the bonds oF the captive, and as, he wakes up, cautions him to be — silent. pat He lifts the form in his arms and is stepping lightly | back, when his foot strikes against one of the savages. The man awakes with a yell and Gabe darts away carry- ing the insensible form of the captive on his shoul er, ond firing shot after shot at the red fiends. Tag At last when out of danger he lays the still senseless — form on the sward, and tears open its shirt to admit the — air. : ‘‘Jernsalem!” he mutters, in surprise. P Ne “Tt’sa gal ye - CHAPTER VI. Swen =e DICK BRAND AND HIS GANG—THE TRAIN ATTACKED, — Fe In atumble-down sort of shanty built against a blu and connecting with a small cave dug out from the rocks. by the light of a cquple of blazing pine knots, sat a dozen” desperate-looking men. ages They were outlaws,every one of them—renegades, ho thieves, murderers, road agents and general cutthroats. They were all uh armed, and looked capable of shoo ing a man without the slightest compunctions. ‘Phey all sat on rough pine benches around a ric ble on which stood a jug, from which they helped selves at frequentintervals. Spee tae ing to drink from except nd consequently they were obliged to reso ut perfectly the jug bs ren)
Page 7
LONG-PAW. 7% with one hand, swinging it around and letting it rest on the crooked elbow, while the nozzle was applied to the mouth. ‘the jug circulated freely, and at last became considera- bly lighter in weight, the heads of the party observing the same quality, although from the quantity of rum which _ has gone into them, one would suppose they would increase in weight. The leader of this gang of ruffians is a low-browed, crime-stained wretch, by the name of Dick Brand,his prin- cipal coadjutor being one Hiram Look, a notorious road agent and horsethief. “Fill up the jug, Bet,” said Dick, after drinking the last drop; and « wretched old hag, who had sat in the remot- est corner of the kutall this time, hobbled forward, took the jug, retired with it into the cave, presently returning with it full, and smacking her thin lips, still wet with the vile\stuff. “You say the train passed the foot of the hills at dark, did you, Dan?’ asked Dick. ‘*Yes, and bound this way.” «They will rest for the might?” “Certain. [’ll bet a quart o’ rum we'll find ’em now in one o’ the hollers.” «Then suppose we go fur ’em.” «“That’s hearty. There’s lots o’ good stuff, money and horses an’ nice pretty gals there, an’ all fur the askin’.” ‘We'll take em without askin’,” remarks Hiram. ‘‘Who ever heard tell o’ our askin’ fur anythin’? Wil: ye go ar— ter ’em, Dick?” ; ‘Course; come along.” The villains sauntered out into the night and followed Dick along the rocky pass in silence, while the howl of a mountain wolf seemed to give warning of their approach. This band of desperadoes was noted for its lawless deeds, and there was not one that did not merit the gallows. Meanwhile the men of the train, all unconscious of their peril, slept tranquilly, leaving two or three on guard. These were sitting around the fire smoking and spin- ning yarns, when suddenly with a yell that would have done credit to an Indian, the whole party came down upon the camp, firing a volley. The sentinels were shot dead and instantly plundered, while the wretches attacked the helpless women and chil- dren, killing the old and feeble, braining the babies, and committing crimes which cannot be named. The attack was so sudden that before the sleeping men could tell what had happened the tents were on fire, the horses stampeded, the ygung boys and girls carried off, and more than half their number dead. They rallied quickly and fired upon the retreating demons, but a cerisive yell was all the answer. One man of middle age was almost overcome with grief. His boy, a manly lad of fourteen, and his sister, a year or so older, had been carried away, his wife killed by the inhuman wretches, his horses run off, and himself reduced to beggary. Joseph Drayton had made considerable money in the east, and had determined to emigrate west and join a _ brother who was getting rich by sheep-raising. Now he was penniless, and worse than that, deprived of mite and children, for whom he knew a terrible fate was in store. = He dared not think to what a horrible, shameful treat- ment his poor Annie would be subjected, nor what his brave Jack might suffer in trying to defend her; he could only deplore his hard fate and try to console those who had been as unfortunate as himself, and devise plans | oe for the future. : ‘‘T recognized some of the party,” said one old man, ‘for Pye seen em in the east.. Dan Johnson and Phil _ Drowne I know were in the gang.” ~ “And Dick Brand,” said another, the scout of the party. ho, fortunately, had not been killed. “Them ere fellers is wuss’n Injins—they’re reg’lar devils. I knows ’em well, an’ I’d like ter git a crack at Dick once.” Nothing could be done until morning, when it was de- cided to push on and summon assistance, as the gang, of ruffians was a large one, those engaged in the attack being only a small portion, but the worst portion, withal. The robbers retreated to their den, bearing their prison- ers, and these were thrown indiscriminately together in the inner cavern, the brutes occupying the remainder of the night in noisy, drunken revelry. . Jack aud Annie Drayton were by themselves in one corner, and when all was quiet, Jack crept closer to his sister’s side and whispered: ‘‘Annie dear, I’ve got a plan.” «What is it, Jack?” “JT am afraid that these scoundrels will ill-treat you in the morning. I am going to give you my suit of buckskin to put on, and you must give me your dress and other things.” ‘What for?” ‘‘You will be safer if they think youare a boy. Youcan tuck your hair up under my cap. 1am not afraid of their hurting me, and I have an idea that they will turn all the boys loose to shift for themselves in the morning. T heard one of them say that boys were only a nuisance.” *T daren’t go out alone.” “You must. You can make your way to the camp, and I will follow as soon as they find out who I am.” The poor girl said nothing, but in a few moments, when Jack threw her his clothes in the darkness, she removed her own and put on his. In the morning, as Jack had supposed, the poor girl was thrust out in company with two or three boys, to make their way as best they might, unarmed and unpro- tected. Toward noon they were fallen upon by a party of In~ dians, who soon divided, each gang taking one of the pris- oners. At night the poor girl was secured between two of the savages and fell asleep from sheer weariness, her dreams being troubled and her sleep feverish. CHAPTER VII. OLD GABE ASTONISHED—JACK’S ESCAPE—A RUMOR. “Tord ’a massy,” muttered old Gabe. ‘‘Dang mévefyh. didn’t think it were one o’ them boyees, an’ arter all its a gal. Dontee git frighted, missy,” he continued, poor thing opened her eyes. “‘Ise not goin’ ter hu lowed if1am. My name’s Gabe Harris, an’ ’m squar’, ~ ? Tam.’ <‘Where am I?” said the rescued one, sitting up. <Wull—wull. If I hedn’t knowed ye was a gal afore, 'd ’a knowed it now, fur nobody but a reg’lar female says: “Where am I” when anythin’ happens.” <©You hayen’t told me yet,” answered the young girl, — with a laugh. i : ‘ $1 “Why, dless yer heart, ye’re here; right here wi’ me, — old Gabe Harris. How’d the pesky critters come to git — hold on ye, anyhow?” a ‘You are a friend?” : . “Ye kin jest bet yer boots I is. I war lookin’ fur a lad what was captured, an’ I thought you was him, sein’ that — rig out. What’s yer name, little gal?” | <¢Annie Drayton.” “Any relation ter old Joe?” ‘‘He’s my father.” ; “‘Wull—wull, I’d never’ve thunked it. How did yehap- — pn to be togged out in this fash’in?” bees es Annie told him of Jack’s ruse, and of the attack by the — ruffians. Migs. ate 2 “Wall, I never did! That brother 0’ you’rn "ga artist, |
Page 8
