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$2.25 a. Year.

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I. I
..\ TV»V ; I;

 

 

BY “BUCKSKIN SAM.”

Published on the 5th and 20th of every month.

<52 CO} PUBUSHERS.

AND “'ILLIAM STR, NE“’ YORK.

Jr., the Crack Shot of the West.

1m CARSON, m.

’

. by FRANK STARR 85 Co.
LATT

977

htodl

FRANK STARR
I,

(“opyriu

 

A WILD LIFE ROMANCE

 

Price, Ten Cents.

Vol. I.

 

Kit Carson,

 

.'

2

The New York Library.

 

 

Vol. I.

 

' Kit Carson, J r.,
The Crack Shot of the West.

A ROMANCE OF THE LONE STAR STATE.

BY MAJOR S. S. HALL,
[BUCKSKIN SAMJ

 

 

Right of Dramatimlion Rem-veil by the Author.

, CHAPTER I.
THE PRAIRIE RANGERS.,

The sha en'd ear, the piercing eye,
The quic resolve in dan er nigh;

The speed that in the (lg t or chase,
Outstripped the Charib's rapid race,
The steady brain, the sinewy limb

To leap, to climb, to dive, to swim;

The iron frame inured to bear

Each dire inelemeney of air,

Nor less confirmed to undergo

Fatigue’s faint chill, and famine’s throe.

My first scene opens half-way between Oak-
ville and San Patricio, near the boundary line
of Live Oak County, and at the N ueces ford.

The date—18m, when the American press was
engaged commenting on the probabilities of‘a
civil war, and little space was given for items
from the Texas frontiers.

 

The characters and names are of those who .

have lived or are now living. The incidents are
unrecorded historical events that have come un-
der my own personal observation; and I will
say to those who so honor me, by following my
ink-trail, that I shall, in this story, depict fron-
tier life as it is, in the chaparrals and on the
prairies of the far Southwest—shall use no
character who is not well known to myself, and
to all old residents of that section of the country
in which the scenes are laid.

 

The Southern sun was just dip ing in the
west, its bright rays filtering t rough the
branches of the live—oaks, causing the long fes-
toons of Spanish moss to cast strange shadows
u n the sward, when a cavalcade of scouts,
t eir mustangs weary and panting, slowly
worked their way down the steep, treacherous
bank of the Nueces river, and buried their
noses, eyes deep, in the cool waters.

Among these scouts are some who have made
themselves famous, not only in Texas but
throughout the United States.

The magnificent man in front, with long,
flowing hair, rudd cheeks, and commandin
mien, is Captain J o n Donaldson, a nephew 0%
Senator ngfall.

Next behind, running his fingers caressingl
through the mane of his wiry mustang, is Lieu .
Cole eBay, almost a giant in stature, a bitter
hater of everything pertaining to Beds
Greasers.

The other three personages of our are
Reckless Joe, Texas Bill, and Bill Mann 0 He-
lena—the latter a noted scout under Capt. Lit-
tletown; the two former having ust‘ returned
from the Indian war, under apt. Edward
Burleson. All these are well known through
Texas for noble deeds of daring. ‘ .

These five Texans are clad in buckskin
fringed and beautifully embroidered, with re(
silk sas es twisted around the heavy leather
belts, and dangling their 1 fri at each
side. The belts, With heavy s ver 0 . —-upon
which the star of Texas is heavily engraved—
su porting two large-sized Colt’s revolvors, and
a Yon bowie-knife; a Sh ’s carbine h
with t e lariat at the horn of the saddle‘ b -
eta, tin cup, and canteen, on the cantel behind.
show that the men are used to “roughing it,”
3338 prepared to defend themselves against

01‘

They presented, as seated u 11 their mus-
tangs in the doc shadows of e live oaks, a
sight that would ve made a score of Greasers
hunt their hole in the chaparrals, and cause
their ye110w checks to pale with fright.

But, we will listen to the conversation of
these Rangers, and learn more of them and
their present object.

“I say, Cap,” said “Reckless Joe” “how
much farther do on call it to Ba’nke Creek?
I’m about play myself and my nag kinder
bankers after a rest. I w flbhe wa he
has stumbled, the last league. 6 very M
within me seems to run sluggisth and die 0 ‘
lids seem to have lost their 'p. was on e
lastwatch, last night and ‘f have dum-
bored but little since leaving San tonic? .

Non ro Banana-«R will be observed that my
characters 5 ask fair English at times. Sadat oth-
er: use not ng but slang and clipped w rdl. This
ictrue. Among frontiersmen are some who have
fair education but when they are on-the plain!
they get into the habit of using the some language
as those who have no educatio and it comes

__ easier and they get the name of pa ting on airs if
throw out words which cannot beAgenerally
urloa.

 

 

“ It is about two leagues from this ford, J oe,”
'said Capt. Donaldson, “ but, don’t let our
horses drink too much now; they can take heir
fill at the creek. We’ll 'og along easy the re-
mainder of the way. e will be sure to find
the rest of the boys encampcd there, and they
will be expecting us, for we or anize to-mor-
row night. Bill, I want to sen you down to
Patricio in the morning, bright and early, for
ammunition—that is, i you will have recov-
ered from our forced march.”

“You just bet our last rial, I’m on hand,
Cap, every time, or anythin that will hasten
our march toward the 'o rande. I reckon
I’ll spile if I don’t get a shot at some of them
Greasers soon,” answered Bill Mann.

“Don’t be too anxious,” said Donaldson.
“ Cortina has a bi crowd with him, this time.
They say he has a of seven hundred men, and
he must have a formidable force, to invade a
State, and burn and pillage the ranches for a
hundred miles up, from the Reinosa ford.”

“But, we’ll give him a histe, if Old Rip Ford
takes the lead, with our crowd,” added Mat
Nolans, “and we will drive the greasy cut-
throats and thieves into the river and if the
come out safe on the Mexican side why, we’l
follow them on their own ground. We’ve got to
teach this Chaparral Fox a lesson that he will
remember, or stock-raising won‘t pay between
the Nueces and the Bravo.’

.“Come on, boys! Come onl” said Reckless
Joe. “ Me soul is up in arms and eager for the
fray, but, at the same time, I’m on the anxious
seat, in re ard to corn—pone, dried-beef, and
coffee. 0h Sol, the glorious orb of day, has
traversed the blue vault of heaven in most
majestic splendor, to-day, I must admit, but I
think we could have dlspensed with some of
the splendor, without any inconvenience, and
I’m not sorry he is new smiling upon the long-
tailed denizens of the Chinese Empire. But I
really like this partof the country. ’Had it not
been for the live-oaks we should not have been
able to travel during1 the middle of the day.
Now, he s, if someof ese oak-mettes were on y
scatterel [xermiscious-like on the prairies, we
should not have had such rough times after the
reds. I ~ ,

“ That’s so, Joe; but, we can’t have things as
we want them in this world, or the next either,
for that matter,” nil in Texas Bill- “and we
must not find fan] with the Lone tar State,
when we know it centaina within its boundaries
all kinds of soil, hill and dale prairie and wood-
land, and a person can suit himself in locating.
h for half a dozen king-
doms, and can ride a. ousand miles in a direct
line without crossing on! bmmdary.”

Durin this conversation our scouts had gained
the sout side of the Nueces, rested their mus-
tan a short time, and headed toward Banket-
ta reek which empties into the Nueces, (River
of Nuts) below the ord, which the Rangers had
crossed.

With the reader’s permission we will dash
ahead and take glance at the Ranger camp for
which our scouts are marching.

Just three miles above the little town of Ban-
ketta, which boasted at this time of one black-
smith’s-sho , three grocery-stores, orbar-rooms,
One b' ' table, not exact] on the square
and half a dozen rough dwellhighvzas located
the camp and rendiezvous of the 00 who
were or an ' on a

gaming t that ever mflag

We have area one

the most successful ban
Texas, not excepting Cannales or
Ruble. -

'At this time Cortina was in command of the
1 force of Mexican outlaws thatth been
one exas soil since her annexation to the United
States.

His followers were of the lowest order of,

Mexicans esca poo ladrones, and tlaws
whose acts of  sent a chain: box-1

r(1)r (iii and doyvn the RibG-rande angizlwild,
ea mg or run
through thgrlznd ; hem thering of rs

co
and scouts, under orders om Sam Hons n,
Governor and Father of Texas.
some of our readers may not be aware-
that real slaver still exists on the American
continent, I w say a word in regard to the
pm In of Memco. that has been the means
of recruiting the outlaw gangs. ;
Under Mexican laws 3. person can pan him 'a
citizen to that of a pcon; from being deb r
of another he is made to occupy 3 tion di -
ferin but slightly from the con 11 of aslave.
The ( ifi'erence is simply this: The slave can be
transferred, for a given eration, from one
owner to another, w the peon can one
masters only by Walnut of the deb
owes. The rode of a pace from his 0
gation, however, is uneven!) far less likely‘h
da . I

' occur than a slave’s .

Rio Grande is the  , ‘ o of the runaway.
pleon. There he “I. ** indulged:1 sides pf the

V0! reheating ’ “913081 Sleasteone
he mmmahhlfcempbecomestoohot

M t . '

Dnhtfigwfll now return to the
on the hng of Banketta Creek.

It is night, and the camp presents to the e e
of an observer, :1. scene so Wild and extreme y

Ranger camp,

(as they say in Texas), he would not know he
was within the confines of the American Re-
public, but would think himself dreaming over
some of the many scenes so faithfully ainted
by Rembrandt. A dozen camp-fires )urned
brightl , casting their brilliant, pointed rays
throug the branches of the oaks, flickering
through the masses of Spanish moss—rich dra-
peries for nature’s chambers. '

By the trunks of these trees lean rifles of every
make and caliber, and hanging from the branch-
es are saddles, bridles, lariats, horns, pouches,
canteens and tin cups, with all the aceouter—
ments of war pertaining to man and beast—
each and eve article ready to sli from its
twig for immo< iate use in case of sud en alarm.

Serapes, with all the brilliant colors of the
rainbow, woven in their centers and borders,
lay scattered around the camp.

Gathered around the fires, cooking, eatin ,
smoking and jokin , are three score of roug ,
buckskinned sons 0 the Lone Star State, their
features bronzed by the Southern sun, and a
thousand camp-fires, and now glowing in the
light, which showed off their muscular, symmet~
rical forms, standing, or reelinng in every po-
sition, their heart laughter or loud halloo ring-
ing out on the nig it air.

ust out from the timber, on the prairie, here
and there icketed, cropping the long, rich grass,
are tun a undred mustangs and mules, and be-
yond these a line of scouts, flat on the ground,
so as to easily observe the approach of any per-
sons, friend or fee, from the prairie to the east
and south, which stretches level and unbroken
to the horizon, which can not now be distin-
guished—earth and sk so blending to ether. I
will here state that a hanger on guarg does not
walk )ost, as in the army, for he could be casil
picke< oil’, or evaded by an Indian, who craw s
113; to a campoto reeonnoiter, at times rising up
' e a ghost, spy out the position. The Ranger
has advantage in a prairie country, for he
can see the Indian (011 most nights in the South)
outlined against the sky, he. the Ranger, being
upon the ground in a reclining position. He
would, if walking, give the Indian his exact 0‘
sition, who could crawl up in the grass near 11‘s
beat, jump out, and knife or tomahawk him in
the back without alarming the camp.

It is necemary for me to di ess, at times,
from m to give the rea er information
in tron er a airs and customs which I have
$390!: explained in other works of like char-

In the Ranger cam which'I have described
—flittl.ng from fire fire, or seated by tree—
smoking their corn-cob pipes, are men
who had lost their dearest ones on earth by Reds
or Growers—men who ask for no quarter and
give none, only in rare instances—men who
would gladly miss a day’s grub, or night’s rest,
for a s at at either of these enemies of the
Southern border. Leaning against a tree in the
foreground, are two men directly opposite in
character, yet both equally hate the Indian and
Mexican.

One is the giant borderman, Big Foot Wal—
lace—with whom I have scouted on man a
trail—as reserved, in fact morosc, as ever. ill
be ever recover from the massacre of his fami—
l i No. As long as he breathes he will fight
orven ancel

The tide wiry fellow at his feet. his ton In

like a New England shuttle, is im

whowill shed a‘ tear of pity at the

of am , and the next minute fight
like a fiend.

Both men are always ready when needed for
hot werk with lead or steel.

But, what is this sudden commotion in camp!-
Men upon the ground leap to their feet and run
for their rifles; revolvers are drawn quickly
from scabbards; horses and mules are snorting,
and the d calling one to another.

A cla ringof hoofs from toward Bauketta
town—a Wild, piercing, horrible yellT-comes at
intervals tow the camp, from out the ink
blackness, or what seems so to the eyes whir-
have been looking at.the fires. “ ‘1
boA Single how.  "TC-n through the
is rder 0 UDI'OWn out from the camp. He

, a hat, his long hair fl 'ing like a C0—

w es, his horsereekmg witi sweat, white

th foam: the animal’s mouth is wide 0 n,

dreipgiing blood, and its eyes luring wit a
pl ng look almost human in their a on .

What is the meanin of this aw u] sight?
What is that which flas es in the light, in the
hand of the rider, and descends backward? Has
he an enemy—a panther upon the horse?

All gaze paralyzed, open-mouthed, at this
strange horse and rider coming thundering mm

s (gaggefilye way; he

pauses not but with horri-

bl his bowie-knife risin in- h ' to .
“d demanding into the poor beast8 5s m tlish‘igli
are an white foam and red gore.

Horse an rider, the former in a
5% showing weakness, are seen 
mfimr fires and every

 I -vanish into the 0:.
yo ‘tbcam ,andupthe creek ‘
m yells o the rider

 

romantic, that Were the Person from the States

lercing the
who" ,andmakin teir ..
in their veins. 8 very bl

   

  
 
   
  
  
  
  
    
   
 

 

No. 3.

 

 

1
With blanched faces, the Rangers gaze at each ‘
other—those who pale not when lead flies like
hail, and blood flows in streams; and through
the cam , from lip to lip, goes the words:
“ Wil Will!”*

CHAPTER II.
WILD WILL.

Alone and with a madman's zeal

That horseman plied the scourge and steel;
And jaded now, and spent with dread,
Embossed with foam, and red with blood,
But stumblin in the rugged dell,

The tortured orse exhausted fell.

The maddened rider strove in vain

To rouse him with the knife and rein,

But the good steed, his labors o‘er,
Stretched his stiff limbs, to rise no more.

WHO that was on the Rio Grande duri the
Cortina wars, that did not see or hear of “ ild
Will,” the maniac of the chaparrals?

Was there a curse u n him? None knew

positively his history. ome said his wife and
children were all murdered, scalped, and other—
wise mutilated while he was absent, and that
he was the first to discover his great loss—the
first to come upon their mangled remains.

Since this horrible event he had been a wan-
derer—a lone scout upon the plains, never let-
ting an Indian escape him when he once struck
a trail.

At most times, in appearance, he was as sane
as an man, but never communicative; in fact,
woul grow furious, when questioned in regard
to his past history.

When he wandered into a settlement and
could get rum—the greatest curse of mankind
on the plaza, or on the lain, one of his mad
fits was sure to follow, an then the poor animal
he rode was doomed.

No man dare interfere with him in his insane
rides, when he had the horrible habit of bin
his horse on the run, until the poor be won]
fall dead with fright, and loss of blood, for all
shrunk from using violence to one known to be
insane.

He often char ed into, and made his way
through, war-purges of Indians, who shrunk in
horror from is insane, dened eyes, and
cowered in terror from the “ Phantom of the
Plains.”

To see Wild Will when he was Wild, was con-
sidered by a many a plainsman to be an omen
of evil, and many a Ranger after the thunder-
bolt-like passage of this man or devil, through
camp, wore a troubled look; few words were
spoken, and these in subdued voices, as they sat
around the fires.

“ I’d a blamed sight rather see the devil, horns,
hoofs, and tail, any time, than Will,” said Tom
Clark to Jim Bearfleld, as they) sat some dis-
tance from their fire, on their lankets, ready
spread for their ni ht s comfort.

“ You’re 'ust rig t, Tom; the devil must be a
respectable- ooking person compared with Will,
when on the rampage. The cursed whisky-sel-
lers in Banketta oug ttobe h’isted up a limb for
lettin him have what they know ’11 knock
what ittle sense he’s got out’en his poor head.
I hain’t seen him afore for six months; then he
was up at fort Ewell, calm and peaceful, with
six fresh scalps hangin’ to his belt. Now, that’s
business, and if the grocery-keepers and sutlers
would just keep whis from him, why he’d do
a heap to’ards thinnin out the Comanches, say
nothiu’ of a loose Kioway or Lipau, once in a
while.”

“ Well, Jim, let’s knock off on Will. I kinder
don’t care to talk of him. Thar’s sumthin’ so
develish about ther cuss, that it spiles my appe-
tite, and that won’t do for when that’s gone,
good-by, Tom! I'm just as sure thar’s bad luck
ahead or me, as I am that thar’s snakes in a
dog-town, an‘ thar ain’t a mule on King’s ranch
that could set me back more, with both hind
buffs 'uar’ at me, than this thing. I don‘t sa
Iwish was in San Antonio, fur I don’t bal
at nothin’, but I feel kinder squeamish about the
gills. I ain’t afeard o’ nothin’ human, but ther
wasn’t nothin’ human about the look Will gi’n
me 'as he went , his horse’s tail hissin’ like a
whi ke on he mi be.”

I’ go you a slugt that Will will follow us
when we get on the march, an’ be in when ther
ii ht comes off, an’ if he does, why them Gmasers
’1. just wilt, an’ won’t have strength enou h to
git up an’ dust, what’s alive an’ able to 0 so,
when he shows himself; but yer gitin’ blue,
pard, an’ we’ll change the subject, as Doc Dos-
sett said, when he went for the home-thief’s
corpus, an’ found a. musquite log in the box,
but, changing the sub 'ect cost Doc a basket of
wme over at Captain mmeke’s, you bet!”

_“ Don’t talk! Don’t sling yer tongue about
wme here, in_this dry section, or cr’ll set me on
ther  trail, Jim. I believe could put my-
self outside of a pint of Mexican muzcal, as bad

 

as I hate a Mexican, an’ as awful as ther taruul
stuff smells! It’s a cheap way of gettlw drunk,
that Rio Grande whisky for yer bound ter stay
drunk a wee frum the fnst day’s pourin’ down,
but you’ll fee mighty weak fur sum time arter

‘An actual occurrence, in every particular.
z .50 gold piece.

 

 

that—,What the devil’s that, pard? Wild Will
ag’in?’

As Tom Clark made the last remark, in a hur-
ried tone of voice, the Texan yell rung out on
the night air, given by our friends, the scouts
we left at Nueces ford, now just coming into

In .

This whole camp was now in an uproar; those
who had rolled themselves in their blankets
s rung from them, to greet, with a hearty
c eer, their fellow-scouts and captain. An an-
swering yell from the whole company rung out
over the plain, as the captain and his four com~
panions rode within the circle of lights.

“ Welcome 1 Welcome, boys ! to Banketta
Creek!”

i‘Huray for Cap Donaldson and the Chapar-
ra s l”

“ Viva Capitan! Bueno Comandante!”

Such cries rung on the air from health lungs,
and true hearts beat with leasure; t e very
dra ries of S ' moss a ve the heads of
the ers ulvered like aspens as the cries of
welcome shoo the air.

Such a eting can only be imagined by
those who ve in cities and towns.

Ready hands assisted to groom the tired mus—
tangs, and picket them on the prairie, while the
new y-arrived scouts lost no time in their urgent
inquiries in regard to the state of the commis—
sariat.

“Give me a mule,” said Reckless Joe; “m
kingdom for a b’iled mule, and if you havent
that article of food upon ye billo-fare, just
sling-a—long a brace of br iled buzzards, a
stewed ca ate, and a dessert of prickl pears,
washed own with good uare drin from
Chock-a-late Creek; but min you, pick out the
bugs and singe the buzzards!”

‘ Joe, if I wasn’t mighty hung —you might
say starvin ou’d turn my mach With
your disgus in way of servin’ up grub, that
wouldn’t do to feed a Greaser on, much more a
gaffnder of the frontiers,” remarked Texas

I

“ Why, bless me,” retorted Joe, “there’s
Tom Clark as I’m a sinner! East thou a straw-
berry on thy right arm?

“ as I know thou art me long lost brother,
Tom! I-Iast anything in the way of provinder!”

“How de, Joe! Tickled to see you, you bet!
As to b, we have ‘bastante ’ carne asado,
chili co orado, frijoles, and co ee as black as
the beans before they were cooked.

“ Bien dicha! My regard for you shall be ex-

ressed when I am not quite so famished.
ICome on boys and h be he who first cries
Hold ! Rnoug ! Sufliment quantity ! or—oh
my! Boys, just gaze at that grub! Don’t an
man s to me for two hours, or I’ll blow h
eye-wmkers off!”

The remainder of the party ha ' followed
Reckless Joe now seated themselves fore the
campfire of Tom Clark’s mess to do that justice
to a rairie supper that their long and tiresome
ride well ted them for.

After disposing of an extraordinary quantity
of roast meat bear’s meat stewed With pepper,
anghcorén bread, washed down with lblacquo metal;
wi on milk, or sugar, pipes were roug t
use, and the scouts, and cggtain, surrounded by
a Circle of Rangers, enter into a conversation
in re rd to the comin cam aign.

“ ho’s last from ort rown, and what’s
Col. Ford doing?” inquired Captain Donaldson
after seating himsel comfortably on a dead
live-oak branc and looking at his brave lads
around him wi pride.

Reckles Joe always made it a point to “ sling
in his b ” whenever there was a chance; he
was as 0nd of talking as eating or fighting, and
here elled out across the cargp:

“ (yes, Kit! You, Kit arson, Jr., name-
sake an nephew of the illustrious scout of the
West! Come hither, me lord. How are the
senoritas of Brownsville? What news from the
fortress on the river? Give us your noble pre-
sience.”

A powerful built boy, not over fourteen ears
of age, with rosy cheeks, and 688, éliSh
face; his long, dark brown hair hanging low
the shoulders, now stepped within the circle of
fire-light, causing a murmur of admiration and
love from all the rs, for he was the pet of
the company, and alt ough see ly of femi-
nine appearance, et was able to ri e or follow
a trail with any 0 them.

The most expressive thin about him was his
eyes, which were wild an ierc' Havin
been on the frontiers from irth, t ere was a
constant watchfulness, a nervous rolling of the
balls continually on all sides, and the seemed
to bul out, more than natural, from in too
much in the presence of dan r. This iat-
ity of the eyes is noticeab e in most men Who
have for any length of time been on the fron-
tier.

As Kit stepped within the circle of fire-light,
his eyes flew around the group, and then he ad-
dressed them:

“Well, boys, to tell on the truth, as I al-
ways do, I la t Old Rip ‘ucking at monte despe-
rately, and cursin hard between deals. because
he hadn’t a hun or so of you fellows to,
swee u the river with.

 

“ e as mad as a fresh~roped mule, or a

Kit Carson, J r., the Crack Shot of the  ' 3

broke monte-dealer, and swears if Sam Houston
don’t order some of the boys down his way,
he’ll o for the Chaparral Fox with a lone hand.

“ at Nolan is down on San Fernandez, with
sixty men, and Littleton izfetting a crowd at
San Patricio, having clean out all the boys
of Live Oak who go with him every time.

“A scout ought to be sent down to Fort
Brown, and let Old Rip know how things are
fixed, right away.

“ Cortma is camped above Reinosa ford, just
off the trail, and has swept everything clean up
the Government road.”

“We must work then, boys,” said Donaldson.
“Joe Booth, you can take half a dozen of the
scouts, your picked crowd, and make for Fort
Brown b way of King‘s Ranch, and Taylor’s
Wells. ere are the ' tches from Governor
Houston to Col. Ford. ill George, your pard
will want to go with you, and I will send some
one else for t e ammunition to Patricio.

“ Pick your crowd, and go at or before day-
light, so as to put the lea es behind on before
the heat of the day for t e stretch o sand be-
tween King’s Ranch and the Colorado Lagoon
is, I think, about as warm as any t in Texas.

“ If you meet any Greasers who 00k any way
sus icious, I need not say don’t let them get the
best) of on. Deliver the dispatches to ‘Old
Rip For ,’ and place yourselves under his or-
ders; he may want you to scout up the river for
information in regard to the movements of Cor—
tina’s gang of cutthroats. We will be in the
chewing ready for tough work, in ten days.

“ 6 could get ready sooner, perhaps, but
there is no use starting from here until the three
com 'es are as near fullas possible, and all
readpag act together, as the Greasers might get
win of our movement.

“When we do get at them, boys, there’ll be
the hottest time, I reckon, there’s been on the Rio
Grande since Resaca de la Palms.”

“ Allright, Cap,” assented Reckless Joe. “ I’ll
muster my clan. I want my pard exas Bill),
Bill George, Tom Clark,Yo,1:‘ng Kit rson, Jim
Bearfield, and Bill Mann; t 8 my) party. I’ll
take charge of the dispatches, ut as I am
not in the Rio Grande country I wish
our riend Kit, who is fresh from Fort brown,
to take char of the scouts. What do you say
boys? We’ march under Kit in the service 0
the suffering citizens of the Rio Grande, skull
and cross-bones, black and all that sort 0’
thing counted in. We drive the yellow-
sln'nned gm usurpers back to their hol
where they ‘ be glad togrovel in the ashes o
the Halls of the Montezumas.

As Joe Booth ended his little h, he
stepped across the circle and extend his hand
to young Kit Carson, this bein their first

meeting, and the two were soon ast andflrm
friends.

Kit and Joc soon collected the Ran rsthat
were to go with them in the mo , and
everythin was pre in readiness or the

early3ta all oftemarranfiingtoslee to-

gether beneath a live-oak on e outskirig of

trho camp, so not to disturb the other boys when
too

their departure.
ey then returned to Captain Donaldson's

mess.

“ Ev is all fixed, Cap,” said Joe;
“we won’t see you again until we meet in the
cha You can count on our being in
F0 Brown as soon as horse-flesh can take us.”

“ All right, boys; Kit, you take good care of
Joe. He’s hunk among the Reds, but he’s to
learn a hea about Greasers. I reckon we all
turn in an get what slee we can.”

“Good-nig t and good- , Cap,” simgout the
scouts who were to leave t e next morm .

“ Con el permiso de V. senors! Bueno ace 1” *

saidKittohispards,as herolledhimself upin'

his blanket.

Inlesstimethanittakestowriteit, notahu-
manwas to beseen intheRangercamp; all were
rolled in their blankets; the grove was wrapped
in silence, the rs in re , heedlem of
the sharp, quick barks of cayotes, the occasional
shriek o a panther or the booting of owls amid
the oaks over their heads.

Here we will leave them, flit across the coun‘
try over the large tracts of and live-oaks,
musquite thickets and prairies, in a _ northerly
direction to new scenes and characters.

CHAPTER III.

MARTHAMTHTIXANQW.

Wreathed in its dark brown rin , her hau-
Half hid our heroine‘s fore
Half hid and half reveal‘d to view
Her full dark mt hazel hue.
with tIt: Hid feeble streak.
8o alight {ting‘d
ad said her hue was a:
f she flc‘d the summer 0.
Or spoke, or sung. or nickel- moved,
Or heard the raise of she loved,
root was expressed
Anght that wakod fully in her bread,

The man blood in road
mm'a the him of rising 1 pi”

" With your permission, lira, good-night.

 

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.w, .- a... “*W .. -_.- .. i.

MIVVA. c .. . -

 

 

a

. into this trouble and danger.

4

The New York Library.

Vol. I.

 

San Antonio, the Alamo City!

ing incidents of historvy are connected with this, i he came to be in such a da
c.

the principal city of stem Texas.

No street or plaza, path or trail, within its
limits, but has been washed in the blood of
heroes! ‘

What tales of crime and massacre, of heroic 3

fortitude,of unparalleled bravery and atriotism,
could the lime—stone walls of the 1d Alamo
tell, were they gifted with speech.

On the eastern side of the San Antonio river,
and the northeast corner of the Alamo Plaza
stands this, the most important building in Texas
history. .

Here it was that all the American population
of the town took refu 0 when Santa Anna sur-
rounded them with eig t thousand soldiers.

Among the doomed whites were the celebrated
Texan patriots, Col. David Crockett and Col.
Bowie, the inventor of the famous knife which
bears his name.

Over three hundred and sixt men women
and children rushed madl into t 6 old mission,
hoping to preserve their hves. Alas, the knew
not the nature of their foes; or, those w 0 did,
ke t the knowledge to themselves.

rom the time they entered the doors of the
Alamo those of the parn'tiy who knew the treach—
erous c racter of the exicans, felt that they
were doomed, and resolved to sell their lives
dearly.

The Kentucky rifles poured death into the
mass of Mexican soldiers, but their overwhelm-
ing numbers enabled themto fill their comrades’
places as they fell. The somi burst in the doors
of the main entrance, w en the brutal massacre
of men, women and children commenced.

The men fought, as desperate, brave men
fight, until they were, one by one shot down in
their tracks, nobly defending the females behind
them.

Col. Crockett fought with his knife, after
being blinded by powder so he could no longer
use his rifle, cutting down his enemies as they
rushed u on him, and when, at last, he received
his deat --shot, thirteen Mexicans lay in one
ghastly pile before him, killed by his one right
arm' -

Of all the doomed garrison, but one survived.
A girl bab thrown from a window into the
irrigating ( itch, was rescued b a Mexican
woman, who tenderly cared for t e little thing
until the child was adopted by the State, and
educated. She still goes by the name of “The
Child of the Alamo,” and I have listened to
many Sweet songs from her lips.

Passing north, from the north-east comer of
the main Plaza, a rifle-shot or so, we come to a
little, low unpretending Methodist Church, but
the neat white cottage, with its flower garden,
ad'oining the church, is where we must enter.

n a room neatly and tastin furnished, far
better than most Texan homes, are two females
—one a matron of forty, the other a blooming
girl of sixteen; the elder busy with needlework,
the oun er thrummin impatiently on a piano.
As am escribing rea characters and scenes,
the betrothed wife of Joe E. Booth, (or Reck-
less Joe) must have more than ing mention.

Miss Martha Wells was 0 medium hight,
with long flowing dark brown hair, hazel eyes
that pierced throu h and through those whom
she deigned to ad ress, with a faint blush con-
tinually upon her rounded cheeks, with all the
gracefulness of a prairie fawn, and as quick
of movement.

There was a dash of bravado about her which
told of a true daughter of Texas, who would
mount a wild mustang, and conquer him, too, if
she started to do so.

For some time the look of concern and trouble
that showed plainly in her features was battled
against, and then, suddenly turning around on
the piano-stool, the tears moistening her long
eyelashes, she addressed her mother on the op-
posite side of the apartment:

“ Mother, I cannot stand this suspense any
lon er. Poor brother Clay is now lying sick on
the 'o Grande, only a few leagues above where
Cortina‘s raids have extended. Joe Booth
thou ht him secure from any molestation from
this ndit chief, and has gone himself down
coun with Donaldson’s Rangers to join the
expedi on against this king of errillas. Sn
pose some of the Mexican ou laws should a -
vanes up the river as far as the Guerrero ford,
and poor Clay be murdered! Oh, to think of it,
and we sittin here in idle security, doing noth-
in to help in! Could we ever forgive our-
sefires if. such a horrible event should transpire?
I cannot and will not bear this any longer! I

“ My dear child, I am feeling as W. 00118111-
ly, about r Clay, as on can. I did not close
myees nigh t 'gofmysonbe in
the situation he is. Why did we not kee .m
at home? His Wild, uncontented mindl him
I do wish that
John Moore had not have asked him to go and
ho they will both return to us in safety. our
on rprisi brother-in-law must value his life
cheap, or t ' agood dealof stock to gointo
such a coun to urchase. and he, it seems to
me, ought to ave Ind better t than to
have taken myboy along, not yet out of his

”

“Mother, Ipsaid I could not bear thismpense

What thrill—  longer, and I will not. No use in talking how

I
v
x
!
l

 

l is no use trying to keep Joe out of the Rangers

erous locality but i
talk of some way of getting im out of it. lam ‘
worried enough in regard to Joe; he is liable to l
lose his life any day with the Rangers, but there ,
since he went to the Indian war with Capt. ‘
Burleson. '

“ Mother, I am going to the Rio Grande, after l
Clay myself.”

“Heavens, child! what are you talking about? ‘
Are on getting insane?”

“ 0, mother; far from it; but I have 'ust
come to my senses in regard to the matter. if a
brother is sick, far away in a dangerous section
of the country, among strangers and it is pos-
sible for a sister to reach an aid him, it is her
duty to do so.”

“ I think it possible for me to reach the Rio

Grande in safety. You know I have had some
prairie experience; am a fair horsewoman, and,
if worst comes to worst, I can shoot a rifle or
revolver well enough to make it dangerous to
those who oppose me.”
. “ My dear child, listen to reason. You know
it is next to impossible for you tocarry out
such a wild plan, and who would go with you?
You surely 0 not dpropose to 1go on a journey
of one hundred an sixty mi es alone, two-
thirds of it through a country where war-par-
ties of Indians are liable to sweep down at any
time?”

“Well, no; not exactly; I intend to enlist
Jack Hodge and Clown; they are both in town
——both friends of us all, and brave and true
men. Clown is a little weak in his brain, poor
fellow, since he had that awful fight with the
Camanches, and is not as active as he would be
if he had not had so man arrows shot into him.
Only think of one man hting fifteen Indians
alone, killing eleven, an put ing the rest to
flight! I shall feel secure in the company of
such men as they are known to be. I know they
would stand by me to the death.

I shall wear the buckskin suit that John
Moore brought from Monterey for Clay, and
brother left a Sharpe’s carbine and Colt’s revol-
ver behind, so I shall be well fixed for the road.
I will have in hair cut so it will ban to my
shoulders, am with a sombrero I sh look as
masculine as some of the youn boys in the
Rangers. I know I shall not 100 more girlish
than Sam Hall or Sim Cooley. Can I have your
permission to 0, mother?”

“ Martha, have as much regard for your
welfare as my son Clay’s, and heSitate upon giv-
ing you any encouragement in such a rash, al-
though praiseworthy undertaking. I should
worr myself to death in your absence.”

“ other, when I rode from fort Mason,
thirty miles, in the night, down the Llano
river, to the Ranger camp for assistance, the
time the Camanches were butchering the ranch-
eros within rifle—shot of the barracks, it was
said that no other 'rl of my age in Mason
couiégy would have red do it, and I am in-
clin to think I can make the trip to the Rio
Grande in safety. You know how poor Clay
must feel who has never been from home before.
He must need the care of one who loves him.
John would not have left him had he thought he
was oing to be seriously ill.”

“ on are a good, loving, brave and true
daughter Martha. and I have great confidence
in your udgment. I am very much troubled
in regard to Clay and if you think Jack and
Clown will With you, I will say God speed
although I s all have no peace of mind untill
see our dear face again.”

artha, who had during this conversation
been gazing apparently from the window, but
instead, had observed every movement, an
weighed every word of her mother, now rushed
across the room, cl her arms about her
neck and kissed her affectionate] , while the
tears dro ped from the e es of bot .

“Than you, mother, or saying I can go, for
I have thought and dreamed over this so much
of late since we heard by the scout, who
brought the tidings of Cortiiia’s last butchery
that Clay was on the Rio Grande sick, thatl
have felt that I must go and feel that our good,
brave Reckless Joe wil find his way up the
river, and that perha we shall all come back
to San Antonio toge her. Oh, would not that
be gloriously tfizyl Only think, mother, it is
but three men since I rode after the Rangers
to come and teach the Indians better than to
murder the citizens of Mason! It was then I
met Joe—our Joe. Why, mother, it seems as
though we had known him always. This would
not seem like the same world without him; he
is so gay always. I never saw him with the
blues, and he never allows an one else to have
them, when he is around. ‘ hakespeare Joe,’
some of the be s call him, and I do not wonder,
as he is as ten of s utin as a whale.”

“Joe is a. good, rave y, I know, but very,
very reckless; and I am much afraid, will not ,
live to a very ripe old age, should he ate. in 1
Texas. I wonder what he found to do to
him inthe"excitement he likes so well, before I

 

 

l he came here? Things must be rather tame

in Massachusetts, compared with this State I .
should judge?" . ' .
“I suppose so,and I hope Joe will notgetl

1.

p I this for him, even, if

 

l homesick, for we should be lost without him;

but I must hasten and make pre arations for
this trip to poor Clay. I have t 6 arms, and
clothin necessary, and mounted on my own
dear ‘ hits Cloud,’ which William Knox pre-

' sented me, I am fixed for the trail, for there

are but few horses like mine for speed, or en-
durance. But, b -by, mother; I must go 11
to the Plaza an find the boys. if I can.
know they are eager to join the Rangers against
Cortina, and they can go down the river from
the Guerrero ford.”

And so saying, Martha skipped across the
room for her hat, and almost flew down the
street toward the Plaza, but somewhat mode«
rated. her pace as she approached that great
mart of all panish built towns.

Passing the lime-stone block, looming up high
above the insignificant “ jacals,” she turned to
the right, 11 the north side of the Plaza, 11 n
which the laza House fronted. But few w ite
females were on the streets, at this time of the
day, and she wended her way through the most
mixed crowd of men that could be found on the
American Continent—Americans, English, Ger-
mans. French, Spaniards, Mexicans, Negroes,
and Half—Breeds, Rancheros, Muleteers, Mer-
chants, Stockmen, Frontiersmen, and Team-
sters, in all manner of costumes; but, high or
low, rich or r, all respectfully made way for
the beautif girl, and many a sombrero was
tipped, and pleasant greeting given, by those
w 0 were so favored as to be acquainted with

rett Martha Wells. To insult a woman in

an ntonio would brin y death to the
rash individual who won (1 0 so.