LONG-PAW. he is. He'll make his mark, I tell yer. But I say, d’ye think ye cud stan’ a leetle more walkin’ ter night?” “7 think so.” «‘Kase there’s a frien’ o’ mine which has a hnt not fur from yer, an’ I thunk it'll be safer fur us to git in thar, *stid o’ stayin’ out in the woods all night. Ye don’t mind a leetle tramp?” **No.” “All right, then, we’ll go fur it.” Old Gabe thereupon set off on his journey, taking An- nie’s hand to prevent her falling, saying “but little, as he knew not if the Indians might be about. While he is on his way, let us return to Jack. The villains did not discover his identity until noon, at which time Dick attempted to embrace the supposed irl. Jack struck the scoundrel a blow in the mouth which drew blood, and in a voice, utterly unfeminiae, advised the brute to keep his distance. Jack’s secret was at once discovered, and the villains were furious at the trick whicli had been played upon them. The dress was torn from the lad’s back, but in his un- derclothes and shoes he made a rush for the door, seized a pistol from Hiram’s belt, and sending a snower of. bullets among the crowd, dashed ont and made his escape. He tried to follow the direction of the train, but he soon got lost in the woods, and wandered on aimlessly until dark. : Then he suddenly fell in with a creature of singular love ness. ‘us was a white girl, dressed in a fanciful costume made of tanned deerskin, and trimmed with beads, wearing moccasins on her feet, a jaunty cap with a feather in it, on her head, and a neat little rifle slung across her shoulders. ‘*You are not an Indian?” said Jack, advancing. ‘“No, Iam called the White Lily. My name is Lilly, and I live in the mountains.” ‘“My name is Jack Drayton, and I am looking for my friends. We were attacked by Dick Brand, last night.” ‘Dick Brand? He is a renegade, and a villain. I think I can bring you to your friends, or one of them—a young man rescued from the Indians.” “Do you know his name?” ‘No; but you must come and see him.” When Will Baxter awoke in the morning he found Long- Paw getting breakfast. arose and washed himself, and after giving thanks s deliverence satdown at the table upon which the r had placed some smoking viands. : that moment the hangings he had noticed were ed aside, and a young girl curiously dressed, entered he cavern. This is mycompanion in my solitude,” said Long-Paw. _ The Lily of the woods.” _. *£Does she live with yon?” oy a Rad ‘She is your daughter?” asked Will, in surprise. **No; she has no other friends in the world. Her whole _ family was slain by the accursed redskins. Bitterly have _ I repaid their lives; there is sorrow in many a lodge be- _ cause of Long-Paw. My mission is not yet ended, The _ Yillain Brand still lives, my boy is not found, my pitiless brother.is not punished.” ; Then, as if aware that he had told too much, the sin- _ gular being relapsed into silence, and never uttered a __ word the rest of the day. _ Will remained in the cavern all the time, having little to do, but soon after dark Lilly returned with a boy she + had found in the woods, — - At first, Will thought it was Carl, and running to him clasped him in-his arms, but when he saw his. mistake ee Ne they both laughed. ; ‘I’m pleased. that somebody is glad to see me,” said Jack. ‘‘I thought you might be Harry or George or Tom, my friends. You haven’t seen them?” “T have seen no one. My chum, Carl Berger, was car— ried off by the Indians, and I am afraid I will never see him again.” “Wait,” said Long-Paw, entering at that moment, having been absent for several hours. ‘What do you mean?” “Wait and you will see.” Nothing more was said, and the whole party sat down to supper, the two boys chatting as gaily as if.they had known each other all their lives. Soon after the meal was finished, Long-Paw arose and left the cavern. The boys and Lilly were talking together earnestly when Will heard a cry. Looking around he saw two boys, one of whom rushed upon him and nearly devoured him. Tt was Carl. The other seemed as delighted to see Jack, and Will concluded that it was one of his boyish companions. His surprise at seeing Carl was hardly over when old Gabe Harris approached with Long-Paw. “Wull—wull,” said the old fellow. ‘This yer’s what I calls a happy meetin’. Glad ter see yer enj’yin’ yer- selves. That’s right. So thisis whar yer lives, is it, Long-Paw? Wull, I’ll be cussed :f it ain’t tidy. Gimme suthin’ to eat, for ’m hungry asa b’ar.” s CHAPTER VIII. IN THE CAVE—MYSTERIOUS EVENTS. *Hien SpLintER, after taking Carl to his hut, turned in and did not appear until the next morning. Then he awoke the boy by his singing: <¢ <The moon is beamin’ o’er the lake, Come sail in my light canoe—oo-00, Sweet sounds-of music we’ll awake, , As we sail o’er the waters blue-o0-00! ‘As Daniel Webster wisely remarks to Davy Jones: *¢©A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.’ I didn’t find the gal arter all, them confounded pesky critters must ’ve done itfust. That boy’s a genius, though, for he must *ve knowed I was comin’. Don’t see how I mixsed the trail o’ them black-hearted cusses, blast *em. Wait till I get my paw on’em an’ they'll think the old Nick’s to pay: ‘*<Old Yankee Doodle rode to town, On a yaller pony — Halloo, the boy’s waked up. has he? Who’s that knockin” on the door? *T'ain’t mornin’ yet.” : He went to the door, the first grey streaks of dawn just appearing, and was greeted with: ‘‘Halloo, ye old poetry book! changed hain’t ye? Went to tother place, didn’t fin come here. Got a comrade, a lady.” ‘What, you, Gabe Harris! Wet are ye doin’ in these. yer parts? Phd lodgin’s, ye an’ so [ «*<Tis years since we hey met, An’ we may not meet ag’in, Lhev struggled to furget,’ but I’ll be doggoned if I kin. Give us your bread hook. As Shake says, old Bill Shake, you know: ‘¢ « Breathes there a man with soul so dead What never to his friend has said,’ I’m blamed glad ter see yer. This is a gal is it? By darn, — Gabe, it’s the very one J were lookin’ ee ae 1 : Ole Joe Dray- 4 ‘ ton’s gal. Bloody Dick—I hate him like p’izen an’ll kill — i
Page 9
him some day—he war goin’ fur the gal I knowed, an’ 1 lost the trail, darn my 01g fist.” ‘Well, *Hiel, she got away arter all, an’ Dick is swearin’ mad, they say. Was you on Dick’s track?” **Qourse. <Ain’tI allus? I'll throttle him some day an’ put a mark on him. I knowed the gal was took, an’ set out fur ter find her an’ I run across another feller; come in—come in— «¢ Stan’ not upon the order of yer comin’ But come at onct,’ as Johnny Milton says in his poem of ‘Hamlet and the Ghost.? Chaw me ef I ain’t glad ter see yer. Come in; this young feller here goes by the name o’ Carl, he’s a Dutchman, but—— «<The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon, Where gottest thou that goose look?” as Sir Isaac Newton once remarked te John Smith,” he continued, suddenly breaking into quotations. The cause of this was that Gabe was staring at Carl with all his eyes, the latter returning the stare. i - “Well, Pll be cussed,” said Gabe, ‘‘ef you hain’t found one o’ the chaps I war lookin’ for! Glad tosee you, Carl; wher’s yer chum?” “T don’t know.” rats ‘Where is he, old seven-by-nine?” asked Gabe of the iant. ? ne “Time and the hour will show. Verily, the times air out 0’ jint,’ as Coleridge has 1t.” *So’s your brain, old goat-beard! Where hey ye put him?” “Verily, I will tell thee anon; the day is not yet. ‘¢ Sail on, silver moon, o’er the dark blue sea, Bid the storm-king stay his hand, An’ bring my Willy back to me, To his own dear native land.’ Have patience yet a little, Master Gabriel; sit down and eat,” for all this time, as he rambled on, he had been get— ting breakfast; ‘‘and when the night star is shining I will conduct ye tohim. What does Herodotus say? Observe: << ‘'Twinkle—twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are, Up above the world so high, Like a gimerack in the sky. ‘When the blazin’ sun is sot, When the day stops gittin’ hot, Then you h’ist yer little light— Twinkle—twinkle all the night.’” “*Hiel Splinter, you’ve gone clean crazy—wuss nor I even seed ye afore. Ef it waren’t fur yer long p——” «*Sh!” said the man; ‘‘none of that. Tell you what, Gabe, I’ve got business. I’m just a-layin’ for a feller that Sam Baxter hired to kill his brother. I’ve got him down fine. Then there’s a gal——’ <“‘Baxter?” said Carl, suddenly. ‘Sam Baxter? That’s Will’s uncle; do you know anything about him?” ‘No, nothin’,” said the strange man, and sitting at the table he began eating yoraciously. _ In a few moments he sprang to his feet. ‘Wait till I come back!” he said, and then dashed out _ of the hut. He did not return until near dark, and then he hurried them away along the mountain passes, until just at night- fall he halted before a precipitous ledge of rock, and said: “Wait!” : f Then he sprang up by means of hanging vines, and disappeared. : ; _ The surprised travelers waited for about ten minutes, when suddenly a form shot down the cliff and stood be- fore them. - : It was not the eccentric giant, but a man still more mysterious, to wit: Long-Paw, the hunter. ‘ LONG-PAW. ‘You are welcome,” he said. ‘‘Follow me.” He led the way up the cliff, Gabe assisting Annie, and presently they all stood in the cave, and then oc- curred the reunion already described. Jack Drayton received his clothes from Annie, the latter being provided for by Lily, and then they all sat down and enjoyed a hearty supper. Long- Paw did not seem to like the society of whites, and he soon withdrew into some inner cavern, and did not emerge again that night. The various members of the party recounted their ex- periences, and then Carl said: aN “JT think, Will, that your preserver and mine are the same person—that Splinter and Long-Paw are one and the same.’ “Maybe so. . I saw him this morning early, and then he went away for all day. Your man went away and came back, and then disappeared in this caye, and emerged as Long-Paw.” «They must be the same,” said Jack, ‘‘thongh the man has disguises, of course.” ‘Waal, I guess yon’re about right,” said Gabe; “‘but in the ch’racter of Long-Paw I’ve never seed much o’ the cuss. It’s allus been as *Hiel Splinter. Will Baxter, is your uncle’s name Sam?” ‘*Ves,?? ‘‘Then this-feller what the Injuns is afeard on is aware o’ suthin that interests you. He says yer dad was hired to be murdered by yer uncle.” “Impossible!” said Will. “Tis a fact!” said a voice which seemed to ccme from the roof. “He is doomed.” Looking up, they saw the hairy hand of the hunter pro- truding from some crevice in the rock high above their heads, and grasping a long, glittering knife. CHAPTER IX. ON THE MARCH—MORE MYSTERIES. In the morning, the party, upon awakening, found food on the table, and a scrapof paper on which were written these words: ‘Ihe man Splinter will act as guide. I haye gone to finish my mission. Do not follow. ‘‘Lona-Paw.” EER was very much excited, and declared’ that they ought 5 Will did not think much abont the matter, but o have spoken to the mysterious man, and asked for an planation of his strange words the night before. While they were at breakfast, Lilly entered. Walking up to Carl, she said, impressively: *sYou had a sister once?” ‘Yes; but she and my parents were killed by Indians.” ‘‘Not so; she was spared and was rescued by Long-Paw. The. hunter has told me that I am Margherita Berger, called also the White Lily. You are my brother.” _ Gan this be possible?” murmured Carl. ‘Upon my word, I can see a strong resemblance,” said Will. ‘‘Can you not, also, Jack?” “Indeed Ican; I noticed it before, but now that you speak of it, I see it more plainly than before.” ‘‘Pray Heaven it may be so,” said Carl. ‘Tell me, do ,you remember your father?” “T remember a tali, fair-haired man with long mus— tache and silky oeard who used to hold me in his arms, ~ . bY ers i . ‘?Tis he—tis he,” said Carl; excitedly. “He always and when I would pull his beard, he wouldlaugh, and say ‘Ach Gott, Gretchen, der must nicht.’ ” called her Gretchen, which is the German for Margherita. — Heaven be praised, I have found vou at last.” The long-separated brother and sister were clasped in a £:
Page 10
LONG-PAW. 1 ee long and loving embrace, and not an eye was not moisten— ed with tears. ' “Waal, I declar’, ef this ain’t funny,” said Gabe, wip- ing his eyes. ‘Sounds just like a story book. Shonldn’t wonder ef I wasfound to be a poor lone orphan myself. Makes me feel jest asif I war, durned ef it don’t.” This produced a laugh, and suddenly a voice was heard singing:. “Through the wood—through the wood, foller and find me, ‘ S’arch every holler and dingle an’ dell, Wherever I go I leave no track behind me, So he that would foller must s’arch fur me well.’ - **Ye’re jist about right thar, as Davy Crockett says to the king 0’ Holland. Verily, are ye ready to start?” They all looked up and saw the eccentric Splinter stand- ing at the entrance of the cave. ““Ho—ho, my comrades,” he said, in his quaint tones, “‘make haste to depart, for the day waxes hot. In the im- mortal words of Lord Chesterfield, when giving advice to his son: <«<Onct more unto the breach. ‘ There’s nuthin’ like spunk in time o’ war, Therefore, good friends, I say, upon ’em, Pile up ther ditches with ther dead, Stan’ to yer posts like brave men, An’ hang the ’tarnal critters high, You bet, higher’n Heaven!’ which I mean fur to say, dropping poetry, that we mought meet some pesky Injuns, an’ we’ve got ter lick’em clean outer ther slippers, so pack up yer duds an’ git.” ‘Have you seen Long—Paw?” asked Wilt. earnestly. “Now ye’re shoutin’! I are seen him an’ he says fur ter : poll up stakes an’ git. Bum-by, in the futur’, ye may see im ag’in, but ef ye stay aroun’ yer any longer, ye’ll git blowea to Kingdom Come!” «““What do you mean?” «That ther’s a powder magazine in t’?other cave, an’ the fuse is aillit an’ will connect in jest ten minits an’ twenty seconds by the sun, an’ then, away goes the hull durned business, an’ verily the place thereof shall never know him more; old copy-book, ahem!” : The party lost no time in getting away from the place, and in ten minutes were well upon their way. uddenly a booming sound was heard, “el looking back, party saw, through a gap in the trees, afeavy cloud of ite smoke, which was instantly followed’ by a sulphur- odor. , Why has he destroyed his house?” said Will. *Bekase he has left itfur ever and a day,” answered _ ?Hiel. ‘‘Verily the time is come when all.things what ye _ don’t un’erstan’ shall be made cl’ar. “Ef Sir Thomas Moore _ truly says: i __ **There is more things in Heaven and earth, Horatio, _.than you or I has any idea of; consequently, it’s a durned “sight better ter stan’ what troubles we has here,’ meanin’, as I take it, this mundane spear of our’n, ‘than ter git mad an’ try it somewheres else.” Don’t it strike you that way, old sixpenny?” **You’re a wonderful man, ’Hiel,” said Will, laughing. **Where did you pick up so much information?” **T kin tell-ye in two words, and them two words is these: school teachin’!” _ *Did you ever teach school?” “You are got it now, young man, an nododgin’. I tort the young idea how to shoot, by means o’ the spellin’ book - and the birch roc, particularly the birch, ’way off into the state o’ Maine.” ; _. “Maine?” thought Will. “Gabe said Long-Paw came rom Maine. Then addressing the strange fellow, he con _*Did you know Long-Paw in Maine?” __ = se The two must be one person.” ; Kinued: ‘*As Sir Horace Walpole remarks: <« ‘T had a brother onct, a precious boy, He war the apple o’ my eye; ; I never knowed what fun was When he warn’t near, an’ erstwhile, I never liked to git licked ef he Wasn’t a standin’ by.’ ‘*That’s blank verse, an’ deuced blankitare, too; which reminds me that what I meant ter say was, that Paul Bax Long-Paw, excuse me, war the chap as had a brother, an’ I knowed him fur a mean, sneakin’ cuss, an? when him an’ me emigrated, I says: ** «That ’ere Sam Baxter means mischief, an’if he does, there’]l be some one in his ha’r an’ that’ll be ’Hiel Splinter or I’m out of my reckonin’,’” Before Will could express the thoughts that seemed ready to choke him before the words could come, Gabe suddenly uttered a shrill yell. He was in advance of the party, and running up to him | they beheld an Indian, choked to death and bearing the fatal arrow on his breast, the blood yet warm. * “Good Heaven!” muttered Will. ‘Does this strange being possess a double life?” CHAPTER X. LONG3PAW’S VENGEANCE—THREE LUCKLESS BOYS, THE outlaw, Dick Brand, and three or four of his des- perate companions, were riding along the mountain passes, ~ the same road as that traversed by our friends, and on the same morning. The night before their hut had been attacked by Indians, . and burned to the’ ground, their prisoners set free, and they themselves forced to seek safety in flight. This was strange, because Dick had always been on good terms with the savages, and had betrayed many a party of whites into their hands. He could not account for it, out there was no time for that, and so here he was, seeking a new home, and cursing the treachery of the Sioux, thinking never a word of the many base betrayals to which he had been a party. He had a flask of whiskey in his belt, and as he rode on he took frequent potations, the others following his exam- ple, as they were similarly provided. “It’s a hard shake, cuss me if it isn’t!” muttered Dick, at length. ‘Got to start out afresh; take a new grip. Consarn those Injuns, they never went back on me afore. Burn me if I can make it ont!” ‘TT reckon they thought Long-Paw war wi’ us, Dick,” suid Hiram Look; ‘‘’cause I heard ’em shoutin’ out ter — kill him if nobody else.” ree “Faith they did kill somebody else!” swore Dick. “Dan _ and Bob and ‘Tom and a dozen others are gone. Tllbeta plug o’ terbacker that the condemned hunter hisself made _ the brutes think he war there, an’ that’s what made’emso _ fierce.” ay ‘‘Shonldn’t wonder,” said Hiram. siete “Cuss him—him an’ me has got an old score ter settle,” growled Dick, ‘‘an’ the sooner it’s done the better.” eas poe are right!” said a voice. Pipers t that instant a mounted figure appeared in the op before them. bt ah ee There was no mistaking that form. cee It was Long-Paw, the mysterious hunter. 3 Bae had a rifle to his shoulder and his ick. ‘‘We will settle the claim now, Dick,” said the hunter. — “Get popes ready, for I shallfire in ten seconds.” Die winpoed out his revolver on the instant, and let drive at the hunter. : “te Them there came a puff of white smoke, and a port. There was a cry of Agony, Dick threw up his aim was upon — ‘and fell from the sad
Page 11