Arriving at the Plaza House, Martha was for-
tunate in finding Jack Hodge, lazily leaning
against the veranda post, near the main en-
trance, but at a nod of invitation from Martha,
his laziness left him, and in an instant he was
by her side walking toward the Military Plaza.
As soon as the usual reetings were exchanged
between the two, Jac addressed Martha apo~
logeticallfi

“Miss artha, I thought of calling at your
mother’s, this eveninf.”

“Jack, I am gla to see you, and wish to
have a talk with you, so we will, if on please,
take a walk around the Military P za, which
you know is always clear of a crowd except
when they hang some poor fellow. As to your
coming up this evenin , Jack, I am afraid you
would not have exeiged yourself ,to that ex-
tent. They do say you are the laziest man in
town except when you are on horseback, or a
stage. Don’t be offended at m lain way of
speaking; but, how is it, Jack o the boys mis-
re resent you?”

‘No, I reckon not; I can’t deny but what I
am inclined that way. What is the use in rush-
in around, when you have nothing ahead to
gain by it. When get the lines in my hand,
and six or eight ratt ing nags ahead, with say
fifteen passengers on and in the coach, I feel
like myself more, and don’t care much even for
the road-agents, for I always c two Colt’s
sixes, and most of them kn0w it. gut, you see,
I’m off the read now and awful sick of town.”

“That is what I thought, Jack, and I came to
you as a friend to aid me, in what you may call
a foolish thing.”

Foolish or not foolish, I am at your service,
be it to break a wild mule, rope a mustan ,
scalp‘a Camanche, or cut Cortina’s throat, -
thgugh I acknowledge I want time for the last
0

“ I’ll not be so hard on you, perha , as either
of the difficult feats you mention, though my
prOJect may lead you to the accomplishment of

he latter. Let us turn toward the post-office;
rhaps there is a letter from Joe. I do wish
here was a mail between here and where r

Clay is, and this brin me to the subjecfogn
hand. Joe, 'ou know, as gone down country
with the ngers and cannot assist me.
Brother Clay is sic on the Rio Grande near
the Guerrero ford, where John Moore left him
when he went into Mexico to purchase stock.
You do not know how worried mother and my-
self have been in regard to him, and mother has
reluctantly consented for me to go to him, if I
can get you and Clown to go with me. The
Rangers will, when or ' d, sweep u the
river, and if you go to the Rio Grande wit me,
you and Clown could scout down and join them,
as I have heard you wished to do had you ar-
rived here before the left the cit .

“I want, oh so to t to Chi and take
care of him until he is ab e to trave ; and, you
see, I have ed the whole programme, and all
that is wanted now is for you and Clown to say
you will act as my escort.

“ I have not seen Clown to-day, Miss Martha,
but I know he is to be at Madam Candeleno’s
fandango to-night, and I will make it my busi—
nessto find him. I have no doubt he will be
glad to do on this favor, as I am myself. I
am extremey sorry Clay is sick, away from
home. He is too youn for trouble; I would do
_ had not the honor of the
comm: of his fair sister.”

“ Will do for you. Jack; I don’t allow
people to flatter me, and it don’t sound well
from you, Jack. You are not used to it. I 0
hope you Will see Clown, and that he W111 ;

 

 

 

-' “m

“‘4,

. the prairie to escape, but were

ilflt _3'

Kit Carson, Jr

 

but, wait here a moment until I inquire for the
mail ”

Miss Martha entered the post-office, and soon
returned to Jack, holdin a letter in her hand,
and both turned up the lam, toward the resi-
dence of her mother.

Martha, when they came to a street unfre—
quented by pedestrians, excused herself, tore
open the letter, and glanced hurriedly over its
contents. I ‘_

“ Jack, this is from Reckless Joe; it was
mailed at Oakville. Donaldson’s company have
organized, and Joe, with five other scouts, start-
ed the same day it was mailed, for fort Brown,
with dispatches to Colonel Ford from Governor
Houston. The Banners are to rendezvous below
the Reinosa ford, where Colonel .Ford is to take
connnand, and attack Cortina “'in force.” Oh,
I do hope Joe will take care of himself, but there
is no use in relying upon his gomg any thing so
contrary to his general habits.”

“Miss Martha, I’ve noticed that those who
take the most care of themselves, in this coun-

don’t last long; they drop off suddenly,
w e those who take things as they comes—go
in rough, not thinking or caring for their own
rsonal welfare—generally come out all right.
ow, when a fellow is found to be a coward, for
instance, he had better be anywhere than in
Texas, for everybody will snub him, and insult
him, until he must eventually get into a row, in
which he will have to pass in his checks—beg
don for the gambling slang. Now, Joe is
Just the galoot—man, I should have said—for
frontier life; he is brave, adventurous, in fact,
Reckless Joe is a ver appropriate alias for him.
But, by the way, I ve not seen Joe since he
had his eyes so badly injured. I heard of it in
Austin, but not the circumstances. How did it
ha 11?”

‘mOeh, haven’t you heard of that? Why,
ever body in Western Texas was talking of it
at t 6 time. Well, Joe, Jourden Bennett, and
some other Rangers, had captured two Indians,
in a fight, and were agoing to keep them as
hostages thinking to exchan them for two
women that had been cap by Big Foot, the
Camanche chief.

“ The Indians were boun in camp, and
worked loose from their b0 in the night
crawled upto where Joe was, at t 0 fire, scoo
up hot ashes and embers and threw them di-
rectly into his face before he could get his pistol
from the scabbard. They then rung out upon
th killed by
the other boys, who awoke in time to prevent
them from etting awa . One of them, it was

said, was led before ran ten es. Joe
sulfered greatly for some time, but nearly
recovered.

“But, here we are at mother’s. Jack, come
in and have a chat with her. I hate to o awa
and leave her here, and hope Sister y w 1
try and keep her from missing me. Come, she
Will be glad to see you.”

“ I am greatly obli ed for the invitation, but
I must return to the laza House, and then over
to Sappington’s stable, to see after my horse,
who is some lame; it is n that we all
have,good stock under us, on the trip you pro-

“Jack, I believe you had ratherloaf around
the Plaza than sit and chat with us. You do
not seem partial to ladies’ society and seldom
accept our invitations, but on Will get enough
of me before we reach the i0 Grande.”

“ You are greatly mistaken; I am very fond
of ladies’ society, but I have to keep my tongue
bridled so, while with them, having mixed in
rough crowds so much, since I left the States;
that is quite a tiresome task for me, to keep
from letting words sli that would not sound
well to refined ears, he slang of the stables
and roads, prairies and camp, comes so natural;
and I will not promise to do as well as I have
during this walk, on our way to the Rio
Grande.” . _

“ All right, Jack; I shall put no restrictions
on your Ian ge, as long as Kim talklike a n-
tleman, as know you to . I am  to
prairie slang, having spent most of my life in

am, not remembering much of my birth-
place, Virginia. But, by-by Jack; if on will
not come in, be sure you see ‘lown to—night, and
come and see us here in morning.”

With a farewell smile, Martha tripped into
the cottage. Jack, respectfully lifting his som-
brero, and heaving an immense sigh of relief,
retraced his steps toward the Plan, soliloquising

by the way, giving vent to the pent-up words v

he had been forcing back, as the wars at his
tongue's end, during the walk wi Martha.

“ Dog-gone my pecul’ar pictur’l I’ll just be
smashed, tiplped, curflumuxed, and foundered,
if I don’t fee like a b’iled mule. She’s the dang-
dest, purtiest, smartest, slickest piece of calico I
ever seen, imide or out a coach, and she w’ares
her harness b’utiful, and kisses her head like a
three-year old mustang, upon ther perrarie,
what’s neverbinro . Joe isaluc cues, to
git on the right side of her, and not git his ' -
aard broke, and I hanker arter a kiss from or
sweet lips, as bad as an old stage has dus for
oats, after a-doublein’ stations, or a perraric-
man due fur water, in the middle of ther Staked

back on a friend like J oe;_not much! She’s jest
as safe with Jack as an express package, and I
never broke one yet, nor ’10wed a road-agent to
do it either. I reckon that 1’s passage is paid

through, when her time comes ter go. Strange
ther ain’t no time-table fur us humans to know
when we’ve got to turn over our fares, unhar-
ness and git fur unknown, unexplored reg’ons;

there, as I am!

“ I’m 0. K. all the time, except when I’m full
of whisky, then look out for Jack, everybody!
he don’t care whar’ he drives, and has no fa—
vorite hoss.
spank-up team now, if I could just the
drinks and order up a safer hand' an there’s
no use talking I’ve got to knock off this whisky
biz or bus t. ’m as dry now, and my lips as
cracked, as an old harness. Here goes fur Bob
Caile’s, fur about four fingers, strai’t, that ’11
take the trembles out’en me. I couldn’t a talked
like a ntleman, States style, with Miss Martha
much onger; it don’t cum natural to me now,
and tires me awful. I’ll o to the fandango to-
night, and see Clown; he’ 1 glide easy onto this
trail, to please Martha.
her, and who c’u’d help it!

“I’ll 't a good squar’ drink at Bob’s, then
taper 01%-l
, ’fore we it to the Medina river.”

ack entered tie bar, on the corner of the
Plaza, ke t by Bob Caile, and as he stepped in,

rible example against his future potations.

Leaning against the bar, with a lass half-full
of liquor in his hand, was an 01
had ‘ lyears in the service of his ado ted
btate, a brave and honorable man, res by
all, for his valor, and services. He
captain of Rangers, in manya hard-fought field.
tremb ed in his hand, and he anxiously, and
in as if ex ' an enemy, but the startled
106k gzve wgecttdncgie of pleasure, and he nodded,
and s ptpsd is hand on the bar, in invitation;
he was full for utterance just then.

Jack needed no second invitation, and the
gasses clinkod together. Hardly had the

11 returned to the bar em ty and as Jac

was about to address the o d Texan, when
another party of men entered boisterously from
the Plaza.

One of these men was a bitter

litical enemy
of the old Texan’s, just arriv '

from Austin,

Texan, who t around, and as his eyes fell

tremb
his Colt’s revolver, as he hissed the words:
“ Liar! Poltroon! Coward l”

backed from the barroom into the laza; the
crowd receded with blanched faces, as these
men each step
forward from t e veranda, their eyes glaring
hate. When free from the crowd, at ten paces
agar-t, the pistols were leveled, each at the
o e '

r.

“ Hold, for God’s sake, Cap!” said Jack;
“£85m toodrunktofi ht.”

' words were notgheeded; the old Ranger
trembled, but not with fear, as be pressed the
trigger; there were two reports, an instant’s in-
terval between, and still both men stood glaring
at each other unharmed.

The sha click of the hammers—which sent
a thrill of orror throu h the bystanders, those
who were unused to sue scenes—then, quick as
a flash of light ’ —for human life now de-
pended upon sleig t of hand—the pistols were
again elevated, and a wavering motion of the
arm was noticed in the old Ranger, a difficulty
in catching the sights. It cost him his life, for
his opponent’s pistol belched forth its leade'n
messenger of death which found a home in the
brain of the old Texan, who fell with a dull
thud to the earth, without a struggle and there
he lay, a limp and motionless heap o cla .

The murderer walked away, still hol 'ng his
revolver and with keen eyes watching to see if
any of the old Texan’s friends wished to take
it u .
“VTwas a fair fight; no advantage,” sa 8 one.

Most of the crowd agreed to this ver ict; it
was fair in Texas.

 

I senses to stand 11 and fight for his life against
I a man who was runk, with weapons that re-
quired a steady e e and arm.

1 Within one in eof the Plaza, in a neat cot- §

I’d be holdin’ the lines behind a i

and had evidentl been expected by the old .
y , said the barkee

y
A

to kingdom come, strai’t t rough to Heaven, 1
on the back seat, and I’d like tur drive her .

., the   of the West. 5

less of its work in the great day when all profit
from its sale will be as naught to you?

CHAPTER IV.
HOW JACK HODGE ENJOYED A FANDANGO.
MEN shudder with horror when SOlllO dread—
ful crime is icrpcti‘atcd, or an accident happens
which hurls iuinan beings into eternity, but are

 

‘ very backward in profiting by a knowledge of

but I don’t reckon they’d want such a cuss up i

the cause of these events.
So it was with Jack Hodge, after assisting to
bear the remains of the old Texan to his heart-

‘ broken wife and children; and seeing that no

words of his would mitigate their grief, he
started for the Plaza again.

The death of his old friend affected Jack and
made him quite blue, and as this was an unusual
feelin with him, he being generally of a joy ous
disposition and fond of fun, under the circum-
stances he came to the Conclusion to drown his

' sorrow in the flowing bowl, and turned off from
‘ his course to the Main, into the Alamo Plaza.

Why, everybody likes I
" his wa

to-night, sure, or I’ll see snakes, nii’ ‘

Here he found a congenial friend in the per-
son of Phil. H. Immckc, and the two talked of
the circumstances connected with the shooting
affray, over their lager, in the cool front room
of linmeke’s restaurant.

Some time was spent here before Jack wended
again, toward the main Plaza, mutter-
ing to imself as he walked alon r:

“Wall, I must have sunitliin stronger than
Immeke’s lager to set me O. K. This shootin’
scra )6 has knocked ther buckles all of’en me,

. an’ feel loose enough to sling myself at the

he little t ought he was about to witness a hor- i

Texan, who .

been :
His eyes were wild, and bloodshot; the glass ‘

with a startled air, looked at Jack as he came .

fandango.”

When he arrived at the Plaza again be en—
tered Bob Caile’s barroom, where he found quite
a crowd congregated, discouising on the inci-
dents connected with the shooting of the old
captain, and Jack was called upon as an eye-
witness for the particulars, as the barkeeper
was very busy; drinks were called for to kee
up the interest in the story and keep Jack‘s
ton ue limber.

0st of the people were indignant at the mur-

‘ der—it could be called by no other name—and

I poor show

exasperated at the assassin for taking the Cap.
when drinking, and decided that it was not ex-
actly the uare thin , for he Would have had a
d be me the captain when he was
sober, as he was considered the best shot in San

2 Antonio except Charley P 'ron. '

upon the man he detested, his hand went in a ;
ling, quivering manner, around his belt to 3

Instantly his opponent grasped his istol, and '

, one backward, the other ‘

Yes, they called it fair, for a man in his sober ;

Jack swore he’d show t e chap afore mornin’
what shootin’ was if he met him, drawing his
Colt’s revolver f—cocking the same and run-
ning the c linder around, to see if the chambers
were full oaded.

“Jack you’d better let that fellow alone,”
r; “ he’s a dead shot.”

“ He’ll be a d shot if I draw bead on him,”
said Jack, and he replaced his six-shooter in its
scabbard, and sauntered out into the nightair
with a wavering, slouchy gait.

stood a moment on the veranda of the
Plum Ho when he suddenly remembered his
meeting wit Martha Wells on the same spot,
and also that he had promised to see the Clown
in regard to the proposed trip to the Rio
Gran e

He had just drank enough to make him
happy, and at the same time it was but a step
to almost maddening fury. It needed but few
words to make him a hard man todealwith.
In this state he started for the fandango. ,

Crossmg the Plaza to the- est—office and turn-
ing to the ri ht, then the le t, he went on until
he came to t e cock- at ‘

He was now in t e Mexican quarter of the
city and his surroundings made his thoughts
dwe upon these people,,associating them event-
ually with Cortina, the Rio Grande outlaw,
and when he entered the clearing in the mus-
quits, where the fandango—house stood, he had
come to the conclusion that no Greaser should
interfere with his‘dancing or put on any extra.
airs over him. . a _

It had been rumored about town that ies of
the robber chief were in San Antonio, an Jack
tho ht the fandango would draw them, if such
was 6 case, and he would keep his eyes peeled
and watch for them. .

, pulling his soft sombrero down over his
face, he entered the fandnngo—house, and seated
himself among the “ wall-flowers,” by the door,
without attracting attention from any one ex-
: ceplt those near him, who, in the dim candle-
3 lig t, did not recognire him.

i Some twenty couple were on the floor, whirl-
ing in the mazes of a Spanish waltz, to the
1 music of guitars and viUlins.

, There were but few Americans present, and
; Clown was not to be seen. .
Jack noticed there were some Mexicans he

9 tagc, was a gentle wife and young children, who i had never seeninSan Antonio before, avillainous
httlc knew their dearest friend on earth was 1 looking set of half a down, who seemed to keep

1 laying on the public square, his white face cold

m death, his tongue hushed forever.

And who that saw the corpse borne home to

1 them, and witnessed the heartrending agony of

3 this bereaved famil , could ever again honestly

, advocate the sale 0 ruin?

, Oh, you who legislate in favor of a license for
the. as. e of, and you who vend this vile poison,
which bi'ni‘rs more misery, Guttering} crime, and
woe into this favored land than other evils

i to ther at one end of the fund o-house,

‘ w ere coffee. frijoles (black beans) an tortillas
(corn cakes) were sold, and be resolved tokeep
close watch on them.

When the waltz was ended the Americans left
the house,. and Jack found himself the only
“Gringo” m the lace. - .

He arose from lis seat, and en a pretty

1 Mexrcan girl he had met before, led er near the
‘ end where the suspicious Mexicans stood, and

Plains, but I’m squar’ alw’is, and never ’11 go I combined,  you that you will be held guilt- . called for a cotillion.

s,

P‘w-u -~ ...- V

a..—

-r‘- ‘« ‘—"w‘..~J-" wad—4— ..

«:- af—gis stuns...“ ..

 

 

6

The New York Library.

Vol.1.

 

The stranger Greasers instantly took women
and called for a waltz.

Now, Jack knew the previous dance had been
a waltz, and the Mexicans stood one side when
they} could have danced, had they wished.

is was evidently done to show that the ill-
tended te rule the fandango, and to indicate
their hatred for the Gringo, who had no one to
back him.

Jack’s blood was up; he became as sober as a
judge in an instant, and brought his six-shooter
around, handy for use.

“ We’ll have a cotillion, right here, or bu’st up
this shebang,” said J ack- then turning to one of
the Greasers who seemed to hold authority over
the others, e said: “What in thunder have
you got fer say about this dance? In the name
of the devil, your lord and master, who are you,
an how?”

e Mexican faced Jack, and sung in a sneer—
ing, taunting manner:

‘ Soy puro Mexicano, Nada tengo del Gringo,
(I am a ure Mexican, with nothing of Gringo
in me), t en hissed between his teeth, as he end-
ed, Tonto! (fool).

‘ Then I’m a fool if I don’t put a Gringo ball
into you, right here.”

Quick as a flash a long stiletto glittered in
the hand of the Mexican, and he sprung) at
Jack, but, before he had made two steps a ul-
let from Jack’s revolver found hisbraln. The
, other five instantly drew their murderous
knives, and like tigers leaped over the dead
bed of their comrade toward Jack.

ree more, shot through the heart, fell in a
heapK at Jack’s feet, who, not having time to
wor his weapon any further was home to the
floor by the two survivors. Their knives were
raised above his heart; the glittered an instant
in the air and as they saluted down on their
errand of eath, the loud report of a Sharpe’s
carbine rung through the fandango-house from
the open door; the arm of one fell helpless on
Jack’s breast, the glancing ball that had broken
it struck the other on the head, rendering him
senseless, and he fell across Jack’s limbs.

The next instant the wild yell of Clown rung
through the fandango—house, and on he came
with uplifted bowie, which he buried in the
heart of the broken—armed Mexican, while
Jack’s knife let out the lifeblood from the other.

Panting and perspiring with exertion and ex-
citement, Jack worked his way into a sitting

ure, amon the dead, and coolly wiped his

e on the Jacket of the nearest; then, look-
ing up at Clown, who was gazing with admira-
tion at him and his work, he said:

“ Clown, yer in on time 'rms TRIP. I had my
cheeks ready to pass in, but hated dog- oner
to do it to a Greaser. You savedmet edis-
graee and I owe you a life.”

“ er on the wrong trail there, Jack. I owe
you, for giving me the chance to knock another
cut-three. over, but you’ve been playing Davy
Crockett by the look of thin . ow (1 you
get away with all these tellers

“ You jest bet when I start in on the shoot
somethins to . My six shoots lumb
where I hodher, and myfln rsare nim lo; I
had a whole team on me th trip but they’ll
never wear harness a in, nor waltz, either, I
reckon. I swore I’d ce a ootillion ' d Im
a in’ to have it. All the of an Anto-

, Mexicans and Gri eft sudden when
the row commencfi' and reckon the music-fel-
lers thO'ilIVE‘Iit I’d music the rest of the
night. t big cuss there wanted to sing to
me, but I wanted to dance a cotdlion, and I’m
bound to do it. Take that lariat hanging there,
Clown, and rope a few galls, an’ bring em in.’

“ By the jumpin’ J erusilum, Jack I believe
me gettin’ cracked. Did one of the cut-

ts t a lick at yer head? There ain’ta
human bet my Sharpe’s, this side the cock-
pit b this t' e.”

“ ell, Clown, never mind; mosttootuckered
ter dance, anyhow; let’s see if the cusses have
an ing of value about their garments. Here’s
a h of papers; I’ll keep an’ examine ’em
some other ime; and here’s a few doobloons
on this chap; and that galoot there, I reckon,
carried the small change. Told yer so; there’s
enough for a good uare d and a straifen
up drink, all round. e’ll confiscate the knives,
and, look here, Clown, we better swop sombre-
ros with these yaller republicans fur our’n are
gettin’ rather worn an seedy sieepin’ in the
stable an’ usin’ ’em fur night-caps. I’m fixed,
and fitted with a newpne. Just jar them cra-
nium prospectors oufen it, will yer; I don’t care
ter change breeds.”

“ You bet I’ll just swop with this fanc -rig-
ged son of the Montezumas' he has a som rero
with the brim trimmed th gold lace, and a

d-headed snake, with red e es, for a band;
’11 fist set me up nobby, his red silk sash
is w t I’ve been is ’ for. We’ve made quite
a haul, Jack. Loo -a-here, my fingers areso
dangly twisted up since them cumed njins shot
my muscles away, with theirl'lgesklyearrers 11
country, that I ‘can’t git infe t to r’s pocke ,
and there’s snmthin’ hard in it that may be
walu’ble.”

“Roll the cuss over this way pard- I’mtoo
yed out ter'gitu. to-chri'sty

I swan- it’s a
W , he’s the baton-armed

’ chap, so he’s your meat, and the istol’s your’n
by rair'ie law, or sta e law eit er, fur that
ma r. Clown, I wish weren’t so fleshy; takes
a good deal fer keep me on the road. See if
Madam Candlestick left any of her coffee and
uh when she vamoused this respectable ranch.
! ’m as hun as a buffler what’s been bogng a
! week ten foo from the bank on Paint Cree .”
“Here’s slathers of coffee and flxens, Jack.
Git up and sit on the table, or here’s sum chairs,

regular old raw—hide-rippers. Yer ain’t hurt, ;

are e?”

“ o, notbad; but yer see, Clown, I had such
hot work fur a spell ther, and a good load of
Plaza House ' aboard, that I’m kinder foun-
dered like, an don’t care ter stir much, but if
lunch is ready, I’m in, every time.”

And Jack extricated himself from the dead
Mexicans, and joined Clown at the table, where
they both devoured a goodly
provender left behind by the o d woman, who
was sole proprietor of the fandan o-house.

e stron coffee cleared up

feel more comfortable and satisfied with him-
self, especiall as he cocked his 9 9 toward the
silent forms 0 his would-be mur erers.

“ Now, Clown, old boy, just skirmish around
among them Rio Grande chaps furcigarettes,
and then we’ll be all hunk.”

“Jack, it seems to me on want a tame]
sight 0’ waitin’ on fer-nig t. Dog-gonad if I
ain’t gettin’ tired of it.”

“ I’m tired, Clown. How the deuce did yer

happlesn ter come in just in time ter get a hand 3
in '

deal? Why I ’spected fer see er here

when I fust arroved.” y
“ Why, pard, I was intendin’ fer come, when
I told yer this mornin’, but I met Bob Caile,
Shipley, and Bill Rodgers agoin’ to the lake,
an went with ’em to see if I couldn’t knock a
deer over. They are all camped out there to
night, and I cum in, just because I told {on I
was agoin’ to be here; I just came throu the

musquits, had my Sharpe’s with me, ha’n’g been ,

home yet, and a devilish good thing for you, I
reckon, that I popped in here, as I did.”

“Well Clown, we’ll make it all right some-
time. ou may be in as tight a fix yourself,
and I hope I’ll be drivin’ past about that time.
Tell you what, these cigarittas was made in
Metamoras, go Elm a sing on itfiand here among

these paKIers, I d a plan of t e American side
of the '0 Grands, with all the trails, and the
o nin , in the chaparrals, marked down.

e’vegit the right birds this trip. They don’t
waltz arcimd much, do they, rd! Tell-you-
what let’s set ’em up to the tab e, kinder natu-
ral like, and the old madam will get scaired out
of a few brief moments of her too extended ex-
istence. She’s nine hundred and ninety-nine
now, and looks more like a resustreated mummy
than anythi I knows on.”

“ Well, Jac , I’ll help ‘set ’em up,’ but don’t
talk about scaring the old woman; she’s give

me man a plate of frijoles, when I was hun-
shes took care of manyof the boys
when sick. I know she won’t Scare worth a

cent, or I wouldn’t do it. ”

And they lifted the inanimate bodies of the
Mexicans, seated them around the table, lean-
ing their heads u n their arms, which rested
upon the same. 9 candles were left ‘ g
and the two walked to the door, and then stood
and back at their new harmless foes.

“ ey’il never out any more threats, or
sling any cussed talk at us, Clown, and they’ll
never sing, or WALTZ a ’in, without the waltz
aroun amon the ho coals down he ow. I
’Igpect hat’s t e place the went to, pard and

m agoin’ to be good, for couldn’t stand the
climate or company where they are. Come on,
Clown! AdiOs, senors! Buenos noche! (Fare-
well sirs; good-ni ht”) And they tipped their
som reros, in moc salutations, as they sfepped
out into the darknes of the night, leaving the
ghastly forms of the dead men seated at the

ble, ittle streams of blood trickling down the
chair-l , forming a dark crimson pool beneath
the tag: Death and silence reigned in the
usual haunt of music and .

Jack and Clown meandered t rough the mus-
quit thickets back to the town, and during the
walk, Jack told his corn ion in regard to the

rcposed tri tothe Rio rande. Clownea -
fy consen to accom ny the m, and t .e
both stood in the cen er of the , and wit
raised right hands, gfimd up into the moonlit
heavens, and swore ey wouldn’t take a drink
after the dpresent night, until they struck the
Rio Gran e. .

“But, we’ll in and swaller some ’rson now
Clown, to bin this ’ere thing,” sai Jack, and
the entered the Plaza Bar.
legck walked up, and slapped down a dou-

oon.

“ Sa , old hoes, give us a hogshead of whisky,
and a ousand segars and you fellers sittin’ on
them barrels round ther, an’ wishin’ you had
what’s in ’em, all on you kinder herd u this
way, and he! put away the stuff I’ve or ered.
I’ve struck fieidcan gold, and silver; it laid in
pockets, and on the surface, but I reckon we got
all there was about the diggin’s. >

“See Naoei how in thunder is it you
untotmriulrswr Beokon yon must be

 

uantity of the ‘

e somewhat :
clouded brain of Jack Hodge, and he seemed to ‘

lost. I’ll give you four bits if you’ll go and find
Hank, the coroner; I’ve got biz for him.”
C N ace soon returned with Hank, having
' found ' at George Homer’s barroom, and he
made his appearance rather red in the face, and
I over—earnest in his manner.
“ Haloo, Hank!” said Jack, “ take sumthin’ to
steady yer narves, for there’s a job fur you up
at the fandango. A holesale job in our line,

that’ll make that nose of yours a 8 ads less *

brilliant than ’tis now.

“ You’ve got to sit on six dead Greasers, and
they are all sittln’ there awaitin’ fur yer."

“How’s that, Jack? Have you been getting
into a row, too? There has been as good a man
. shot to-day as ever stood in San Antonio, not
:‘ excepting Crockett, or Houston, and that’s the
a old captain. It would take a "good many Greas—
* ers to make up for his loss. hen I say Greas-
ers, I do not mean our Texas Mexicans: they
‘ are as good citizens as we have, honest, reliable,
and ready to fight, in the service of the State,
any time they are called upon. Where are
there any more honest, brave, and noble men
than our Jose Penalosa the Castros, Berraros,
Caravajals, and scores of others. But what do

on mean about sitting on Greasers? Strange we
aven’t heard about an row at the fandango.”

“Well, Hank! I’ll tel yer, after I take an—
other drink. This is my last night on the
whlsk’. I’ve got biz on hand that won’t allow
it; I’m plumb sober for the next two weeks, and
you’ll see a straight trail after me only when I
meander. Fill up, Clowu: you don’t seem to be
very rambunkshlously dry. You are lly
‘ pretty e r for fluids. All full? I-Iere’s suc—
, cess to 0] Rip Ford, and a slow but sure death

to Cortinal”

“Bravo, bravissimo! Good for Jack! But,
.3 explain things to Hank, and the boys,” said
‘ Clown.

Jack turned around, his back to the bar and
yraising himself up by his hands seated his
i fleshy form upon it, aid his sombrero down,
after gazing, admiringly, on his new head-gear
‘ wiped away the pe iration, and, with a
deal of flourishing of ands, told his story 0 the
night’s adventures.

‘Well, boys, the way on it was, I had biz
with Clown here, and thought I’d find him
afiound, pulpit; sgme of thethmnoms up the
c a rra —— on su pose e our 8
woullfi notice him much since he gas ci‘rtgahld
slashed so by the Reds. well, I foddled up that
section rather full, by the way. You know our
suspicions have been, by the way news has
traveled, that Cortina has had spies in this
burgh, and as soon as I struck the fandang’,
and was comfortably uatted, I spotted some
Rio Granders there t at looked and acted
kinder strange; from their appearance, I should
judge they would, either one of ’em stick a
man in the dark, but "twould be in the back,
for about four bits, providin’ the Mexican buz-
zard with the snake in his mouth, weren’t worn
muc , and there was a dead sure thing it
weren't puter. I didn’t see nothin’ of Clown,
and the cha as was there I knew I couldn’t
count on, an Iwas too—tt—redtowalk back for
any of you fellers. I’d liked ter have had Jim
Ransom, or Jim Brennan, there, about then;
but, howsomever, things worked as you’ll hear.
I ewentuall decided to wade in, on a lone
hand, 'pe ded my perspicaciousness hadn’t

back on me. or needn’t grunt, Van

ells, fur you’ll find that in every well roger-

lafed dictionary, and I reckon I can spit out a

word once in a while that’ll go ahead of on,

for you git me, with r billiard talk, ’ 1y

when I’m a little bi ing over with liqlnds, and
my tongue ain’t checked up straight.”

‘Oh! o ahead, Jack! You’re meanderin’,
as you c it,” said Hank.

e:i‘dWher’ was I i” said Jack, scratching his
“” y, just where you discovered the Greas—
ers.

“Oh, yes! I reckon I was. Well! These fel-
lers weren’t dancin’, mind you, but jest standin’
there smokin’ the’r shucks, and ’ at the
gals, what were jest a-flyin’ aroun in a waltz,
and when that war over I lit in on a piece of
brilliant calico, and called for a cotill’on.

“Then them Greasers went for women on
ther jump, and called for a waltz. I seen a
muss war brewin’, and tightened up my har-
gates, but let the check loose on my tongue, you

9 .
“ The gals and San Antonio boys commenced
to t u and git.
‘ I as 'ed the bom-Greaser what he me’nt and
tight? hewwas, 1:3“ pertite; fthcin he] cgmmenced
sing me me a 00 an
“it"“gisimr m “'1 mm 
Y tooa ag -ea andsod'd
my six, as he let at me with big, centre 19.
sticker. I sent him to kingdom-come, and hree
more what follered him, but the other two got
me down store I could use my shooter agm,
and had their steel over me, when m pard,
here, let fly with his Sharpe’s—rifle fromthed ,
and 12:?ng 1“thorn, :oil we fixed them with
our as an e re a-waifen’ for
tharlei Hank. y I y?“ up
ere’s the papers found on ’e fe draw
theybelongtoabognslinemuttholg’sew

 

 

%

 

 

O
,i

 

NW3:

Kit Carson, Jr., the Crack Shot of the West. '7

 

 

I’ll slin for whisk’, as long as’t lash and any
l)0d ls ”

“ ell, Jack,” said Hank. “these papers are
evidence enough, as to their character; here’s a
furlough for six men, signed—Cortma el Ran-
chero—but we know he did not sign it, as he
can’t write his name; doubtless it was by his
authority; and I’ll have a cart 0 up in the
morning and bury the yellow-s ‘ ed spies.
They will have six less to fight on the io Grande,
and you boys ought to have a lette of thanks
signed by Mayor Baquor, and th aldermen.
Jack, you are some on the shoot, I reckon?” '

“Some, Hank, but, better on the drink _Give
us a )russic-acid-cocktail, and don’t shake it. I
see a the Mexicans have taken tofancy-drinks,
and they’re all shook up in the same tin. Here’s
fun. Now, good-night, boys! Come on, Clown,
we’ll bunk inside a stage, by the stable; that’s
my home,” and with parting good-nights from
the barroom loungers—who dreaded the time
when the bar closed, and were always waiting
for it to open in the morning; poor, miserable
slaves, that are found everywhere that rum is
sold, and where is it noti—Jack and Clown
mean around the northwest corner of the
main P
the two or three ours before dawn.

Jack’s lasts words, as he nestled up on the
backseat of a coach, and pulled his sombrero
down around his ears, were:

“ I say, Clown, which yer rather dance, cotil-
l’on or waltz?” .

“ Why, a (-otill’on, of course. You bet! Now,
give us a rest!”

 

CHAPTER V.
CAPTURING A WILD IRISHMAN.

A face more fair you well might find, I
For ‘twas plain he knew the sun and Wind;
Nor boasted, from their tinge when free
The charm of regularity;

But ev’ry feature had the power

To aid th‘ expression of the hour;
Whether gay wit, and humor sly,

Danc‘d laughing in his light blue eye;

0r bended brow, and glance of fire,

And kindling cheek, spoke Erin‘s ire.

LET a man crawl out from under the blankets
which compose his prairie bed, 11 n mother
earth, souse his head into the cree , comb his
hair—that is, if he awakens with his scalp still
in its usual place, and is so fortunate as to be
the possessor of a comb— ut a few unds of
beef broiled on the coals 0 his cam e and a
good-sized chunk of corn-
washed down by a quart o stro black-coffee—
let him then mount his well-tr! m and
start on a gentle lo . through'tbe brillian , fra-
grant flowers of a exas prairie, and if he isn’t
a happy creature, then he must be a consummate
fool, and not fit to live on God’s n earth.

N inc-tenths of the ple in this world do not
know how to live; ey just linger here, seem
out of place always grumbling, no matter what
turns up. Even i it is in their favor, they are
too con rary to own it.

The other tenth, one—half of them live in
Texas—high estimate I admit—and you couldn’t
drive them out, or if you did}: would find
their way back again. Once exas, always
in Texas, is a common saying there.

The other half of the tenth are scattered
promiseuously, around the World, and just as

hey have found out the secret of enjoying life,
thgy kick up, and go under.
here were not six more healthy, hearty or
happy men in the world than our scouts who lid-
ed out of the camp on Banketta Cree at
o’clock the next morning, after ild Will
“ sasha ed ” th the camp.

Rock ess Joe, the dispatches from Gov-
ernor Houston, rode by the side of Kit Carson,
the boy scout; the others following, their mus—
tangs throwing out in front the drops of pearly
dew from the lon rich and flowers—
strong contrast to t e weary leagues of hot sand
they must cross before they reached fort
Brown.

Armed to the teeth, with Colt’s revolvers and
Sharpe’s rifles, all familiar with savage-war,
they were able to stand their own against five-
timcs theirnumber of Beds, or Greasers.

Thus equipped and in spirits ready for enjoy—
ment adventure and duty the rode away over
the flowor-beSpa led prairie, iscussing as they
rode all manner 0 questions and relatin many
an odd experience—a capital way to whi e awe.
the time. In the midst of one of Tom Clark 8
yarns came the order from Reckless Joe: ‘

.“ Halt, boysi Gaze at that bed of flowers;
they extend for miles—just o ning to say
‘good-morning!’ to their father, he Sun. Isn t
that a goodly sight?”

“ Beautiful”—“ gay!” “mighty fine!" “ high-
falutini"—came from the boys.

“ Puts me in mind of my pard’s—Little Yank’s
——poetry:

“ ‘The man who sees no beauty in the simple prairie

ower,

Or the golden tints, in the Western sky, at sunset's
soothi hour,

He‘ll have alghelp for poverty‘s child, no sympathy

for
And I‘d trust him the length of e um, and union
. him as a thief.‘

a to So. pington’s stable, to sleep away ,

l “Every word true, eve time. Even old
" Big Foot Wallace loves bir s and flowers. He
i keeps a tame panther for a ranch-cat to stand

at Banketta this morninor be ore we did, to go 1

home and change his old Kentuck for a Sha )e’s

rifle which he always takes when there’s ot
‘: wor ahead' he will be on hand at the rendez—
! vous in the c a arrals. I don’t think I shall go
,. to visit him on y when I’m sure he is at home,
3 for the panther might not be very friendly to a
j stranger.”
_ “ Is that soz Kit? Then he’s got a ther.
’ Darn good thing if he’d take him on t e trail,
, the cuss could claw 01f scalps and such, an’ save

i a heap o’ trouble, but the tarnal critter might '

not care whether the scalps were on a White or
7?

thing awa toward Casa Blanco, on the prairie,

a pculiar gait foreman tho h. Yes it is a

man—perhaps a Greaser spy! ufilbvide dud sur—

round, boys!”