“Now, Hiram Look, it’s your turn.” The man turned to flee, but the fatal bullet, striking him in the back of the head, ended his wicked career. ‘Now, Ralph Sturgis, you were one of the band, and it’s your turn.” The man fell upon his knees and begged ior mercy. The hunter was piti:ess. The rifle arose to his shoulder once more, the sharp report rang out upon the air, and the wretca dropped dead. There was but one man left, and he expecting the same fate, threw himself from his horse, and screamed for quar- ter. “Be quiet!” said Long-Paw, sternly. ‘‘I don’t want your life. ‘These men were murderers,and worse than that. They dragged my wife and babes from their beds, for hire, and murdered them! God in Heaven! ’*twas a sight to make. the angels weep! The inhuman dogs, that was not all they did! My blood runs cold when I think of it. Upon them and the Indians who helped them I have wreaked a terrible vengeance. Just now I meta chief—his hand it was that killed my youngest, and I strangled him!” “For God’s sake don’t hurt me!” whined the villain. “Get up!? commanded Long—Paw, in contemptuous tones. ‘You area murderer, I know, but you had no part in the deed that I avenge. Go! If you are found Within a hundred miles of this place by to-morrow noon, Twill shoot you‘on sight. Go!’ : The man needed no second warning, and mounting his horse, he fled incontinently. “So, the villains are all dead,” muttered the man of mystery. ‘‘All but he whoinspired them to the vile deed. He lives yet, but his time is coming. Now to seem boy, the last of all. Thank God that the villain spared him, but even that shall not save him from my vengeance.” __ An hour afterward our party came upon the bodies of the dead outlaws, and wondered much at the sight. *Hiel said nothing, merely giving a grunt, and the party passed on. 5 In the afternoon they heard a sound of firearms, and they hastened with all possible speed—not being mounted —to learn what it might mean. Before they discover, let us go back once more. _ Three white boys, stripped almost naked, and tied, face ‘upward, to the backs of three fierce steeds, were being led -along the mountain. The hot sun poured down upon their unprotected. bod- jes and scorched their tender skin, the cruel cords cut in- to their white flesh. and the clotted blood upon their limbs showed where thorns had scratched them, or where thes sharp knives and arrows of the red devils had pierced. The lads were the friends of Jack Drayton, the different parties having come together once more for the sake of rotection against the terrible Long-Paw, who was said to be abroad. The poor boys were strapped to the backs of the wild steeds, and the savages were about toset them loose for the _ sport of seeing their sufferings. "3 - “Inyain the poor lads begged to be killed at once, that their sufferings might end then and there; the fiends only ~ launched and struck them in the faces with their fists. ge Morton, who had lost both parents in the attack npon the camp, and whom Jack liked best of all, turned to the savages and said: = ! “Tf ever I hoped for anything, I hope the lightning will i qaike you fiends dead, and that the wolves wi bones.” ; 1 pick your hat not one man, or anybody belonging to him, raham, another of the boys. f the iot, said nothing, but precipi drive “4 : he + LONG-PAW. down the pass, when a shot was heard, and the chief say- : age fell dead. Rt In an instant Long-Paw himself was upon them! CHAPTER XI. THE SAVAGES ROUTED—REUNIONS AND SEPARATIONS, ‘*YIELD, villains, yield!” yelled the hunter, shooting down another savage. The rest closed in upon him, and it seemed as if he would be killed, when suddenly a ringing cry was heard, and a dozen whites burst upon the redskins, and began an indiscriminate slaughter, giving no mercy and asking none. 'The firing was heavy and incessant, and was that heard by the boys and old Gabe. The latter soon reached the spot, and seeing how mat- ters stood, immediately took a hand. The savages, seeing further reinforcements, and not knowing how many more there might be, endeavored to — escape. They were surrounded, and those who were not killed outright, were hurled down the cliffs to be food for vul- tures. Some were not killed by the fall, though they were too much disabled to escape, and there. they hung, *twixt earth and sky, to die a lingering death. One had been caught by the breech cloth on the branch of a tree that hung over the precipice, many feet below, and there he was, unable to get away, and fearing to all. He had been nearly disemboweled by the thick branches rouge which he had fallen, and his condition was indeed pitiful. He would probably live four or five hours, suffering all the torments of the lost, unless the limb should chance to pes or his garment give way, neither of which seemed ikely. 2 One of the whites wanted to kill him at once, but Long- Paw said sternly that the red imp must suffer, andsohe was left in his agony. | Not one of the ertire party of Indians was spared, every — man being killed at once, or hurled down the abyss, and in a short time the whites were alone. _ z ay The three boys were rescued from their perilous strait, a aes Tom was found to have been killed by a chance bullet. $ The luckless boy had indeed been delivered from his enemies, delivered from all earthly cares and yexation: delivered from pain and suffering to find rest in Heayen, = Jack was delighted to meet not only his old chums, Harry and George, but to find his father, also, whom he had thought dead pages oe The other two boys were restored to their friends, and a scene of rejoicing, such as is seldom witnessed, took — lace. : eae : Upon seeing both Long-Paw and Hiel Splinter at the - same time, old Gabe was forced to acknowledge that — they were separate persons, and not one individual, as he had stoutly maintained. kee Will’s mind was also set at rest upon this point, but there was another which still caused him anxiety. : That was to learn what relation Long-Paw sustained to — his father. ice When the fight was over, and the march was once mo resumed, he looked for the man, but saw no signs of either — him or the eccentric Splinter. Ate He and Carl concluded that it would be best for them: sf .
Page 12
LONG-PAW. > Carl, and could not bear to think of separation, and so ’ Carl remained. Will was equally fond of Carl’s sister—the White Lily, as she was still called—and the five boys were all sworn friends in a few minutes, and rode in a body, the horses of the Indians having been captured and appropriased by the emigrants. Old Gabe guided the party. and did it well, being well acquainted with the country. t the end of a week they were well-beyond the mount- ains, and still nothing had been seen of the two strangely- assorted hunters. Early one morning Gabe told Will and Carl that their route would now have to be changed if they desired to go to San Francisco. As he had been engaged by them, he considered it his duty to continue with them; and he expressed this to the emigrants, who were sorry to leave him, and they tried to persuade the boys to go with them. fuch as Will and Carl would have liked to do this they felt that they ought to follow out their original plan, par- ticularly as situations were open to them in the city as soon as they should arrive. Suddenly, when the matter was being discussed, Long- Paw appeared as if fallén from the clouds. «J will tuke the boys to their destination,” he said; ‘‘my way lies thither.” “Then I’ll go with the rest,” said Gabe, ‘‘pervided as how the boys will let me. If that half-breed of 2 Sam had shown up he could pilot ’em, but I guess he’s been scalped long since by his angry brethren, cuss “em!” You may go, Gabe,” said Will. ‘We shall get along now all right.” “You will not forget me?” said Carl, to Annie Drayton, as they were about to part company. ‘No, indeed,” said Jack; ‘‘neither will I, nor the boys, will we?” “No,” said George and Harry. “Tell you what, Will,” said Harry, earnestly, and with tears in his eyes, ‘‘tnese are my friends, but my poor father and mother are dead, and I believe I will go with ou and try my luck in the city. I’m a city boy, anyhow, Raving been raised in Boston, and I think I will go with you, though I shall be sorry to lose Jack.” “I will be glad to have you, old fellow,” answered Will, ‘and so will ren I know.” “Go with them, Hal, if you like,” spoke up Jack. “I jnk myself you will like that better.” ‘Then I will. God bless you, Jack, and you, too, rge, I may see you again after all.” erhaps so,” answered George. er right, though; those brutes of savages pretty hard rub between ’em, and I am afraid get over it. At any rate, God bless you!” _ The poor fellow had been feverish for seyeral days, and he certain!y looked unable to bear much more hardship. The very next day after the parting he died in Jack Drayton’s arms, and