In an instant the scouts, in a dashing gallop,
ed

were 'mg over the plain, three tothe sent
the o ers to the north, and soon surround

= what proved to be a wildt-‘gyed, ragged, forlorn-

; looking Irishman, moun

upon a diminutive
'aekass, the rider being compelled to draw up
s

3 11s feet and rest them behind on the animal
‘ back—his knees then nearly reaching the

1 tion I am at

ground.

A burst of uncontrollable laughter greeted the
poor fellow from all sides, as the
up
what’s the use callin’ on his migesty He’s too
much cf 3. giiitlemin to be foun in this curse ef
a. counthry. Are yees humans or saviges that
yees go blathering that a-ways? ’Pon me soul,
ef I ’ad me shelaley wid me, ’d
0’ see into smithereensl

‘ Bad luck to the ship that brought me to a
land loike this! Be the powers 0’ pewter there’s

a
“ T’undher and ownes; did yees niver see an
Irishman aforei Be jabers, but I suppose it’s
civil I must spake to yees, being in the sitiwa—
risent.
“Troth, gintlemin yees haVen’t a drap 0’
whis or wather wi ees? Sure I’m famished

 

: intire y, an’ was just h nthin’ a hole, but devil

6 into his stomach, : a h°1° c

u’d I find at all, at all, to crawl into, sa

me o ' the wolves w’u’d givo me a daecnt
wake, oney ow.”

While ' the Irishmlan had slid off the
jackan, u n grass, wit weakness.

The angel’s ears loped down; its eyes were
half—closed; iin neck covered with wood-ticks,
and hair rumpled in every direction.

Taki the two together they were as played-
out a pa as ever was seen.

The Irishmanwasinragsgastifl’beardof
several days’ (growth, unoombed hair, which
bristledinall irections, asbadas the animal’s
he had ridden, and begrimed with \lust and
W were evidences of his disconsolate con-

|

Rangers sprung from their horses and
canteens were held to the suiferer’s mouth;
saddle-bags were ins fed and dried beef and
corn bread were lai
voured like a ravenous wolf. It was plain to
see that the man had suffered greatly from
hunger and thirst.

The Ran rs refrained from asking any ques-
tions until had mtisfled himself in the way of
eatin and drinking. .

Wi a sigh of relief and satisfaction the

' tinnedhisgazeunhiscatom
enemies or friends he knew n which—alfhough
their kindness he thought could come only from
a friendliness, and the look he gave them, as his
. eyes took a rove around the circle, after dispos-
i ing of rations enough for a. whole-corporal’s
i guard, told him of deep sympathy With his suf-

ermhgs.

“ ay the Holy Vargin bless yees all, beS,
and may ees never know hunger an’ thirst
erscls. I ’s a new man I am, an’ a wonder it
i is to me where ye got the grub I’ve been ’atm’.
f Sure it’s a Ian-lg ways ye must ’a’ brought that
; same, for de ' a t ing that I’ve seen that a
' decent man ’ud put in his stuinach this money
h
h

 

a da . By St. Patrick I can’t sa how long, me
ead’s been so strange with the , thirst, an’
un r.

“ ere did you come from, my friend, and
where are Iyou tgoing?” asked Kit.

“ Sure m rom Kill-a-me-thomas, County
Waterford, in the ould sod, and I’m goin’ to the
devil judgin’ from the road I’ve travel .”

“ Yes, but where did you come from last, on
< the coast, at Galveston, or Ma rda ha i”

“ Be jabers, ’twas na her. land from
Boston, at Corpus Christi. an’ ’twas there I pur-
chased a horse, and be advice I cum this we to
start a ranch,” yees call it. 'l‘roth an’t ey
told me there was horses in plant for the
catchin’ an’ I c’u’d live on nothin’ in xas, but,
bad luc to me! Ilostmehoree the fustnight.
I think ’twas sumthin’ he ate that didn’t agree

 

“ Halt, boys 1” commanded Kit; “ there’s some— ‘

that looks uman, bobbing up and down; rather .

rsrode,

to him.
“May the devil fly away wid ees; but, 5

smash the ’hole I

‘ wid the crather, for he was after l’aping and

jumpin’ around, so I was forced to git off him

i an’ camp before I intended; he seemed to take
guard for him when he is awa . He left camp 1,

a great dislike to me, and in the mornin’ when
I went where he was he was no longer there.
As to livin’ on nothin’, ’pon me soul it s man a
long day afore I’m after tryin’ it a ’in.

be wid ye, ould Kill-a—methomas. ’ is there a
fellow could take it aisy, sniokin’ his dhudheen,
an’ bad luck it was me farther’s son ever left
the ould sod.

“Sure, afther I lost me horse, ’twas great
troubles befell me. It’s snakes they must live
on here, for ’pon me soul it’s nothin’ else I’ve
seen, devil take them, for they give many a
scare, an’ but for the pickin’ u of that anamile
there, I’d ’a’ gone dead entire y. ’Twas glad I
was to crawl on his back an’ little trouble, too,
he being so small of his e l’m thinkin’ an’
by his manes I kept clear 0 the varmints. Sure
he don’t mind them at all, at all. A thousand of
’em might rattle their tails at him, an’ hed only
wink at ’em. Jack has been a consolin’ friend
to me in me troubles, although it was hard to
see him fillin’ his belly wid grass an’ his masther
a-starvin’.”

“What is your name, my good fellow, and
why did you not strike to the north toward San
Patricio? You have been in the desert—the
worst part of this portion of the State.”

“Me name was Mike Keefe at ’ome, bedad,
but. worroo, worroo, I’m thi ' ’ I don’t de-
sarve it any more, for comin’ to such a God-for-
saken country, beggin’ yer pardin, gentlemin, if
it’s er place of residence. Sure I’ve traveled
no 1, south, east, and west, and the whole I’ve

(1 until this last hour wouldn’t kape a

it’fiftll 1...

‘ ’e ys,w toneartharewea- ingto
do with Mike? He cannot keep up wigI us on
that jacks; and we must not leave him here to
starve, for do not think he would travel, as

i we direct, to get where he would find friends.

i

y

never a tree or bush growin’, an’ you’d not see 
wather enough in a day’s travel to give a decent
drink to flea.

lVe must think quick, and be on the march.
I have it. “We Will take him with us. Yon-
der is a saddle—marked nag in that drove of
mustan ' along there. I’ll go for him,
and if e horse gas King‘s brand on theshoul-
der, I’ll rope him, and make it all right atthe
ranch with King as we 1x188.”

Loosening his lasso from the horn of his sad-
dle, Kit dashed the spurs in the flanks of his
mustang and sprung in pursuit of adrove of
horses, that were, with arched necks, long flow-
in manes and tails, prancing around in all the

, w' (1 freedom of the prairies. 0
me rayers, and die widout Praste to co e

l

before him, which he de— ,

 

Away they went, Kit in pursuit, heading

them down country.

This movement be' understood by the
scouts, Reckless Joe Mike behind him on
the saddle, and leaving the jack half asleep, his
nose nearly touching the ground, all started on
down toward the fort Brown trail. '

Is there a more beautiful sight in frontier life,
thanadroveof mustangsontherunl ‘

The graceful curvings of neck and back, the
hoofs urning the ground with  t and airy
tread, ' nded nostrils, brilliant, ' eyes

and glossy skin—it seems a pity to enslave them
by saddle or harnem.

onheur, should she study on the plains
d paint an animal. picture that

shade, evon if theydo stand unequaled
theworldinthatlineof art. '

Going at his horse’s test speed, his 1880,
the noose in one hand, 8 coil in the other with
the end fastened to the horn of the saddle, his
sombrero hanging from his belt by the neck-
string, his 10 hair flying behind, and his whole
attention rivs upon the horse he had decided
to capture, Kit presented a picture that would
have made a Camanche grunt with envy.

The  lesser:  the and
ursued, en 0 e lassom wn upon
is own bosom .to spread open the noose;

by a dexterous twist of the wrist it circles
around his amoment, and then is thrown
twenty feet through the air, with the hiss of a
whi . The noose rests an instant over
and forward of the mustaug’s head, then drops,
encircling the neck.

Kit’s horse understands his businem. As soon
as the lariat has igllfirjitovi' the head 0:1 theuinnue-
hang, a ressure o ’s nees, a e .on
the it, and the animal’s whole weigg‘hlt is wn
on its fore—feet his body swm around, b -
3f the captured mustang to e rear, and wi

fouisbplanltfd to resist titre 9310c]: afittehe mug;
tangis ro tsharp‘up y e ir mns’.
the noose. e great speed with which the ani-
mal was running the momentum which the
rope attached to Kit’s saddle-horn has to bear
and counteract. brings Kit’s horse clear 
the ground forward, . ut the horse holds his po-
ti’itionandth'li'ahelaiisouslglasstiffangfliing tasa

ai- 0 iron. in n is a 8n .

prisoner, wild with fury End fear. g

The Rangers ride up. Tom Clark’s lariat cuts
the air from the opposite side, and the mustang
is fast between the wo. Tens Bill leaps tothe
ground, . rings for the cade horse’s head,
and, c as thought, draws the tongue from
the animal’s mouth to hold its head; then binds a
handkerchief about the eyes.

Thehorsehnowblindedandpowerlem. Kit

, .J,.:,..a-w,na.. _

awn”...- _.....r—. - 

 

8 The New York Library.

 

r

e.
The lassos are loosened: the end of Kit’s is .

fastened by a prairie twist around the under jaw
of the mustang, and Kit is inaninstantu n ‘
his back: the ropes are thrown clear by '10m 3
as he leaps one side. Kit, with the lariat in his r
left hand, gently slips the handkerchief of! with 1
his right. 1

One wondering look at his captors, a quakififi f
of his back tha feels the unusual load a w' ;
snort, then, springing high into the air, he is of!
like a meteor.

Over the prairie, the quirt in the hands of Kit
lashing his sides—on, on, mile after mile, until,
reeking with foam and sweat he stops, plunfize
bucks, backs, lays down and rolls, only to d
upon rising the same dread load upon his back.

Kit returns toward the other scouts, gives
him both spurs and quirt; he recognizes a supe-
rior, a master, and is soon by the side of the
boys a subdued, or broken mustang, panting,
and humble.

“He gave you a hard one, Kit, but he’s a
beatpigy,” said om.

“ es, he is a good nag, and gave me some
trouble. He knew what was in store for him
and had a great fear of returning to his old
slavery.

“I would rather re and break two mus-
tangs that had never sit a lariat than one who
has been used by man, and let loose to run
again like this one. Well, Mike, here is a horse
foivyou'iir K1 i i be ’ pard

ow, . 't, sure ts ggin yees in
for bein’ so familia’, but it’s that I hears them
call ye, be the howl Moses, do e think I’d be
afther trustin me e on the bee of that wild
crazy diveli. me, if he’d take the notion, God
help me! where w’u’d he take me an’ no parswa-
shon o’ mine w’u’d civelize him. ’I’on me sowl I’d
rather brogue it from here to the Cove-o’—Cork,
barring the wather, than thry to ride him, even
wid a saddle to houldt on .

“Where is your saddle? Did your horse run
of! with that on his back?" asked Kit.

“Sure ye’r’ right! ’twas that same trick he
played me. The bridle I took from his head,
an’ whin I went for to take the saddle he threw
all four huifs at me at wonst, so I threw the
bridle on the horun and tied the rapscallion to
a bit iv a lant. Me curse on that same plant,
fur ’twas 'ves it had fur Paves, an’ one run
throu h me hand entirely, as the blasted haste
jar on the rope.”

“Well, ull on those loops behind you; loos-
en that b ket, and toss it over here; I will
ride him until we reach King’s ranch. I will
then get a half-ri ged saddle-tree from Mr.
King, and we will ou up and make a Ranger

of you. Can you % t?”

‘ Fight is it Di Ks ever know an Irishman
what didn’t love flg ting as well as whisky?
Troth, there’s few iv the b es iv Waterford but
what’s felt me stick. Bad uck to the day I lost
that same! ’Twas me father owned it before
mez an’ many’s the head its sunshed, rror!”

‘ But, we don’t fl ht here like that, ike we
shoot and out. What do on say, Joe; don’t
youwthink our new friend make a good Ran-

r

“ Possibly, me lord! but I for-bear to
me opinion until he’s made a’quaintancewi the
creek, cut loose the rubbish from his comb-
ed out his sandy locks, and do the hab’li—
ments belonging to the celebrated corps you
mention. From the muscular developments of
the man, which, thanks to the tattered gar-
ments that tfart-rally envelop him, are open to
our inspec on, I should judge that .much
strength sleeps within his frame, and, With re—
cu ration and proper diet—’twill not take long,
{gigging from the extensivenees of his last meal—

will stand a man amen men, and I see no
reason why he could not s ing a six, catch a
rifle-sight uick or pull on a rope.”

“He ' ea han inthemees,to
bring wood, and wa r if nothin more, after
he has dathered himself in the la r ” sug
ed Kit. “ He will make fun for us—I’ll be on
that; and there is something about him that I
like; perhaps ’tis because he came from the land
where my mother first saw li ht. The Irish
blood in my veins warms toqu him more be-
cause he is forlorn, friendleee, ragged, and suf-
feri , and needs our kindness; he shall find a
f in me. I see he is at home with the other
boys, and has them laughin at his mother-wit.
Nothing exc t whisky w 1 set an Irishman
back, and rage his ood humor, and it takes a
good deal of that to o it. But there is a motto
of live—oaks, and a water-hole near them; we
had better In. by until the sun gets more to the
westward. 9 can travel some by night, to
make up for lost time.”

“Your lips speak wisdom, me lord. I’m
ww;fivemerest;hutflrstspread mea

east; hu r is gnawing at me Vitals
ike fox in the man youth’s bosom!”

“Halt boys! I’ll ve you something to

w. b0 you see the buck? Rather unusual
find one so far down the country as this. He
is two hundred and fifty ards awa , but I can
fetch him with ‘ old reha le.’ He take to his
heels in about two skips for he is mumn’ now

dlizrznounts and motions for Mike to take his }

 

and will get scent of us; thebreemisthat way.”

Leaping from his horse, Kit took aim across
the saddle; the report of his Sharpe’s rifle rung
out just as the buck, with a shake of his antlers’

rung away; it was his last leap. As he struck
:he ground, his limbs gave way, and he sunk in

e grass.
Kit rode to his game, drewhis bowie-knife
across the throat of the dying buck, proceeded
to take off the hide, and cut loose for use the
hind-quarters, leaving the remainder of the car—
cass for the wolves and b 3.

While Kit was occupied in dressing the buck,
the other scouts divested their mutsangs of sad-
dles and bridles, rubbed down the heated backs
of the animals with cool, green gees, stakin
them out to graze, after allowing em to drinE
moderately of water in the pool.

A fimr‘elal was sfolpln waging—Mm? niaking himstglf
gene yuse in ringing ue. water, e .
after which he was seen taking a bath in a small
pool on the opposite side of the motte and camp.
A good suppllg); of corn-bread, given them by the
Rangers 9. nketta Creek, was brought from
the saddle-bags, and coffee was soon throwing
out its fragrant aroma upon the air.

Tom Clark came in with a quarter of the ven-
ison which was, in short meter, carved into
8 , and sputtering on sticks, over the coals.

Kit put in an appearance as the dinner was
well under way, having staked his horse with
the others. He threw down the buckskin, and
the other hind-quarter, just as Mike came
through the motto from his bath, looking much
better than when begrimed with dirt and dust.
As the fumes of coffee and fragrant smell of the
broiling venison” struck his nose, a broad grin of
satisfaction appeared upon his face, and he gave
vent to his joy by a wi d, Irish hurrool

“ Troth, gintlemin, Texas isin’t so haythin a
counthry, afther all, whin a men has a good,
decent wash of himself, an’ the prospicts iv a
chance to fill his chist with slashin’s iv mate fit
fura lord, the same inviten’ him h his nose.
God bless ees all, fur bein’ friendly to a lone,
starvin’  sure it’s meself that’ll do an
thing to plane yees, save ate' mate iv a Fri-
day or talkin’ iii iv me native .”

“ You are feeling good, are you, Mike?” asked
Kit. “ I’m glad to see it so, and you’ll feel bet-
ter when we get you fixed up a little. This
buckskinwill make you a pair of leggings when
it is properly dressed and tanned and ’ll show

on 0w to do it. Joe, you are a brick at broil-
ng a steak; that’s the we to do it. Slip a
iecg of fat in betweenvthtzoegn; viiitiisonwneeds11k
atri i onit,oris ry. ain 'e
buffalo“; the juice or gravy isin’t in it, no-
how,.’ A little bacon goes good
bet!

“ I tell you what it air, Kit,” said Tom Clark.
“I’ll be dog- ned if Joe ain’t gay on a br’ile—

ust browns er to a charm but when it cums

r bread of Joe’s makin’,I ain’t ther’. Jim,
here, sa 3 that upngountry Joe would, when he
wason readat 'm kinderhanfiofltill
dark, foolin’ around, and en go fur t e creek,
ecoo up water, lizards, and leaves, sock
in hfi flour, or , and salt, mix her up, and
bake it. Joe, I dont eat bugs, an’ such, often,
and wheh I eat bread I want her straight. ”

“ Silence! caitifl. boat take me for a dog, a
slave, that thus thou wag’st thy foul e
against me habits? Dost think me e e,
metime to ling on this terrestrial sphere,is
measured by quality of the staff-of-life I
choose to mix in an accommodating way, for
such base insignificant? But hold! Give me
patience! Thou hast thesemblance of a man;
act as one, and do not, for the love you hear
your stomach, so rile me tem r as to spoil me
appetite, or there will be a onely, unmarked
grave beside this motto. But this is too grave a
subject What, he! me men-5y men! Come one,
come all! Make this b y. Old Sol ghdes
do?!” “1’?th thebgled byaypalhgato if

“ 099 go “I . Pg”!

on don’t alwis make me take water, back

own, and cork u . You can sling more mixed-
up bosh, what no y can’t make nothin’ outen,
or nobody don’t know nothin’ about, than any
corn-cake ’iler this side of Red river. I !
You alwissgiave a full hand, or mouth I s ’u’d
say. Just at him now, Jim! Kit, is ther’
any of that buck left on the pemrie, or have
the otee go ftp: it? Ijooks like we’re Emir;-
in’ou sho , eway oegoesthrou .
Now I’ll be skillr if he ain’t gittin’ redIn the
face! Don’t sw or such b chunks, Joe. Feed
decent; chawthe stud; don heskeered; I’ll go
and knock anuther buck over. Look out, Joe!
Save them bones to )ick yer teeth; don’t

’em this way. Ha~ a-ha! Hold on, Joe; I’
simmer down; reckon I’ll feed, too, while there’s
somethin’ to for.”