was laid to rest in the wilderness by the side of a murmuring stream, and under the shade of a giant cottonwood. ‘ The three boys and Lily, with Long-Paw for their _ guide, were at that time well upon their way, and many “JT don’t feel alto- ve me a shall not « | stirring scenes were before them. CHAPTER XII. REVELATIONS. » Two nights after the division of. the party, as the boys ' lay asleep under a rude shelter erected by the hunter, Will | was awakened by Long-Paw, who led him to a rising knoll a art from the camp. : — “Listen, my bey,” said the hunter, ‘‘I have a revelation - to make. Your father lives.” RTE od a “I believe so,” answered the boy. here I have been positive of it.” “*You have always lived with your uncle?” ‘As long as I can remember.” “Did he treat you well?” ‘‘Not particularly so. I think he was rather glad to get re of me, though he gave me more money than I asked or.”” , ‘Did he ever speak of m—— of your father?” ‘‘Never, but others told me that he had been dead many years, and that my uncle had taken me to live with him, out of pity.” ‘<No—no, it was not pity, it was remorse,” answered — the man. ‘‘Yetthat will not suffice. I must have venge- ance!” ‘You are my father?” said Will, taking the man’s hand in his own. ‘sListen to a tale of woe,” said the hunter. ‘Years ago there were two brothers called Paul and Samnel Baxter, Paul being the oldest. The other was a villain and had been disinherited by his father. “Sam determined to get-possession of the money, and therefore had his brother adjudged insane and thrown into a private asylum. ‘‘My God! they well nigh made him insane by the hor- rible treatment he received. He was there for five years, in which time Sam had removed from Maine where he had lived, to the west. ‘‘At last Paul escaped, but his poor wife had died and no one knew him. He was no more insane than you are, my lad, not a bit, and he resolved to have vengeance. ‘‘He went to the far west, married again and had several children. ‘The villanous brother heard of this and hired a band of outlaws to murder Paul and his family, and say it was the work of Indians. ‘‘In Paul’s absence the villains burned the house and murdered every soul, including a friend of his, a German who had come west to seek his fortune, leaving a son In the east. : ‘*All but one, agirl of the German’s, were killed; she was taken by the savages and brought up under the name of the White Lily. ‘When Paul returned he discovered what had been done, and learned the names of the perpetrators from the German, who was still barely alive. ‘Then he resolved to have vengeance. ‘With relentless hand he pursued the Indians and out— laws until, one by one, all had perished. More than once the Indians took him and condemned him to die, but he always escaped. ‘‘He rescued the poor girl from her captors, and brought her up as his own, teaching her all that he knew himself, and earning her everlasting love and gratitude. **At last, one day, he met his own son in the wilderness, and rescued him from the savages. The face and form were those of his son, and though he had not seen them for years, he was not deceived. ; ‘Paul would not make himself known until he discoy- ered for a certainty that the boy loved him, and revered his memory.” Ape “‘Indeed—indeed, I do!” said Will, falling upon his knees, and bursting into a flood of glad tears. “I never — believed my father dead. Ihaveseen him in my dreams «Since coming out often, and not a night has passed but I have prayed that I might meet him.” “J am Paul Baxter, the wronged; the avenger!” said the _ hunter. ‘I have lived but for this, to clasp my son to my heart, and bid him love me with hiswhole soul.” “J do—I do,” cried. Will, in rapture. ‘Thank Heaven! — I have fonnd you at last.” : “This is the story of -er’s cruelty. But one thing remains to be done.” one “And that Is SEER) a pee bene Ge y | a ] J a A Long-Paw, the hunter,” said the — : man in conclusion, ‘‘ of Paul Baxter, the victim of a broth oe |
Page 13
i» lessl “wel Ne * _ . Giving the reins of his horse to Lilly, who feared noth- art eat slipped off into the water, and disappeared from _§ = LONG-PAV. “To take the life of the villain, and complete my work of vengeance,” said the man, fiercely, his eyes fairly burn- ing. lightly punished. None but the most dreadful vengeance ¢an suffice. With my own hands will I tear,out the heart . of this monster of perfidy, and cast it into his lying face. 2 A thousand curses ‘‘Father—father, in‘mercy’s name let the villain escape!” screamed Will, in terror. ‘‘For the loye of Heaven, do not stain your hand3 ——” “To not stay me, boy,” said the. man, fiercely. ‘‘’Sh, your comrades are awaking. Go back to them, and re- sume your rest.” Harry and Carl were sitting up when Will returned, and theyasked him what had happened. “Nothing to alarm us,” he said. ‘‘I will teli yon in the morning.” The excited lad lay down, but it was hours before he could compose himself to sleep, so busy was his brain with the revelations that had just been made. In. the morning he told Carl what he had heard, and how the mysterious hunter had taken his sister from the Indians. Carl was as grateful as Will himself, and wanted to thank the man, but his friend advised him to wait a day or so. The march was continued all that day, and at night ~ the party encamped upon the banks of the Bear river not ‘more than fifty miles from Ogden city. In the middle of the night, Will was suddenly awakened by his father, who was bending over him. ‘A large party of Indians is approaching, my lads?” he said, for Harry and Carl were awake. ‘‘We must take to our horses and cross the river.” In silence the horses were led forth, and when all had mounted, Baxter went ahead and entered the current. The horses swam abreast, and had gone about half wa across when a series of fiendish yells arose from the ante they had just left. In a moment the scene was bright with a dozen blazing torches, and a shower of arrows flew toward the boys. They lay flat in their saddles, and the arrows flew harm- over their heads. _ $2: e riders urged their horses to greater speed, and the bank grew nearer every instant. Suddenly Baxter uttered a cry of surprise. “The villains are pulling after us in canoes!” he mut- tered. ‘I shall have to teach them a lesson!” ———_- CHAPTER XIII. THE FIGHT ON THE RIVER. ‘‘PusH ahead,” continued Long-Paw. “T will rejoin you in amoment.” ; ____The canoes, five in number, were now in the stream and Were rapidly approaching. The occupants of the foremost suddenly gave vent to fierce yells, as a keen knife was seen to penetrate the bot- _tom of their frail craft, and rip it from end to end. The water poured in upon the instant, and the Indians were obliged to jump ont and take to swimming. _ Long—Paw dove again, and coming up behind the second canoe, reached his long arm ont of the water and strang- d two mo fee hi Ses pie “I tell thee, boy, such wrongs as mine are not to be | 15 <D’ye kn Then the arm disappeared, and the canoe was served as the first had been. : The savages shouted ont a hasty warning as they leaped into the water, but in an instant the dreaded form of the hunter arose in front of the third canoe. A sweep of that terrible arm and a sayage lies in his gore. : A dive beneath the surface and the canoe is upset. But now the sound of pistol shots is heard. The Indians in the water have attacked the boys. Harry and Will shoot the first two and Carl and Lily take the next, but the demons are swarming about themin a moment. The bank is still some feet away and is sloping, making it not a very easy task to ascend. ‘Kill the red imps!” yells Will, and he and Harry pour the contents of their revolvers into the faces of their blood- thirsty enemies. Long-Paw swims swiftly to the rescue of the boys, and the reeking knife finds plenty of work to do, until, at last, the Indians, knowing with whom they have to deal, and fearing to lose all their number, beat a hasty retreat. The horses ascend the bank and Long-Paw heads the way through the trackless forest, never pausing until the sun was high in the heavens. Over mountain and valley, through rivers and brakes the journey is continued, the party narrowly escaping beng captured by Indians more than once, and at last they are clear of such enemies and have no one to fear bnt lawless whites, of whom there are plenty to be found in the woods and mountains. ; At Carson City they procured suitable outfits, their clothes at that time, although of stout material, being con- siderably the worse for wear. Dressed in a suit of durable cloth, a slouched felt hat on his head, his beard trimmed and his enormous hands encased in buckskin gloves, Long-Paw looked an entirely different person, and no one knew him, though many had heard of him. é Lily was clothed as became her station, and the boys doffed. their buckskin suits for garments more in keeping with ideas of civilized life. : They remained in the place two or three days, when suddenly, to their great surprise, the boys met the queer old hunter, ’Hiel Splinter, in the streets. : “Wull, Pll be Gurned!” he said, in surprise. ‘Do. onct more set eyes onto these boys? Don’t take me furegy Long-Paw now, do ye? Wull, him and me’s been friénds 7 fur a long time, an’ I knows: what he’s suffered. Knowe him in Maine, knowed him when I see him in the woods) Done him some good turns in my day. Cheated Injuns sometimes by tryin’ the throttlin’ dodge onto’em. Pret- ty good at that myself.” ah : <‘Where are you going?” asked Will. ‘sNowheres partickler. Reckon T’ll ‘strike ont fur the mines.” 