Tom was t 9 last toseat himself at the dinner
circle to enjoy the feast of venison, com-pone
and coflee. .

While the other scouts and Mike had been eat-
ing he had stepped out, seemin !y to ‘ve his
horse more to feed over, y len hening
his lariat, but’hh real purpow'was to rocure a
lo hairfroinflieanimalstul. In emiddle
Ofnglll hair he made a loop, and taking the rat—
ties he had cut from the snake, killed by hlm in
the morning, from his hullet-pouch,he inserted
the same in the loopand drew it tight around

with it, you

Vol. 1.

I the rattles. By taking one end of the hair be-

! tween each forefinger and thumb, and working
them with a twist movement, the exact imita—
tion of a rattlesnake’s warning could be pro-

! duced.

j Returning to cam , he slipped this, all pre—

‘ pared for use, into is pouc again, and com—
menced .ba tering Joe, as we have seen, then
seated him If to satisfy the inner man.

r .The I .were all h , after their long

, ride, and ,Mike . ko the edibles with a

; gusto nearly eq his first meal.

Mike had perhaps half-satisfied his hun er—
? had just tore off from a toasting-stick a uge
steak and taken in a Mus mouthful, when
, Tom, slyly drawing rom ' pouch the horse-
I‘ hair. and rattles, took hold of each end of the
hair, meanwhile drawing the attention of the
fparty, who were all in the secret except Mike

ward the live—oaks to a bird of beautiful
; plumage.

The thumb and fingers of Tom gave liquid:
3 quivering twist to the hair, and the loud rattle

of the st of the prairies whirred, seemingly
just be 'nd Mike.

One wild yell of terrific fright; a scramble
and leap that knocked coffee-pot, tin cups, toast—
mfi‘ sticks and steaks in every direction, and
M] e went clear over the heads of those in his
front, grasped hold of one of the lower limbs of
, a hve-oak, and in_ an instant was u the tree,

gazing With bulging eyes, and pa 0 features
own at the scouts, who were all rolling on the
ground, convulsed with la hter.

“Howl mother 0’ Moses, ut the varmint has
bit the w ole uv ’em! Troth, there’s nothing
but pure good luck, an’ bein’ a divil of a l’aper
that saved me. God help thim, and Satan take
the shnake! Sure it’s the agonies 0’ death the ’re
suiferin’ an’ it’s here I’ll have to shtay till I
wid wakeness, for I’m doomed entirely, if I go
down to be hit by the monsther.”

Now and then a word of Mike’s would be
caught by the scouts, between their fits of lau h-
ter, which only served to make them lau h ghe
wilder and louder, until they were actua y suf-
fering from the odic mirth which they
could not contro. One look at Mike was
enoggh to set them all roaring again, and they
roll and kicked about the camp, trying in
vain to calm down.

“Sure an’ it’s a horrid death to die. God
help them! They'were good b’ys, an’ what the
dim] will becnm 0’ me now?” and crossing him-
self Mike began to mutter his prayers.

Tom took advantage of this, and worked his
way around through the grass until he got be-
hind the tree Mike was perched u n.

The scouts who had smothere their mirth,
knowing Tom’s next move, were laying silent in
the grass, their backs toward Mike not daring
to look at him, for they had laughed themselves
sore.

Gently Tom drew himself up on the o posits
side of the trunk of the tree from Mi e, and
just above him.

Again the blood-curdling rattle of the deadly
snake burst on poor Mike’s ear, and vs near
to it. Mike did not have the nerve or t me to
turn his head. A yell in which was blended
horror, deathly terror, and desperation, burst
from his lips as he went tearing through the
branches to the ground in a heap, but, quick as
$0 t, he was up and off over the prairie in
the tion of the horses, and in another in-
stant he sprung clear astride of the very wild
‘divil uv a horus,’ Kit had roped.

Thefearof the snakes ha drowned allfear
of anth else.

The mus g leaped around, bucked a little,
but soon got to the end of his rope, and felt the
twitch; then he sto ped instantly and became
docile; the recent c oking he had received he
had not forgotten. Mike gathered his feet as
high from the ground as he could with safety,
and retain his seat, holding on to the horse’s
mane with a tight grip.

“ hel me! wher’ will I go if the shtake
was up, an the horns loose? t’s little I’d care
where he’d take me if ’twas only out 0’ this,
where the schnakes ’ll not let a mon ate his din-
ner in p’ace. It’s little good what I did ate will
do me bedad, and ’pon me sowl, I never in all
me lie heard of a schnake that ’ud climb a

thragé

“ rrah, ’twas little clothes I had u n me
back, $08.11 {111’ I’ll be naked as Tim nner’s
pig, what fe l in the vat, if this skarmishin’ oes
on much Ion r. Sure, I wonder if it’s all (feed
they are? roth, the varmint might ’a’ spared
one for company—Mr. Kit onyh0w, as decent
a men as I’ll fin , high or low, an’ how the divil
he c’u’d contint himself among schnakes I can’t
think. ’Twas a black day fur me I left Kill-a-
me-thomas, an’ sure the schnakes ’ll Kill-me
afore I ever see it and Mary ag’in bad luck to
’em, sure, whatever were they made fur? Thank
l(30((11, an’ St. Patrick, there’s none in ould Ire-
an .’

A half-dozen pistol shots now gave Mike a
fresh alarm, only to be turned to jo , as he
looked toward the camp, from which ' tion
the reports had come and discovered all the
scouts on their feet and thrashing around in the
grass with sticks.

_ A yell from Kit, for Mike to return to camp,

 

 

 

 

No. 3.

dear life to the mustang’s mane, who had nearly
succeeded in throwing Mike to the. ground, be-
in alarmed by the reports of the pistols.

it was forced to go to Mike and persuade
him to return and finish his dinner, telling him
the snakes were all killed.

“ Sure it’s
tirely,” said ike, as he slowly; and reluctantly
went back to the motto, wit Kit, kee ing a
wandering, nervous gaze upon the grass e was
to tread.

Most anybody but Mike would have noticed ‘

the half-concealed mirth which was shown
lainly upon the countenancesmf the scouts,
But he was so eagerly watching for snakes, ex-
ting the awful warning rattle any moment,

. that he did not notice how the boys had suf— ‘

fered from an over-supply of fun. _ ‘

“ Are yees mere yees killed thim all, Misther 2
Kit, an’ there’s not a deVil of a won lurking
around? I 

“ What was yees all rolling on the s fur,
an’ yellin’ so harud? Faith, it’s bi be the
schnakes I thought yees all was, and I left
alone ag’in in this cuss ev a c’unthry; I thought
be this, ees wud all be dead entire y.

“ Mist er Kit, can a schnake chmb a tree?
Sure thays has no futs at all, at all.”

“ I reckon we killed them all, Mike. You see
we were rollin around, and yelling, to frighten
them away. s to their climbing trees, a very
large snake can do it.”

“ Fakes, be the rattle ev him he was a row-

we

, Kit Oars”, Jingle 9393.399

7 .. , . if...” ... .. . . 
was not noticed by the latter, who still held for

erscl’s I was thinkin’ was kilt en- ,

3 each

 

as a bull-alligator. That must be Clown. Yes,
I reckon ’tis; was with me last ni ht.

“ Let’s see, what was up;” and ack drew his
legs up on the seat, clasped his hands about his
knees and commenced to think.

“ Oh, es; recomember now; row at the fan-
dan ’; s ootin’, an’ cuttin’, an’ I’m danged if I
don t think Clown and me swore off on whisk’:
and here I am with cobwebs clean down to my
gizzard. Oh, es; Clown! wake up and h’ist
yerself outen t at boot or I’ll bu’st yer bugle.

“ I want yer right here, afore Jim drives up
from the Menger. None yer shenanagin now;
pro 'uce yerself!”

 

 

T e snoring ceased; a rumbling and kicking ‘
e

issued from t stageboot; a scramble, an oath
or two, delivered with marked em hasis, and
then the heavy fall of some weighty y to the

ground.

“W'ell! I’ll just be dog-goned if you don’t
make more fuss about ttin’ out of bed than
Jim Dudley does drivin down the Gaudaloupe
ford. What the devil’s up, or doom, with yer,
Clown? Yer feel kinder top-heavy, I reckon, as
I do myself. Cran in here afore Jim Harding
drives 11 ; rub yer bruises inside here, and next
time 100 where yer drivin’.”

Faint streaks of Milli]: shot up from the east-
ward, lilghtening up t ' gs so the boys could see
ot er.

“You are the dangest lookin’ cuss of a Clown
I ever did see, but, let’s talk this thing over. I
want to know fustly, if we really and truly
did swear o takin’ any more whisk’, last

ser, an’ a lucky mon I was to cskape him. Be : night?”

the powers, he had the back ev me head in his
mouth, as he l’aped frum the thral”

“ Well, Mike, never mind the tamal snakes;
let us finish our grub,” and the scouts, almost
dead with the laughing-fits the had
through, once more seated themse ves, co  ‘
the scattered repast and utensils, and timshed
their dinner without coffee, Mike giving an
anxious look at intervals up into the branches
of the live-oak, or a sudden jerk of his head
backward, as a rustle of the gram struck his
watchful ears. .

 

CHAPTER VI. '
THE TWO ramma GUIDES.

OUR friends, Jack and Clown, whom we left
, asleep inside the coach which was standin op-
‘ . ‘ posite Sappington‘s stable, were awaken t! e
next morning:wa by the arrival of the stage
from Austin ity, driven by Jim Harding, who
blew a merr good-morning to San Antonio on

his bugle as he came within the city limits.
There wasn‘t an old sta r within the boun- ,
daries of the Lone Star tate who could put
more life and vim into a bugle than J in: Hard-
ing, hold the lines or snap a whip With “more
grace although he was young at the business,

as we as in years.

He took great pride in his team, and when
enltfilrmg a town made them show to advantage.
is

who made he wheels hum, and the way

passengers to make fresh grips, to steady them- ,

selves.

Past the stable, and the coach where our
friends were reposing, or just be 'nning to be
broken of the heavy sleep which 0110ws drink-
ing, to the t—oiiice, to throw out the mails,
then across t e Plaza, diagonally, to Commerce
street, over the bridge, and up to the M
House, where the passengers, glad to t to he
end of their long journey of eigh miles,
cramped in a coach, crawled out every
stiff manner and obbled into the hotel.

The rters soon (inked the go all clear
of the ‘boots,” and im’slongwhip sbnttheteam
on their way to Sapp’s stab e to feed and lay
over until the return trip.

b I said that Jack was awakened by Jim’s
le.
erhaps there was nothing upon earth, an
eight -four und battery counted in, that
won] bring ack from the world of nod quick-
gr, fr make him wider awake, than a stage—
e.
e sat up on the back seat, rubbed his eyes,

which were very badly inflamed and not in- !

cling? $0 open as wide as Jack thought they
0 .
t hwas rather dark yet, especially inside the

oac .

It seemed to Jack, after a good rubbin to no
effect, that he would have to wait awhile fore
his eyes would be able to do their accustomed
duty, so he put out his hands and felt about
him, as he could not remember  exact where-
abouts. As soon as his hands came in contact
with the lush, and felt the buttons behind his
resting-p ace, he knew, immediately, where he
w

as.
“ I’m 0. K.; danged if I ain’t. Didn’t know

for sure, where I was. Kinder keerful since
\went and_camped on the brid , got up in a
hurry, bem’ dry, and walked ter the drink
keriiumux clean over my head. I reckon I
took in more water at wonst than ever store or
since: had a surprise part in my stomach.
Ilaloo! who’s that snorin"! as as much fuss

c

i.

articular morning Jim was full insnde ,
and on , or at least his coach w and he
bowled alon with his six fat and W, I

“I’mso tosa —I’m cussedso tosa—
that we (iii-i}: Jack.y We were a Willy's} foolsy to
drink so much, fustly, and a dang sight worse
fools to sware ofl’ takin’ any more, not even
countin’ in a few lingers in a tapering way.”

“Well, it’s settled, then, that we did sware
off; the next question is, air a man or men re-
sponsible, or can a person be held on an oath
taken when he’s just a-b’ilin’ over with p’ison?
That’s what must be decided; cussed quick,
too

we’d better wait for Jim; he knows a heap
about everything. If he don’t come mighty
quick, I reckon ’ll be forced ter decide it, one
way or the other, myself.”

‘ \Vhat‘s that on the bottom of the coach,

Clown? A snake? take care. Don‘t touch the
tarnal thing!”
“Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! Jack. Yer wuss

gone ’n I thought. That’s a halter. If that

. Van “'ells will be

‘ Jim,
‘ come of!

the West. 9

I there until I get outen this coach. Come on,

‘ Clown!

soon at Bob Caile’s bar.

Jim, ‘ou’re the most sensible cuss that
ever runga rake or sna awhip. Easy!
I‘m siaky on the ins. inder loose every-
where. Two or t rec drinks’ll fetch me up
0. K. Jim, did yer see anything of Scott or
Jim Dudley this trip, or Green? But, dang the
odds, if yer did or not just now; some other
time I’ll talk of them. Let’s just h’ist ourselves
for Bob’s.”

And, arm in arm, Jim in the middle, they
turned the corner of the Main Plaza, and were

“Lingswider!” said Jack, “you ust hustle
yerself around here lively, and mix lown and
me the stifl’est cocktails you ever deeocted with—
in the extended term of ears in which you
have distributed fluids. I on’t know what you
want, Jim; spit her out. If it’s chain e
’twon’t set me back. I‘d take it mysequ it
would take the pain outen my up r works.
Slap ’em up, Geor e, I’m powerful t 'rsty, and
ockin‘ around soon, count-
ing my drinks. He says I can chamber more’n
any man in San Antone, except John Arm-
strong. Old Cap. was shot here yesterday,

ut ou’ll hear of more shootin’ to-day that
st night, I rec’on. But, here we are!
Here’s ours, C own. Takin’ginger-po , areye,
Jim? Vell, s’pose you got to sleep a to be
fresh next trip. Here’s fun. I hope it’l make
us feel better, Clown.”

And the boys poured down their drinks, sat
the em glasses upon the bar, and aek
wiped 011' is month With his sleeve, saying:

“ That goes to the right spot; if it’ll only stay
there I’m hunk. ' I’ll walk up and down the
bar; Clown. you sling the news at Jim; I don’t
feel like talkin’ just now. I want this drink to
stay where I put it. There goes George Homer.
Come near buttin’ right ag’in’ that post; he’ll
have to wear g les soon or burst his bugle.”

And Jack w ed up and down the bar-room,
thinking of his proposed tri to the Rio Grande,
of his word given to Mi artha Wells that he

. 1 would escort her through—of how he was
“ I don’t kno’ nothin’ about law J ack; reckon

ing to make things come out smoother and give
up drinkin —of his broken pledge, which rather
rankled in is conscience, noththstanding Jim
Hardin ’s decision. Jack had not the remotest
idea of ettin rum interfere with his arrange-
ments with rtha Wells. and he resolved to
take just enough to steady him, t a , rare

good
= beef-steak and cup of strong co co, then go and

sw’arin’ wa’n’t good last night, I rec’on we’d bet- :
‘ ter make it good—try her over—that is, after ‘
l the conclusion that his first drink was going to

we have had two or three good straighteners

to keep the cracks closed in our brain-boxes.”
“Now yer talldn’ Clown; now yer suit me.

Yes, I rcc’on we 11 do that same. Halloo!

ed on, a double-lashed whip, and his twin
brother along with him!
barreled whisk ! How do do, Jim!
the news? G news? How do feel?”

What’s

pair I’ve seen since I ove on the Pacific slope
among the Di¥eer Injuns.”

, “You can t your last bit that we look a
‘ blamed sight better’n we feel.
. boys unhitch and shove yerself this way. I
‘ want on for a few fleeting periods.”

been playing Maze ,

1 Elect: got a drag. mm
vein last? Acrost the Stake Plains?”

“ Never you mind where we’ve bin; but, look-

a-hore; you shot up, Clown! I’ll t it to Jim,
l are. Now, Jim, Clown an I, after we
,I c eaned out the fandang’ last night—lively
! time, by the way—you see, Clown had been
; huntin’ with Bob Caile, Shipley, and Bill Rod-
!  That's enough for on, I rec’on, to know
‘ ut how he was, and was rather so, so, I
4 admit. Well, like a pair of fools we swore of!

 

here’s Jim. Blest if he ha’n’t got twelve hitch- ’
Curse that double- ,

“Well! I’ll never crack another whip or pull i
another line' if you bo s ain’t the hardest-looking 

l
l
r
i
i

‘ pourin’ down any more p’ison—’twas out ther’ ,
on the Plaza by moonlight (rather dull moon- 3
5 Wells,” answered Jack, “before the couldhann

light, wa’n’t it, Clown?) not very bright, no!
I‘ e swore of! on ’count of a tri

to the Rio,

‘ Grande that won’t admit of fluids of strong a

, character. Now, Jim, we’re
drink. I see jim-jams aheag , sure, unless I
‘ taper; couldn’t stand a sudden haul up; wreck
: my coach anyhow. This are the question; are
| them oaths we took bindin’ on us, situated as
l we were, excited, full of p’ison, it not bein’ very
! light .at the time, and no Bible nearer’n the ca-
thedral an’ we not believin’ in that?”
5 “Well, boys, I’ve knocked around amid the
i confines of this continent considerable, but I
I must say I never drove against two such eon-
summate fools as you are, to hang around here
: blue about the gil s for a drink, and not go and
gt it. I don’t pretend to know much about
! w, but I think it would beahighfalutin old
! court that would take any evidence on oath
from a man when he’s drunk. I wouldn’t give
‘ a pickavune for'yeur oaths.”
. “Hold on Jim, that’s enuf; that’s talkin’; I
slip over all the hard b you’ve 31 at
3 us; a feller is bound to he almost anyt
when he’s dry that’s got the vim to it.

ustdeadfura‘

 

Here! !

put her right there. Shake, pard, and keep it l

[th

see her.
Clown, with some varnishin , told Jim in re-
rd to the shooting scrape at t e fendengo, and
y the time he was through, Jack had come to

stay by him; they took another to keep it com-
pany; then all adjourned to the Plaza House,
and told Bill Miller, the clerk, to order them a
good breakfast: after which Jim Harding ne-
tirelrli to sleep, being fatigued after drivingall
nig t.
Clown and Jack, feeling like new men went
to Clown’s room, spruced n
wentto the residence of the Vidow Wells.
Martha met them at the door with a warm
greeting, and Mrs. Wells hustled around to seat

em.
“Jack, I am so glad to see you; and you,

Let the stable also, Clown. I have been expecting you some

time, but sup I am very im tient. I
hope, Clown, you will go with us. ack has, of

“ at’s up, J ack? You look as though you’d course, told you what we propose to do?”
cords broke loose, and .
you bo 3 been since I l notice to serve you, and reckon we can go

“ Yes, Miss Martha; I am ready at a minute’s
through safe, with horses.” ,

“ Certainly, Miss artha; Clown will go any-
where with me, and is always ready to do a
good turn to the ladies. He is a great fricrd of
your mother’s.”

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Wells, “ I have knownClown'
longer than I have you, Jack; and although I
think it a very dangerous undertaking, that
Martha roposes, I do not know of any two men

in the to I would trust her with, and feel
more confident of rotection, than to on.”
“They would ave to kill us th, Mrs.

her, be they Greasers, outlaws, or ndians- but

wemustflxt' ,cometoanunde .
astothestart, tricksmtake within, t~
awa . I we start right from here at

ten o’clock tonight,- cross the riVer at the old
ford, by the foot-bridge, pass General Niga’
house, and down the river trail, as though
were a-going toward the coast, instead of acts.
coun . Then we will rooms: the river at San
Jose, e through the musqiuts tothe Medi-
na. By so doingwe will, if any one sees us, who
would work as harm, put them on the

scent. Clown and myself will be ready here a
ten, diarp. We Will  arms, ammunition,
provisions, cease—pot, tin cups, and 
—eachtaldngapairotlarge saddle-bars. on
better not lead our horseen
Mi. Martha. 111 you be y!”

“0h, yes,th I shall be recdyat than
you appomt. I think you show excellent
meutmyourplana Iamsogladyou have or»
rangedtogetofl cocoon I shall neverforgd
your kindnes, gentlemen, and hope to repay it,
sometime.” ‘ ‘

“Now, that is enough of that kind of talk,

0

and shaved, then i

htobotheryoum

H.-.  ‘0

 

._._._......._... ‘a‘ ....,.......,— 1.....—

o

The New York Library.

Vol. I.

 

 

Miss Martha; but we must bid you ficod-morn- 1

ing. Mary, I suppose, is at school. rs. Wells,
don’t you worry; we will take good care of Miss
Martha. We have so many things to do, to get
read , that we must be at work.

“ wish you could stop lon er, Jack,‘ but sup-
pose you have much to atteni to. I shall hope
and ray for on all the time you are one,”
said  Wei 8, as she bade good—mornnig to
Jack and Clown, at the door.

The two tip
toward the sta lo.

“ Clown, what kinder specimens of tlemen
do yer think Miss Martha. w’u’d ’a’ ought us
had she ‘ )ed into our coach lodginhhouse this
inornin’ k-a-here, Clown, as lon
travel with me, don’t yer ’low me to git so full

of whisky ’hi. You just lead me into a stall,
tie me up, obble me, but don’t let me 0
like that ag’in. Makes me feel wa down low

folks more so than I am; I’m g we are goin’

into decent company, and where ruin are scarce, ,
i hasn’t set you back an .
l the Medina, below the

ain’t on, old boy?”
"‘ an’t say but what I am, but I shall take a

bottle along, for I know how you’ll feel ag’in to- ‘

morrow mornin’.” '
Ten o’clock, rather a dark night it was, am
being so, was more favorable for our friends to
make the start for the Rio Grande. v
. The cathedral bell had 'ust ceased its gloom
clamor when Jack an Clown dismoun. ,
loosened the ropes, from the loops of their sad-
dle-horns, and entered the gate of Mrs. Wells’
residence, still holding on the lariats, attached
to the necks of two fiery mustangs that pawed
and stain d the award byr-‘the fence. .
But a rim light shone through the Venetian
blinds, as they stepped up to the door, and gave
a gentle tap. The 4 oor swung 13pm noiselessly;
the dreamy light of a single ca 1e cast its-hazy
rays from theyback portion of the apartment
and in its doubtful li ht, by the doorway, stood
Miss Martha, attire in a beautifme embroi-
ered suit of buckskin, ornamented rofusely
with silver buttons along the seams, which were
also deeply fringed; a soft sombrero, one side
looped u with a five—pointed silver star. and. a.
blue plume gracefully drooping behind—-
all gave a. brigandish look to her supple,
graceful orm. . -
A Sharpe’s carbine, skin from her shoulder
by a strap, made up, with or high-legged rid-

ing-beets and long-roweled Mexican spurs, a
Run 1‘ rig.
er hair ing out even with her shoulders,

and‘skin darkened, she did not look any more
feminine than many of the boy Rangers then in
the service of the State.

Her mother, with tears flo ' , and sobbing
convulsively, came with her, to id good-by to
the boy: and along farewell to her dau hter.

“Ta e good care of my girl, Jack am Clown,
and bring her back to me safe.
and protect you, from all harm!” ,

A silent shaking of hands all around, and

bless you,

Martha, too full of ' f at ' , and ,the
sight of her mothers tears, stepped
around the house,'and in another instan a

penned before them, mounted on White Clou ,
or the road.

Quick fly, Jack and Clown recoiled the ropes
looped em to the saddle-horns, mounted, am
all three dashed down the street.

San Antonio was, at that time, frequented by
vagrant Mexicans, and outlaws, only too eager
to take advan of any party starting out
from the town, w 0 were not strong enou h to
hold their own against them: hence the si_ence
and precaution used by our friends. .\

The ford was t; the now silent old under-
shot water-whee covered with slime and m
was left behind. Past the residence of Gener
W, and they were soon in the down-river

' among the musquits.

“ pur uppMiss Martha; we must make the
next eight miles in short time. Come on,
Clown!’

Dashing the spurs home into the flanks of their
horses t ey bounded on like the wind down

SanJuan and Horse Shoe Bend. bu, on,
a wild gallop, and they come, inside of half
an hour, to Granger’s Ranch, just across from

Jose.

“ Halt!” Short and quick oamethe command
from the li of Jack, and the three stood oppo—
life a sma , d log-cabin, with thatched
roof out one side open to the weather.

.“ i never pass here, Miss Martha, without
stopping, and looking at that little cabin. Who
do you an built it?”

‘ I not say, J ack,” answered Mix

Martha.

“ Well, I’ll tell you. Two years ago two he a,
who came away from Leo ' r, u-
settI—I never havo been ther’, but I know it’s
wa a: north, 5 thoiuand leagues, I rec’on—
thall- eads fullof romancean loveof adven~
turo,.located hm, felled thetrees, and built
that little cabin. They lived there .six weeks,
then thalndians came within five miles from
here, and murdered and mutilated men, women
smwmrmmnwg
. a no
men readin’ Cooper, I rec’on) a. min»

8 of the manners, and t t juotnatis-

’ scen
fled them about Mr. La; they broke up home-

‘ rec’on.

(1 their sombreros and walked :

asyou!

 

kee ing, shouldered their rifles, walked to San
An nio, bought horses, bridles blankets and
tricks, joined the Rangers under (Bigot. Bui'leson,
and have been a-fighting for the tato since, I
You ought to guess who they were by
this time.

“ 011, Jack, I am so glad you came this way.

!

I never could find the cabin, and have looked ;
,‘ often. I have heard so much of the boy ranch-
. ero. the boy Rangers Buckskin Sam and Reck-

loss 0e, even before Iknew them 1personally. I
love every log in the dear little (:8. in.”

“ Yes, I know all that, but we must dash on.
Nobod thinks any more of those boys than
Jack; but we have long miles before us,” and
again the trio gallope
tom, cr

!
!

through the river bot- 1
the ford past the dark gloomy , are but few horses his equal for speed and en—

“ Don’t on believe yourself; m face as
everybod s, contains a great deal t at is false
in it. W n I am hap , or look so, I am some—
times blue; and now am powerftu taken
back by your havin’ a white horse; it seems un—
lucky to me. The Reds, or Greasers, or any—
body, for that matter, what’s got eyes can see a
white horse in the night, when a bay, brown or
black would not be seen at all, and if I had only
thought, you could have ridden-ii black of mine
that's over to Charley Pyron’s ranch, or at least

9 we are now right on his range, but it’s too late

to make the change.”

“Well Jack there is one consolation; if they
do see to Cloud .they will have a hard time
of it to catch him if I am riding him. There

walls of San Jose, and entered the niusquits, y durance.”

that stretch to the Medina river.

They now took an easy gait, having done all
therr could to throw any enemy off their trail.

‘ Well, Miss Martha; I hope the brisk ride
life better camp on
0rd, in the bottom tini-
ber, where nobody will notice us, and have a
rest, as you will have to make lon etc 88 after
we get beyond the oak openings an on heo ion
prairies that lay out flat to the Nueces river.

“ I do not feel tired, Jack; I often take a gal-
lop down to San Jose, of an evenin , for exer—
cise, but we will camp whenever an wherever
you choose. You are chief of scouts, in this
command. How do you feel, Clown?”

“,Well, Miss Martha, I have never felt what
you may call well since I was shot to pieces by
the Reds, but I make out to get through wher-

ever chance semis me, somehow. I’m more at ,

home now than in San Antonio. I don’t feel
easy anion the houses. The prairies for me,
eve smell”

.“ do not blame you for loving the plains and
woods. Nature has charms which no one with
any poetry .or religion in his nature can but rev-
erencc admire. The works of God throw
the pigmy efforts of man into insignificance.
The mountains, canons, prairies, rivers, woods,
rocks and streams, have all their separate won-
dersand beauties, to say nothing of the various
varieties of birds, beasts, fish and insects that
are found in or about them. But how dark it
seems in these musquit thickets. I do not un-
derstand how you can possibly know where you
are goin , Jack, for I see no stars to guide you
to—night. .

“I know every inch of this country, Miss

ha; we are now in a more clear trail, and
can lope a little faster. We’ll soon get to good
ass and water. M head feels kinder funny-
aven’t slept much 0 late. What yer laughin
and gruntin’ ’bout, Clown? You can’t say but
what on have had your regular rations of
sleep. Miss Martha, we shall have to run a lasso
nooge aroundh  1nose, and draw herdtight every
ni t, or ewi ringawar- ownonus;
£0811” out-snore any bull smile in Buffalo
on

‘YDoh’t you fret, Jack; I know when I’m on
the plains, and when I’m in town. I never snore
when it would be dan erous, and when I wake

up I generally know w ere I am, and don’t have ,

to feel around and scratch my head to get my
exact locate!” . -

“See here, Clown, you make more fuss about
a little thing than a rattlesnake in dog-days,
and ur speech are about as p’ison as i
breath. Were you playin’ of! sleep yesterday
mornin’l”

“I’ll leave that for you to guess, Jack- but
what’s u with you now? Ride on if you on’t
see noth n’; if yer 0, so. so, and what it is!”

“I’ll ust bet my life see three—well, never
mind; e up, Clown! Miss Martha, you drop
behind a minu .”

As Clown rode up to Jack, he was asked by
the latter, in a hurried w r, if he did not
notice something wrong rm to the right.
(lighwn spurred up thro the brush, but found
no ' to attract hisa ntion.

“ What in thunder’s the. matter, Jacki
What’d yer think yer see?”

Jack leaned over on his home and whispered
in Clown’s ear, “ Three Reds, I’ll bet my sculpi”

“That’s da nonsense, . hlf there hagga:
been or con] ’t ’a’ seen em ere; or n
11 htyzag’in. Take a snifter outen Eilsbgttle;

it’ fetch yer out hunk, for a. while.” I

The is gurgle of the liquor as it flowed
down ack s root was drowned to the ears of
Martha Wells by the swaahing of the branches
as they were parted by the horses’ legs. ‘

“ Now, Clown, you  bet that’s gay. Right ;

to the t she went, ye. Yer the most
sensiblespocuas I ever knocked around with.
Mustn’t let Min Martha know nothin’ about my
boin’ shaky; mum’s the word. Ride up,
Wt”. sung out Jack, feeling much better
after taking a nip. up between us; the
trail such as it are, widens here.”

Ills Wells cane dashing up between her two

p "There are two. thingglthat bother me on'the
stat, Hm-unthahmuc y ” said Jack.
“I num'you,thtii'ck. itisamrprifsetoigemto
hear bothe , r .
“"w” 3 "viii/twig to

alwa o. Wily happy.
trouhlgyog ’

 

“ It’s a good thin to make a long or fast run,
but it’s a better t iin to avoid both on along
trail. Howsomever, I olpc thin rswill come out
hunk. In s ite of myse f, Miss artha, I can’t
help from biting off m words and using slan ;

‘ it’s hard enough in tow , but worse in the bus .

I can talk as straight as a West Pointer, or any
other waxed-mustached loot, but I scorn to
do it. I always try in t e presence of ladies,
but ou see that’s not often, or long at a time.”

“ on‘t you curb your tongue for me, Jack.
When you are on the prairies, do as the prairie-
nien do.”

“Now, you please me muchly, for I have
caught you new a stable word. The other
thing you haven t asked me about. What
bothers me is calling on Miss Martha; on are
acti as a man, an make a splendid- coking
one, must admit. We must get u a name to
fit you in your new character. hat do you
say to “Young Reliable.” You carry an “Old
Reliable” rifle, and I’m so used to them, and
Clown, too, we will be able to catch at the name
quick. Suppose we call on Rely, for short?”

“ Ihave no objections o the name, Jack, but
shall have to rely upon you to put me in mind of
it at times; I may lose my identity.”

“ Oh, you will soon get used to the name, and
it is necessary, for various reasons. Here we are
in tall timber; the river isn't a hundred yards
away and we have ' ruck the lly where I
intended. We can we a fire wit out its being
seen. We’ll ride in, unsaddle, and take our nags
out to grass am the musquits.”

Just at the foo of a lingo pecan tree, the
saddles, tricks and traps were deposited.

Re y (as we .must in future call Miss Wells),
refused all asmstance, and was ready with her
nag as soon as the be is, showing that she was

. used to taking care of er horse. Jack took his
! own and Rely’s animal, and leaving Rely to see

 

to the camp, went out to find a ood grazing
spot, followed by Clown leading s mustang.
They soon found suitable places, gave the ani-
length of rope to get plenty of grass,
and on the return.
“ Look-a-here, Jack; do you see any more In-
unsor snakes, or do er winkers quiver any?
so, take another p at the root of all eVil.
What’s in that bottle has got to straighten us
up, on know. You just gobble d0wn all the
fat acon and strong coffee you can; they’re
for ye' an’ I’ll give yer a chance ter sleep,
standin’ the fust watch till about two o’cloc '.
I in too nervous myself to slee , and don’t care
to. Often go two or three nig ts without sleep.
When yo’u wake up I hope you’ll know where
yo ml
. ack took along pull at the bottle, and with—
drgzdthe sumo from his lips, as Clown’s speech
en .
“ See here, Clown; Ker better cork up on that

trail; haul in yer slac tongue or yer might get
boosted.”
“ I’m agoi to cork up right here, and you

don’t get anot or drink until we start off in the‘
mornin’, and it must be early, too, to clear the
houses afore they’re 11 . If yer go to gettin’ at
all , I’ll bu’st the ttle.
“ Now don’t do that, phard; some on us might
et snake-bit. I feel at way in in bones.
I’m just as mum as a mummy. Save t e bottle
and what’s in it- that’s a god .”

By this time ting came the tree where Rely
sat with the sad es. A fire was soon made
and a midnight lunch eaten; then the scouts
formed a bower of branches to shield Rely from
theheaaigadew, and she lay down to rest, and
Jack, , at the head of the filly, while
Clown meandered back and forth tween the
slee rs and the horses, the owls booting over
his sad, the distant bark of the cayotes, and
the faint ripple of the river being the only breaks
to the stillness of the night.

.._———

CHAPTER vn.
RESAOA DI LA PALMA‘A DASTARDLY 91151),

The western waves of ebbing day

Rolled o'er the glen their level way;

But not a setting beam could glow
Within the dark ravines below.

The wandemr'a eye could bare view
The summer heaven‘s delicious lue

So wondrous wild, the whole might seem.
The scenery of a fairy dream.

I FOUR days after we left our scouts encamped
at the post-oak motte, and where Mike O’Keefe

 

 

 

sf'vr

1.

 

No.3.

Kit Carson, J r., the Crack Shot of: the West:

 

 

 

 

had enough rattlesnake ex rienco to last him
for a long time, we overta 0 them away down
countr . _

The s had made good time, and Mike got
so he con (1 ride the “ divil ev a horns.” A red
woolen shirt, given him by Kit2 w1th the leg-
gings from the buck hide, gaVe h1m a somewhat
better appearance than when we last saw lnm,
but the want of a sombrero was felt badly as

he had nothing to shield his head from the hot :

1

doiu’ there, VVhitcyi” repeated again and  isn‘t a- oing to lose them for a day’s ride; he
again. will be ere after them this eve, h dark. Joe
This refrain sung, or wailed, in so strange a , Booth, you and Tom Clark lay ow in that
manner, in so strange a lame, by so outhful a = wagon, with your Colt’s sixes, and don’t let any-
voice, was, as Reckless . oe matte , “passing : thin that comes into this opening that looks or
strange.” I smel s Greaser go out again. They’ll be sure to
Tom gave a warning hiss, from between his 1 be smoking cigarettes, there is such a bad odor
teeth as he parted the brush; the scouts fol- ' here, and that’ll give you a chance for sure
lowed, and found themselves on the margin of shots.”
one of the many openings frequent in the chap— Tom and Joe crawled under the wagon cover,

sun except a handkerchief. y arrals, they being without tree or bush, covered
Our scouts, after a long day’s ride, begrimed 1 with rich musquit grass, and favorite places

with dust weary and worn were ust entering ‘ for camping.

the dark shades of chaparral, that rder on the { When the scouts broke through the branches,

Resaca de la Palma; to their left, and eastward 1, and all stood to rether by the side of Tom, a

stretched the prairie battlefield of Palto Alto, before them that sent the

to watch for their inhuman game, and Kit and
the other scouts tenderly bore the wounded boy
upon the blanket to the camp.

Laying him carefully upon a mossy bank
they gentlfy bathed his wounds. To their hor—
ror they ound that the flies had blown» the
wounds, and maggots were crawlin in and out

1 si ht was ser
the rank glass growin over the graves of Mexi— b 00d from their faces, and left them blanched
can and Amencan so diers. The soon pene- as death—a sight that sent a thrill of horror
through their frames-a sight that would be

hotographed upon their brains as long as life
asted, were it a thousand years.
Not fifteen feet from them lay the swollen

trated the cha rrals and were in t e cool shade
of palms, on t 6 banks of the chain of water-
holes, too slu gish to be called a stream.

Altho h t e sun shone hot upon the plain be—
yond, an

i
i

!

overhead, not one single ray pene- f mutilated corpse of a man, covered with bl

of the stabs in head and breast. ey
the wounds in a primitive manner and water
was kept dropping upon them.
His moaning cry to his oxen—he was wont to
assist his father to drive—was still kept up, but
I in a fainter voice, and it was plain to see he had

trated the dense foliage of palms and rank ; and clotted gore, the clothing torn in shreds ‘ not many hours to live.