2 Node Be ‘ That evening, as Baxter and the rest were sitting in a bar-room, looking at the curious customers that came in, one of the latter, a big, ruffianly fellow, carrying a pair of — % revolvers anda rifle, squirted tobacco—juice over Will’s foot. mx The lad instantly wiped it off on the seat of the man’s — trousers, and not very gently, either, rat “Look ahere, young ’un,” said the fellow, ‘did that a-purpose, or by accident? If ye done it by axident, all right, but ef yu done ita purpose, I’m goin’ to warm ye ” of you do “Did you spit on my foot by accident?” ay “No, goldurn ye. I doneitfurfun!?» = ‘*Then I wiped my foot on you for fun also.” “Ye did?” roared the man, drawing a reyolver; ‘‘d’ye see that?” Meee ea Brain say cre Sonat EYea ? nies sca ow what ths y = Ae
Page 14
ce She ae as Lhe 14 «Yes, it can shoot, but 1t won’t.” *<*Cause why, I’d like to know?” “<For this reason.” Will raised his foot and sent the weapon flying over the bar and into a corner in a twinkling. The man made a rush at Will, but seeing himself cov— ered by the lad’s revolver, he concluded to stop where he was. “See here, pard,” said *Hiel, in a whisper, ‘‘d’ye know who that youngster is what you’ve been makin so free with?” 6*No.”? “Wull, ill pour wisdom in yer ear, as Josephus has il. That ’ere lad is ther son o’ Long-Paw, the Injun fighter, which the same is that there man a sittin’ so quiet behind him.” — “What?” *Fack, pard, an’ no lyin’; so ye’d jest better light outer yere as sudden’s ye come in!” “Jumpin’ catamounts, ef I ain’t come away without my band-box!” said the bully, suddenly. ‘Swan ter man, I'll hey ter go right arter it, this ’ere minit.” “Thort ye’d forgotten suthin,” said *Hiel, as the man disappeared. ‘‘It don’t take more’n one mention o’ Long- Paw’s name ter scatter a hund’ed sech cattle ez him.” “In a day or so after that, the whole party, including Splinter, set ont for San Francisco, which they reached after an uneventful journey. Will and Carl found their situations ready for them, and stepped into them at once, and it was not long before Harry’s manly address and pleasant bearing stood him in good stead, by getting him employment in a bank. / CHAPTER XIV. LONG-PAW IS AVENGED—CONCLUSION. SSauver Baxsr, Esq., sat in the cozy library of his ele- t mansion in Chicago, one morning, reading the paper re going to his business. LONG-PAW. Just then the footman entered the library, bearing a let- ter on a silver salver. “Letter for you, sir; come overland by pony express; particular, I believe.” Sam took’ the missive, and the servant departed. ‘From San Francisco!” gasped the man, in a whisper. — ‘‘He has reached there in safety, then. What’s this? My God! I should know that hand! What strange feeling is this—I am choking!” He swallowed a mouthful of water and then broke the seal. Tearing open the letter in the most feverish excitement, — the first words that met his eye seemed to strike him blind. At last, in the most intense excitement, he managed to read the letter, not a long ‘one by any means, scarcely half- _ a-dozen lines, including address and signature, and then, with a face as pale as death, slipped from his chair to the floor. : The letter read as follows: ¥ “San FRANCISCO, October 1, 186—. ‘‘Brother.—My son, Will, has arrived, as you will agat ably be glad to know. Thank you forsending him. Your tools are all dead, slain by my hand. May the vengeance — of Heayen smite you! PavL.” — The vengeance of Heaven! It has smitten him! act An hour afterwards, when the footman entered to as— ; certain what delayed his master so long, he found the man upon the velvet carpet, dead! sf His mouth was full of blood, which had stained the del— — icate fabric of his smoking-jacket, and oe over in a thick pool upon the carpet. In his tightly-clenched hand was a arming letter, — which no effort could remove without tearing it. : He was removed to his bed chamber and the coroner © summoned. ; The verdict was: sudden excitement.” The verdict was false. ‘Death from apoplexy, induced od It should have been thus: ‘‘Stricken down by cone E justice; overtaken by the vengeance of Heaven!” a It was not long before Will heard the news. € was arrayed in a handsome dressing-zown, smoking- _ cap and embroidered slippers, and looked as if he really - enjoyed life. His wife was dead, and he had no children ‘‘to bother _ him,” as he himself expressed it; was rich, had plenty of _ friends and did about as he liked. * Many a hard-working man envied Sam Baxter, and not afew intimated that he had not come by his money as a honestly as he might have, although none could prove this. He had had his breakfast and was now smoking his “morning segar, an expensive one, by-the-way, for Sam would not have anything that did not cost considerable; and as the smoke-wreaths curled upward to the frescoed telling, he mused thus: . “Wonder if Will has got to Brisco yet? He’s late; ought have heard from him a week and more ago. If he. should ave been killed by the Indians what a comfort it would n sure that his father was dead I’d never ) li Vee The property came back to its rightful owner, from whom it had been unjustly seized, and Paul Baxter was once more a rich man. ws The Chicago house was sold, and the isinend idispasst of, for Will, who would inherit everything, and who was — consulted about the matter, did not care to return to the - place where he had never known much peace. a from returning and taking his brother’s life, by Will’s a most earnest entreaties, and when the poor man heard 4 what effect his letter had had, he sighed and manned softly: : < “It was better so; his own conscience stabbed him more keenly than I could have done. He has peas i wrongs he has done me—let him rest l:
Page 15
vy __ ON THE STAGE; OR, HOW TO BECOME AN ACTOR,~A valuable book for Although the prospective heir to a large fortune, Will was unflagging in his efforts to become a thorough business man, and he attended as strictly to his work as if his future depended entirely upon his own exertions. His father lived a very retired, strictly private life after that, and backwoodsmen wondered what had become of the famous hunter and whither he had disappeared so sud- denly. By degrees his skin became white, his hands lost their hirsute appearance and were as soft and delicate as a wom- an’s; his hair and beard were kept carefully trimmed, and his form was never clothed in anything but the finest broadcloth. He never saw any visitors and lived as secluded as any monk, scarcely ever venturing outside, and then only in a closed carriage. : When Will married Lily and went into business for himself, with Harry Morton as his partner, Carl Berger as his coniidential clerk, and really as much of a partner as [THE HOW TO BECOME RICH. “Lives of great men all remind us, We can make our lives sublime, And in dying leave behind us moptpriits on the sands of time.” There is probably not one in one thousand persons in the civilized world whois pot arnbitious to become rich in this world’s goods. This wonderful book, “‘How to Become Rich,” presents you with the example and life ex- perience of some of the most noted and wealthy men in the world, in- cluding the self-made men of our country. The richest and most success- ful in the Law, Politics, Mercantile Life—Bankers, Inventors, Farmers, Artists, Authors, and Editors; in fact, it contains a specimen from every walk of life. The book is edited by one of the most successful men of the present age, whose own example is in itself guide enough for those who aspire to fame and money. The book will give you the secret. Price 10 cents. For sale by newsmen and booksellers, or send price to Frank Tousey, 18 Rose street, New York, and it will be mailed to you, post paid. 0 FLIRT.—Just out. The arts and wiles of flirtation are fully explained EO ihe little book. Besides the various metliods of handkerchief, fan, love; parasol, window and hat flirtations, it contains a full list of the language and sentiment of flowers, which is interesting to everybody, both old and young. You cannot be happy without one. Price 10 cents ‘Address Frank Tousey, publisher, 18 Rose street, New York. Box 2730. . TAIN AN EVENING PARTY is the title of avery valuable SE ose ones fost published. A complete compendium of games, sports, card-diversions, comic recreations, etc., suitable for parlor or drawing- room entertainment. It contains more for the money, than any book lished. Sold by all newsdealers, or send ten cents to Frank Tousey, Publisher, 18 Rose street, New York, and receive it by return mail, post paid. ost instructive books on cooking ever publish- COOK. One of pre eee meats, oat ame anil oysters; also d all kinds of pastry ; and a grand collection of rec- ee ne oe popular cooks. * Only 10 cents per copy, Sent > = ood Address Frank Tousey, 18 Rose street, New York City. Xx SiG HOW TO = : : ed. It contains recipes Ow TRICKS.-- reat book of magic and card tricks, containing 7 full inatinesion of all the leading card tricks of the day, also the most pular magical illusions as performed by our Jeading magicians; every bor should obtain a copy, as it will both amuse and instruct, For sale . by all newsdealers, or sent postage free on receipt of 10 cents. Address t FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 18 Rose Street., New York. Box 2730. - a amateurs, containing all the information desired’ by. spepseneny An te: bros ession, alxo ACTS, IRISH At DUTCH ; + : -y BTC. Ft sale by all newsdealers, or sent from this ’ Pp Frank Tousey, 18 Rose street, Box on t ere LONG PAW. Harry was, there was a grand wedding, and Paul Baxter was the most courtly—looking man in the whole assem— blage. He lived to see half-a-dozen grandchildren prattling about his knees, and when the oldest, Paul, he was called, was fifteen, he passed away, a fine, white—headed, noble— looking man, deeply mourned by all who knew him and who were acquainted with the sad passages in his eventful life. There is little more to add. Carl married Annie Drayton, of course. Jack, in time, owned an immense sheep farm, and was the richest man for miles around; he and the other boys remained as firm friends as ever, though he saw but little of them; old Gabe passed away in a few years; ?Hiel Splinter got picked off by Indians, and now there is nobody but the three boys and their wives—Harry is still a bachelor, by-the-way, and promises to remain one—who knows the true history and adventures of Lonc—Paw, THE Mysterious HUNTER. END. | INSTRUCTIVE BOOKS. HOW TO BECOME BEAUTIFUL.—One of the brightest and most yaluable little books ever given to the world. Everybody wishes to know how to become beautiful, both male and female. The secret is simple, and al- most costless. This book will show you how to doit. The presert condi- tion of your form, or your skin will surely yield to improvement by fol- lowing the plain directions of this book, and not one of them is there that will not stand the test of your own common sense, or the learned juigment of your physician. ose who do not possess beauty, imagine that the means to become so must be little short of supernatural, but this is a great mistake. The very simplest rules, with little or no medi- cine, (that is to say, druggists’ medicine,) is all that need be followed in order to insure it. Read this ten cent book and be convinced. “How to Become Beautiful.” Price ten cents. Forsale by book and newsdealers, or send ten cents to Frank Tousey, 18 Rose st., N. Y., and it will be mail— ed to your address, post paid. TRELAND'’S STRUGGLES FOR LIBERTY AND LAND.—A new book issued. Contains biographical sketches of Robert Emmet, Charles St Parnell, Grattan, O’Brien, O'Mahony, Wolfe Tone, and every pron Irish patriot. Also interesting and instructive incidents in the hist Erin’s Isle. Price of book by mail, 10 cents. Postage paid by us. E — should have one. Address Frank Tousey, publisher, 18 Rose N. Y. Box 2730. cr HOW TO WRITE LETTERS.--A wonderful little book, telling you now to write to your sweetheart, your father, mother, sister, trother, employer; and in Eick, everybody and anybody you wish to write to. Every young man and pesat f young lady in the Jand should have this book. It is for sale by all newsdealers. Price 10 certs, or sent from this office on receipt of peices Address Frank Tousey, publisher, 18 Rose street, N. Y. Box iW, - “HOW TO DANCE” is the title of a new and handsome little 6 i by Frank Toasey. It contains full instructions in the art piyirteer tess yea in the ball room and at parties, how to dress, and full directions or calling off in all the popular square dances, The price is 10 cents; for vale by newsdealers, or sent from this office on receipt of price, post- axe: free; address Frank Tousey, publisher, 18 Rose street, New York. 2730" POPULAR SONGS AND BALLADS OF THE EMERALD pollaction us Trish — ular effusions o 00 T. Da Dehaeicas Banim, Kickham, F. es Mey < Meagher, Sullivan, O'Reilly, Locke, Meany, age, Doheny, with sketches of their lives. Th sel ati pe tite parlor of every a, ; 5 cen “post on recei ‘price. - publisher, 18 Rose st., New 3 Yor ain id :
Page 16
LATEST ISSUES OF ~The Great 5 Gent Wide Awake Library. by 836 Alonein the Wild West; or, ace York Boy’s Search for Buifalo Bill.........- by R. T. Emmet 837 The Secret of the Sealed Gold Mines. by Noname ” +63 Sam Spry, the New York Drummer; or, Busl- ness Before Pleasure—comic......,by Peter Pad 769 A Lost Boy; or Homely Jack’s Luck.......... by R, T. Emmet 770 The Black Rider. A Story of =A Revolution. y Raiph Morton 471 A Week Above the Clouds; or, cast Adrift in all 4 by Hal Standish .-by Paul Brasidon The Perils of the -by C, Little 776 ye Among Pirates; or, The Blne-beards of the Se -..by Kit Clyde 777 The Little Joker—com by Sam Smiley 778 The Two Runaways; or, The Hardships of a haces cecese Circus Life........- .-by Hal Standish 779 The School-boys’ Le: ; or, Working Hlis Way Against Odds....... -.-..by Robert Lennox 780 Lucky Lal, the Newsbey; or, Climbing the Ladder of Fame.........c.ee.eeeeeee by C. Litde 781 Lost in the Land of Sno wo American Boys in the Arctic...... y R. T. Emmet 782 Coal Mine Kit; or, The Muie Boy of Diamond ne Peer ec y Percy B. St.John 783 The Baad of 123; or, The Knights of the Trail... by Paul Braddon 784 Muidoon the Fireman—comic.....by Tom Teaser 785 Diving for Gold.........-+--+++++--0e by Kit Clyde 736 The 12 Owls; or, The Secret Band of Chicago by Paul Braddon 787 The Fire King; or, The Yankee Boe Explorer : by R..T. Emmet 788 The Boy Bank Messenger; or, Brave Bob Brad- shaw’s Secret Foe. ......--.--.0-+++- by C. Little 789 His Last Cent; or, How Joe ata Made His Fortune.....1....-++s----.-by H, K. | pes She 790 ete to be a Sailor; a Bob 3 Life o 1 WALRT. 00. cece wccccccsecceccce= by Kit Clyde 791 The *mlectri¢ Man; or, “Frank” Reade, Jr., in Australia.. ....... Sere f .Noname 792 Satan; or, The Mystery ‘ofTen Years......... by Howard De Vere 793 Taose Quiet Twins—comic........ .-by Peter Pad 794 The sho aiy Messenger; or, The Burning of GROOW cous bu ppecececesed teen ..by R. T. Emmet JIA Soldier : at “16; ‘or, Fighting for. the Lacy Rr : br C. Little 7.6 Teddy of the Toh Gate; or, The Man With the Green Shades....-.- By Corp. Morgan Rattler YT The Mayfower Boys; ‘or, Lie in a Yankee oe Peusebscstceeces ccs UFs LelCVeits Ot. SOND. Snow Trailers; or, ie ck, the Giant Macee Heaters. casei, by Paul Braddon 799 Denny the Ciown. A Story of Cirens Life in Jreland.............by Corporal Morgan Rattler riis in the Life cf a Yonrg «-sseceee-s-by Albert J. Booth r, A Race Across the nent.,.... evcecoeedeby C. Little 802 Fearless Phil; “or. The “hero of bs Rift... by Paul Braddon 603 The Shortys’ Christmas haskee Seca Minn D by FP eter Pad if Claim 4; or, Tue Hunchback of Placer. Pocket by: Noname?” he Miser’s Son; or, In Geen: of Hidden ~ H. K. Shackleford - NA es cnccsccvcesse-scece iB The Waits of New York ; by N. S. Wood (The Young American” Actor). 807 Brian the Bear; or, hie Pranks of a Wild [rish Boy Iee. -by Albert J. Booth .-..-by C. Little . Thousands by R. T. Emmet tery 809 Two Years on an 810 A Bootbiack’s Luck.....- 611 Around the World in a Ball of Miles Through the Air.. 612 The Fur Hunters of Winni by Paul Braddon 813 Six Weeks Under Graund.. .-.-by Kit Clyde $14 The President’s Boy; or, The Hero of the White Honse. . Shackleford 815 The Electric Ho r, Fra: His Father in Search’ of the Lost-Treasure of the Peed «gs hrd Ghat pagent * Noname” 816 Lior Luke, the Boy Animal 1 a Sasiseaees by Percy B. St. John $17 Carillo, the Corsair; or, “The Mysterious Mon- arch of the einen ear cie J. G. Bradley 618 Fearless Phil's Chase.........-..by Paul Braddon 819 The Ghost of the School-House,......-by C, Little $20 The Y' Sagas rauisies 2 or, The dea i dal the Silk Foals. KAS Etey > Genie F - Py “*Noname” 624.4 holing Stone; or, Jack Ready's Life of Fun COMIC... 2255 sec ee eeeee ss saeuaoe by Peter Pad 825 The Secret of the Tattooed Map..by R. T. Emmet $26 Custer's Little Dead Shot; or, The Boy Scout of the Litsle Big Horn....--.-- ...by* Noname*” Sains Bees $27 A Queer Race. The Story of a Strange People by William Westall 828 Kit Carson's Boy Trapper........ by Paul Braddon 829 Slippe By Ben the Boy Spy of the Revolution.. 830 Paddy Miles’ Luck; or, The Irish Boy Miner.. by Corp. Morgan Rattler 831 The Boy Fish; or, Little Jick the Hi tc aeoten R. T. Emmet 832 Ben the Bowsman; or, hoventeres in the Mon- TEZUIMNA SWAMP... cece eeesesecesses by C. Little 833 The Mastodori’s Cave; or, Two Wide Awake Boys in the Far West by Percy B. St. 2ohn 834 ‘Son sea) Stage Driver; or, The Hero of Rocky caesbvelccpesisceccouacs we. +-by Paul Braedon 835 tine Newsboy Up; or, A New York, Bos in a N.S. Weod (the Young Americar: Actor) PTeeTI TE Tee eee eee 838 Little Blondin, the Tight-Rope Walker..by C. Little $39 ae New York to San Francisco in a Catama- eee cceccccctccevecsessby JUlIN Sherman 840 A “Young ek Gould; or, A Hoy Amopvg the Money Kings..........--..by H. K. Shackieford $41 Only an Errard Boy; or, Getting fet in the World...... esoswccccvcepccseceDY ht, T. Emmet 842 Jack Ready’s Sciiool Scrapes—comic. by Peter Pad 843 The Ice-Boat Boys; or, Cruising on Frozen Waters in the Northwest.......... by C. Little S44 stsie salty Joe; or, The Sharks of New Yerk. by N.S. W food (The Young American Actor) 845 Young ironclad, the Boy Gunner.by John Sherman 846 The Boy Gold Hunters; or, Young: New York in California....... Seeseceseee--bDy R. T. Emmet 847 The Snortys in the Wild West_comieby Peter Pad $48 Billy the Bugler. A aoe of Governor’, _ POL and New York..... seeeeeeby C. Little 849 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Chase Through the lenis: by “Noname” 850 A Lack Boy; or, The Mystery of an Iron Chests... ..cceeee deeseeesecse- BY R. T. Emmet 851 My Friend Smith.......++ ..by Talbot Baines Reed 852 The Boy Crnsoes; or, The Young Castaways of the Pacitic...... .s.sby St. George Rathborne 453 Jerry the Tumbler; or, The Wonder of the Ring eres by Cerporal Morgan Rattler 854 Ned, the Bound Boy; or, Through 100 ore of FOCB. 0.2 ce ccee sewers sssccccceoeseeess C. Little 855 Frank Reade, wn “9 ;aud ‘His iieiig eam. eas 856 The Shortys’ Christmas Spape—com. Co svceele by Peter Pad 8357 Two rals cr. Adoat in New York... Tesocese N.S. Wood (The Young American Actor) 858 reine Phil ia Disguise; or, The Tiger’s Last Plot.. ++ eeee-- DY Paul Braddon 859 A Southern “Boy ‘in’ New York: or, Bonnrd to Make His Money........ by H. K. Shackleford 860 Steamboae Billy; or, The Stace kcooel Secret.. 861 The Boy Lion Tamers; or, Adventures in Africa 862 Out With Kit Carson. a Story of the Early Days Of Kansas......00sseeeeees by R. T. Emmet 863 The Boy Samson;_or, Taking Care of Hitmaelt : aittle 864 The Boy From New York; or, A Fight for Five Millions. w iby Perey B, St. John 865 Smart & Co. the Boy Peddiers—comic........ by Peter Pad 866 A Chicago Boy; or, Up From the Lowest. By John Sherman 367 an Ft Boys or, Maloney After Eaucation— by Tom Teaser “Noname?”? as the Top....... y R. T. Euwmet 72 Bob Allen's Ranch; or, A Cattle’ eo at 17.. ©. Little 873 Behind the Scenes; or, Out witha New York Corabination—comic -- by Peter Pad $74 A Boy Among the White Caps; or, A Victim Of tre Lash. .....--ssseeereeee- by Pan! Braddon 875 General Washington's Boy; or, The Youngest Soldier in the Revolution. .-+.by Ralph Morton 376 Pawnee Bill and the Oklahoma Boomers..... by Geo. W, Goede 877 Frank Reade, Jr.'s Search for a Sunken Ship; or, Working for the Government.by * Noname ” 878 Young Captain Tom Diake; or, Iu Search of the Pirate’s Home... ......--.- by the Author of * Captain Tom Drake, 7 etc. 879 A Bad Boy’s Note Book—comic by “Ed” 830 The Xinioe Railroad King, or, From Brake- man to President by "Col. Ralph Fenton 881 Joe Junk, the W rads or, Anywhere for Fun —comic so ...by Peter Pad 882 Lost on the "Atlantic.t.ssc.s. y Howard De Vere 883 Monitor Matt; or. Tle Giant of the Waves. A Story of the Great Rebellion...by Ralph Morton 884 The Boy aes or, The Adventures of Two . ke oa Placky Koys....... wasensdses Fe} ou ua 885 His Own ten or, The Boy Gaptain of Ca bead Lake.......-..s.se00eebY rey B. St Jobn eens nes le oe States and peceiay staoestdr the gener ra, Stare on receipt of loo, 5 886 Braving the Floods or, The Plucky Fight of Two Johnstown Boy8.e--. .-.--by R. T. Ernsmes 887 Muldeon the solid Man—comic....hy Tom Teaser 888 he Boy Star; or, From the Footlights to For- WH@svccccckecesscceoseas tes by N. S. Wooa 889 The Young Commander; or, A ‘New York Boy in the Southern War..... .....by Ralph Morton 890 Two in a Box; or, The Long and Shert ot it—comic....c0secese0e seseeeee--Dy TOM Teaser 891 The Soldier's Son; or. The Secret of the Honse of Eight Pines. "a Story of New York., -. . Little 892 Satin Sam the Young Western Spates tos by Paul Braddon 898 The Funny Four-—comic..............by Peter Pad 894 The White Queen of the Aztecs; or, Two Yau- kee Boys in Mexico............. by R. T. Emmet 895 The Deacon’s Son; or, The Imp of the Village COMIC. .ccccccescecccescesceses= yy Tom Teaser 896 The Boy Slave of the “Gatley; or. ‘rhe, Mystery ofthe Treasure Ship.......by Percy B. St. John 897 A Bad Egg; or, Hard to Crack—comic........ by Tom Teaser 893 Two Yedrs With a Pirate; or, The Prantom Ship of the Gold Coast.. Tee BY J. G. Bradley 999 uldoon's Boarding House-comic.by Tom Teaser 900 The Boy Diamond King; or, The You Monte Christo of New \ork by C. Little 901 Ikey;or, He Never Got Left-comic. by Tom Teaser 902 The Armorer’s Son; or, The Mystery of the ~ Tower of London... wceseuacoanes by Allyp Draper 903 Jimmy Grimes; or, Sharp Smart & ee “ COMIC. .ereeee sescceee see-e¥ TOM Teaser 904 Dick Getaway; or, Fighting for a Fortune..... by Corporal Morgan Rattler 905 Tom Quick, the Avenger of the Delawareoes one y R. 1. Emmet 906 Sam pot iowa the Boy eeeineers or, Begianing at the Bottom.,.......... ae° ane, bert J. Booth 907 Daring Dave the Diver; or, ‘The Prince of SWiMMersee. ces een ds cccssdecccsccvce C. Little 908 Sam; or, The Troubiesome Poailig—comie. by Peter Pad 909 Velvet Van; or, Deadly Grip and His Demon k Band.......ss22eeceeseeseeeeeb¥ Paul Braddon 910 A Smart New York Boy; or, From Poyerty to Wealth......00% ah dgapae Geumeutageal in Shermas 911 Foretop Tom; or, A Yankee Sailor Boy 5 Among the Malay Pirates......by J. G. Bradie 912 Bulger Boom, the Inventor— comic. .by Peter Pad 913 Oxtin the Streets. A Story of High ‘and Low Life in New York ....6...cccseccccccecsecess | by N. S. Wood (The Young American A = i 914 The Swamp Demon; or, Lost For Two fo £ b: T. Emmet” : y 915 Denver Dan, Jr.. the Stage Driver; or; The Mystery of Golden Gulch... weedy “Noname”? =) 916 Muldoon’s Brother Dan—comic...by Tom Teaser 917 Butfule Bill's Boy Broncho Breaker; or, The Youngest Here on the Plains... by Paul ‘preaah 918 A Sattor at Fifteen; or, From Cabin ae to Captain... U5.0 eo bY J. 919 Henpec ked—comnie....-- Tr 920 Homeless Hal; or, A Poor “Roy's Ta in a Great City. .-...-+e00- by Captain Will Dayton 921 Wild Bill's Boy Partner; or, The Redskins’ Gold Secret by Paul Braddon — 922 Mukidon’s Curistmas—cemic ,,..by Tom Teaser 923 Cavtain Jack, the Pirate’s Foe; or The Devil- — . fish of the Indies............by Roger bys Ba? 924 A Kad Boy at Schocl—comic.......... .by “Ed? $25 Mr. McGinty—comic....... mob Teaser $26 Lineman Joe, the Boy Telegraph Climber. t ; ttle 927 Shipped to China; or, The Life of a Ranaway te y+. eee eee ee eee ee eee eee! »U. 928 Searching for Stanley; or Tom ite Ad- ventures in Africa............- R. T. Emmet 929 Boarding-School; or, Sam Sowiek at Work. and Play—comic,.........-...0.-.by Peter Pad 990 Young Magic; or, The Boy with a Charmed g AT PA Pree reperr ee re) «ee-sby Paul Braddon ~ 931 Muldoon Out West—comie.. «eeee-D¥ Tom Teaser 932 The Boy Treasure Hunters; or, Searching for Lost Money........0sseece0eeeD¥ JO n Sberanan 933 Senator Muldoon—eomic..........by Tom Teaser 934 Sam Johnson, the Negro Detective, by Hi: Kane 935 Frank Reade, Jr., in the Far West; or, The Search for a Lost Gold Mine. woeeby * Nongme?* 936 The Waif of Mystery Island: or, The Adven- tures of a Boy Who Was Kidzapped...... = by Roger Starbuck: — 987 The Mystery of the Sealed Door; or, The 9id- est House in New York.........by R. T. Emmet 938 Island No. 7; or, The Pirates of raKs Michigan v Geo. W. Goode 939 Our Landlord; or, Life in ipecede Flats—~comic by Peter Pad 94¢ From Jockey to Judge; or, The Boy Who. Was : Always Alea 5...scccescessdecsvees Cc, Lite 941 Alone in New York; or, Ragged Robthe News- boy.by N.S: Wood (The Young American Actor) 942 The Boy Express Messenger; or. Fighting the — Train Robbers........--.++- ..by John Sherman 943 Next Door; or, The Trish ane by reece ~ Tom Teaser 4 The Limbless Hunter; or, sisireum’s Revenge = vy Roger “Starbuck