(‘I‘eepe
which they depended for so rt
The horses were un.
rubbed down, and allowed to drink; then
and Tom Clark proceeded u
opening for them to ,
scouts p ed to make a fire and Iprepare the
meal so much needed by them after t e long ride.
La numbers of waterfowl were in the waters
of t c Resaca, and were so tame they were en-
abled to knock them over by crawling up to the
rushes; so they had a chan from their regular

bill of fare, and a btmntifugle repast was befom ,1

the fire in a short time.

rs that strove to smother the trees upon 1 from his mangled form; but this was a sight ,
led. immed' tel , so
Mige ‘

to find an , the man, sitting astride of it, was his litt e son,
graze, while the other I

They were now within six miles of Fort '

Brown, right in the lurking laces of Cortinas
stragglers, where these ban ts pounced upon
those leaving or entering the fort, 1111111181125
and robbing them. Mike and Tom Clark h
perhaps been gone with the horses fifteen min-
utes when the scouts by the fire were brought
to their feet by a wil ell from Mike, who
came tearing through the rush like a madman,
hisfacemasdeathwith terror, and fell in a
heap wi the camp, speechless with feat“, and
trembling like an aspen.

Kit took him by the collar and sat him up
against a tree, givin him a good shake.

“ What‘s up now, ike? it it out quick, or
I'll choke it out of ryou. re’s Tom, and
what have you seen

The scouts grasped their rifles and Mike came
in, and now stood eagerly Watching the int
from which he came, 8 an attack gem
that quarter, or danger in some form.

Mike gave a heavy sségh, turned his face up
the cree ,the horror 1 photographed th
his eyes still gazin or glar1n with a dread
anticipation. At ast he foun his tongue, and
holding the le of Kit with a ti ht , as
tho he mils onl savior, he roke ou :

“ the t abuv’ us Mr. Kit, show
me out o’ t is and don’t be afther askm’ me
what I’ve seen; sure it’s nothin’ w’u’d make me
fale, as I’m after falin’ at this prisant moment
but murther. M my God, what’s anti
Horooh, it’s Misther mu safe and sound.
Heaven be praised, an’ it’s himself that can'tell
yees the tale 0’ blood that la ondher. God
spare me such another Sig? ' ethat sameso
long as me name’s Mike O eefe!”

At this juncture Tom Clark came in sight,
partingethe brush with both hands and showed
a coun nance equally as le as ' 6’3, but de-
void of the terror that in ividual had manifest-
ed, but in its place, acting in brotherhood with
the set teeth, was a stern determination-a
most startling combination of hatred and un'sat-
isfied revenge, that told mmethinbguof more than
unusual moment had come over .

He did not advance to the camp, but stood
there, gazing at his brother scouts. ‘

“By all

he Gods of ancient Greece-what  quickly.

means this mystery? Art thou me father’s;

ghost? If so, await the mystic hour of mid- ‘ to camp for a blanket to carry the poor lad in

Ifiigcht before thou haunt’st me vision !” exclaimed on. Joe, 1you streak it right across the opening.
kless r

Joe

I s

i
i

The untested meal lay dryin u by the
camp-fine; the scouts bent over t e ying boy,
11 their faces.  be ing his reason would return before death.
ead, sun-bloated co of i e darkness beneath the lms became more
, dense, for the sun had sun into the western
sea, and by the flickering rays of the fire the

scouts still watched the little sufferer.

His moans ceased, and his faint breath came
and went, with hard] a tremor, as the quick,
‘ sharp detonations 0 several revolver shots
‘ sounded loudly through the chaparrals from the
direction of the scene of the murder.

As the first reports almost together, broke
‘ the awful stillnem of the camp, the boy gave a
,‘ wild cry of horror, sprung into the air, and fell
e held a whip in his hand, one end of the ‘ a corpse at the feet 0 the watchers.
staff restingu nthe ground,beingtoo weak to ‘, “Come on for the wagon, bo s; ’s over
hold it up, an gazed at the scouts with avacant with the poor lad. Come on {hr ve ’ance.
stare of insani as he kept up his unearthly There’s more’n one Greaser come for the Jacket,
chant: “Whoa, ‘ig! Get up along, Spot! What
yer doin’ there hitey?” striving in vain to ;
ash his oxen, that lay dead and swollen but a ‘
few feet from him.

Silent as death were the chaparrals; not a
hyr caused the tremble of a leaf; a score of i

too common to these men to cause the feelings
lainly stamped u
ere, upon the

seven years of age, blood oozing from a stab in
the little fellow’s tom )le, from a gash in his
breast, andhnother in 's wrist. '
The poor suffering lad had torn away his
clothing, in his a ony, nearly to nakedness; the
blood had flow freely from his wounds, and
dried upon his person, by the hot sun, present-
iill‘g a horrible contrast to the white, delicate i
s 11 made more livid by the loss of his life-giv-

inglfiuid.

The so sprung thro the now dark cha-

toward the wagon in which Joe and

om had awaited the return of the Mexicans
for the jacket and knife.

As they neared the scene of the murder, a
hy buzzards were gorginlg themselves upon bright light broke upon them showing them
the entrails of the oxen w ich they had ex- 3 their way, and when they reac ed the opening
tracted from the animals by an art, aided by . the wagon was in a blaze, while Joe and Tom
instinct entirely their own; a pack of coyotes 1 were agalloping around 11 n the horses, with

v

islunk cowardly from the opening into the 1 fine er-mounted sad es and bridles upon

 

shadows of the bush; ten thomand buzzing flies f them.
hovered around the fast decaying carcasses of i The scouts from the camp stopped on the
the animals, and a horrid, sickening stench filled E border of 1i ht in astonishment, and Tom and
the hot, hazy air. 1 J 0e, seeing t em rode u to their comrades.
The scougs stocztlimrivehtgg to thsgpot, tealll‘: ‘éthhere themevil di you fllggt 1iglemnh

summing own ire ks—a s' .an owcame ewagonon ? ask
for such men to be seen in tears—while e salgme Kit. ’ ya a
monotonous chant of the wounded insane boy, “We swapped saltpeter and lead. blin and

rding the dead body of his murdered father lit the wagon to see if we got a barg’in, ’ an-
rom the wolves trembled in quivering tones swered Tom.

“Gentlemen,” said Reckless Joe, “no doubt

u n the air: “ 0a, Ni ! Get up along, Spot!
hat yer doin’ there, hitey?” and each and j on have often heard me remark, ‘ I’d give me
every cry, or sigh of pain or ufi' of his breath kingdom for a horse.’ I take it back. I have
sent out a thin spray of bl from the wound I one, without sacrificin me ternal patrimon .
in his breast, showing the lungs were pene— There’s a steed, bplys,%hat’li)atake me over e
mountains, and r

trated.

Gently as women the scouts flogged up to the owe that Greener a deb that’ll never be paid.”
maniac child and took the whip in his feeble , “ Where are or Greasers and how man did
grasp, rai him carefully from his father’s : you take in, out, of the wetig’ Kit demand .
corpse, and laid him in the shade, on the border | “ There’s just three on ’em. You’ll find one
of the opening. The murder must have been y horse with ours: he stam ed that way. They
committed twenty-four hours before. The boy 1 are all sittin’ cos on e wagon—box—took an
must have been left for dead, but had recovered 1: inside seat that w u’d 'ust please Jack Hod if
and watched over his father’s , without he were here. Wait the blaze flares a is
food or water for that tune, which was enough and you’ll see ’em. We thought we’d give ’em
to have driven him mad, had he not been a foretaste of the climate they’ll have ter scout
wounded. These were the conclusions of the in fur the future. One cuss made his will; left
scouts at a lance. Bill Mann water in

his, toga—decent ones the are—to our Mike. I
. his hat, an bathed the young and sent a explained his situation him. Ti top som-
stream down his throat; the other scouts left Joe,

h' ‘ Bill’ th 11 inord th openwd mm :1 myythin’  it:
Im m 8 care' 6 CW 01‘ was, m 6 oran 0111'
who were the mlirdeletrgiinglflt made his plans 8 g

to a slug.”
Bill George, you go back

 

“ Your bets are suitable for the vol hard
I never consider anything less than a?“ e of
Texas land when 1 make a wager. I tefi ou
’twould not y upon an em’ty stomach. ’m
furnished, an no varlet bids me to the feadz,”

“ Step easy, boys!

: Tom Cla , you circuit the south. and Jim Bear- 2

Tom turned on his heel and faced the thicket i field, you lay armmd on the north. Now, boys, i was Joe’s response.

from which he had just emer
same beckoning gesture made the ghost in
lfliamlet, but'tlzgre was 1121 show o¥ burl

ls manner- e same ngular blend
rested upon countenance.

“Unhand me, slaves! I’ll follow thee if to
me death. What ’tis I can‘t conceive. but see-
ing is to believe ” cried Joe.

“ Jim Bearfie d, stay by the camp. We’ll see

what this means. For the life of me, I cannot 1 sad 0 blanket evident!

understand what’s up. Come on, boy!” com-
manded Kit.

Seeing that Tom did not come into camp for
his Sharpe’s rifle, they knew no immediate dan-
ger threatened, and so only took their side
arms.

The crashed through the brush for ten min-
utes, om them but a few paces
when a very voice, for that secluded

chapaml. broke upon.their em. It was that
of a oung lad, a wild weird wail, a monoton-
ous .c
and it ran, as far as words went, in this

, giving the do our best lookin
no in , thin here about the wagon.”
look  Afis
derers; the Opening was a book which they
read

t, that sounded through the chaparrals, i
“Whoa, Nig! Get up along, Spot! What  ‘ cutthroat that left this jacket and  ilhind i threat

for signs;

don’t passa‘ The we be anold one of hen oak
at talks trail. ' gm mg ’ vy

I’ll see to . frame, blazed high into the sky for a long time
1 but at last collapsed intoasmold (ingot
red-hot coals, in which the bodies of 6 xi-
can robbers and murderers were charred to

. must ashes

Kit had not been tenlminutes about the wagon Slowl and sadly the scouts left the openifi
. and the dead—w ich’ were stri of or - aftercu branchestocovor the body of
. of value- hen he foun under an od murdered ranchero from the hot sun, audalso
left by mistake, a from the wolves and that would have
1 beautiful] embroidered uckskin acket, with enough to so them. for some days devour-
;agold stilettc,engravedwi themmo ing com.
‘ ofJose Garcia. at Fort Brown,
, There were, also, two letters in the pocket, possible.
‘ written in sznish, which Kit secured abouthis The dead lay lay white and ' d, on the
mossy bank the  de la —the
lug 9ver him.
bv 1.10 need of the

2 men, not vin time to peruse them, as he
formed ideas regard to the jacket which , ‘
and mo-
tionedftoscootstostandaround ebod .
“NW, wifi:

alteredhis lans -Kit
fiemen, Toms! swear

me

‘ scouts rejoined . over this of owifl t indeath—mur-
“lac need of any further investifiiou, boy‘s; , dared innocence n honest ,

.thisistheworkofOortina’ssnea ‘ e MWCormg-ranfiiysofhhm

sing e spear of grass
separated to gather evidence of the mur-
I

 

An hnitation of the cry of the chaparml cock
iuuedfromhisllli , andinan instant theother

 

. and the 332 may want hel ,” were Kit’s words. _

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act of barbarity. Keep the dying scene of this

oung lad, who did suffer a thousand deaths,

fore our minds, and show no quarter, no mer-
cy to the bandits of the Rio Grande.”

The scouts, with uncovered heads, raised their
right hands over the dead boy and out on the
still dark air of the cliaparra s, with terrible
earnestness and deep meaning, rung out the
words—We swear!”

“ Now, pards, we will roll his cold form in a 

blanket, and lay him in this cosy nook, until we
go to Fort Brown in the morning. We can
carry him there and give him Christian burial.”

A silent gIOOm fell over the party. Even ,
Reckless Joe, as they eat their Simple prairie 1

'ineal, had nothing to remark, who was always

the life of the party. Not one there had a more
tender heart, but he showed it more in actions
than words.

Poor Mike, completely exhausted b his long
day’s ride, had so t y the big m trunk
soundly through a the bustle, ut awoke as

the scouts were rolling the corpse of the child
in the blanket, and occupied his time until the
eating commenced, in alternately muttering his
prayers and cursin r the Mexican devils for
murdering a poor ' ant.

The scouts, after satisfying their hunger,
rolled and lit their cigarettes, while Kit, who
did not use the weed in an form, drew the let
ters from his cket whic he had taken from
the Mexican’s Jacket, and commenced to peruse
them. Suddenly he sprung to his feet.

“To horse, be S! to horse! uicker'ii greased
lightning! They ve formed a p ot to assassinate
Col. Ford at Fort Brown to—night. The Greaser
bloodhounds are even now on the we from
Cortina’s camp to the fort. Spring or the
mags! \Ve must be in Br0wn inside this hour,
or ‘Old Rip,’ the Chaparral Cook of the Rio
Grande, is lost to Texas forever.”

“ Brin me horse! me kingdom for me horse!
I would not that I should be absent, at such a
time as this, for forty kin doms,” said Joe, as
the scouts sprung through t e chaparrals to the
grazing place of the animals.

“’Pon me sowl,” said Mike, ashe scrambled
through the brush, tearing himself with the
'many thorns, “ I never heard tell ev such doin’s,
let alone bem’ mixed wid ’em meself. T’under
and ownes, a man can nathar sla or ate for
the horrible scares he gets. Trot , when yees
are not watchin’ to )reserve or life from
Ingins or Grazers, bar luck to em, it’s every
kind ev bug an’ reptile that’s afther ees.

“Good-by, ould Ireland, an’ Kil -a-me-Tho-
mas; me eyes ’11 niver have the pleasure of

' ’at yer . en ho a ’in. Sure me sisther
Elnary ’d cryfiirgrself figuig, entirely, ev she was
afther knowin’ the fix I’m in.

“ Howly mother 0’ Moses! sure I’d not be sar-

rised at all sh’u’d I neVer ag’in see dayli ht.

bar in t’under is me divil ev a horns? t’s
afther bein’ dark as seven Agepts, an’ it’s me
luck to get a good kick from thgggalpeen wid
all four ev his fun. Might g min they
have here, if it is a cuss o a counthry, fur
they’ll go to the divil through darkness and
blood for a friend; and I’m thinkin’ Mike
O’Keefe was never in better com y.
Here ees are, ye ugly divil! Come wi me!
Surei ’s a sorrow to take ees from such foine
$233, but 660 have to go, ur Tom Cornell is in

ger ev is life. I’m to be hung if I know ev
any one‘who isn’t in the same fix around here.
Come on, be orroorl if the b’ s sh’u’d l’ave me
behind wid he dead folks, t e darkness, and
divil knows what, I’d die entirely, Wid fright.
Will yees come along? Be the sowl ev me
drowned uncle I’ll l’ave yees behind wid the
fairies, if ees on’t hasten!”

Poor 9, half-frightened to death by his
unusual surroundings, was the last to reach
camp. The scouts were all saddled up, and
Kit assisted him for the road.

“Allsetl Allhunk! Come on, b0 5! Easy,
until we strike the Fort Brown tr , then we
will gait up and dust. ”

In ve minutes they were in the wagon-trail,
and daahin like mad toward Fort Brown, the
cluttering oofs causing many a wanderm' g
ca 0 to slink into the rk thickets.

‘ rge! Chester char 6! On, Stanley, on!
were the last wor of ion. I wonder
what mine will be?” said Joe.

“I’ll go a 31 , the ’11 be somebody’s else
T ill S espeare’s,” retorted

om.

“ Why, don’t ou think there is anything ori-
ginal about me, om?”

“ Yés. I recon yer the most originalist cuss
on the trail. Tell yer what, Joe, I’m kinder
scared about leavin them horses k at the
camp. ’on we won’t find ’em ere to—mor-
iow—that is, if we have life enough left tolook

or ’em' 3?

“Give your mg the s ’ Mike, and don’t
lean forward like an 'Engflllisiockey, or stee -
chase rider. They can’t ride in your coun .
You’re learning fast to ,work into our style of
doing thinfii but you must not get skeered at
n 3 un you’re hurt, or then,.oither. .We’ll
let you ow when ou’re in . Tell on
what it is boys; this is the way ride! E‘K-hr
bah—h. c! we make the miles fly behind.
Hurrah! for Jackass Parariel We must leave

. just nomd him neatly.

i our nags in the musquits, this side of Brown,
' and scout in on the sly. The Greasers know

see what’s a—goin on, call at the Monte Crib,
and there they think they will have a chance to
stab them in the din after knocking over the
1 candles by a Contriv plan.

1 “They wouldn’t dare to face them, ten to one,

} ers as there are in exas; and I wouldn’t won-

3 der if Phil Coe is with Old Rip.
him in San Antonio, J oer"

“No; me eyes beheld him not; and such 9.

Did you see

fine commanding figure as he presents would ,

not be apt to miss me aze.”
“ I know he is in rown,” said Tom Clark,
“for I was layin’ for a panther the other day,

ins down-stream, I slid for the spot, and saw

hi1 had a big bull alligator, dragging around
by his laryat. He caught the cuss aslee , and
Last I see of il be
was going down the fort Brown trail—fact, he
said e war a-goin there—with the alli ‘ator
just hanging back ike a wild bear, but hil’s
nag war a-jerkin’ him lively. I tell yer, boys,
there are enufl? of us to ljust knock the spots
outen fifty Greasers, an’ m hankerin, to com-
mence the deal.”

“Phil must have been layin’ lowwvhen I left
fort Brown, for I~did not see him, or pass him
on the trail,” said Kit.

“ I rec‘on he was down to Ba dad, gazing on
the moonlit sea, whispering to t e mermaids for
a change,” was Joe’s guess.

This conversation occurred, as they neared
Brownsville, in a low voice. As they slackened
their speed, they turned into the mus uits that
fringe the town, and securin the orses to
trees, Bill Mann was left in c rge while the
other scouts stole, Indian file, into the suburbs
of the town, which was wrapped in darknes
and repose.

A few minutes of rapid walkin , and they
stood at the northeast corner of the laza.

Pete Collins’ bar was a blaze of light, and
much laughing and loud talki reached them
from that popular resort of the exas boys.

As they stood there in the darkness a voice of
strong power and good execution, reached
them in a song, the words of which were dis-
tinctly heard.

THE LONE STAR RANGER‘S SONG.
The inshof life, forget them, boys, and only look to
81'8

W
The lone star streams above our ranks, upon the

prairie air.

It speaks of better days to come, and daring
spirits high,

Who put their trust in Providence and keep their
powder dry.

Chorus—Then forward. boys, nor falter;
‘Tis Texas bids you fight!
Look where the lone star flutters,
And heaven defend the right!

We have no doubts, we have no fears that we shall
win at last, .

And peace shall come o‘er prairies green, and perils
all be past.

But still we‘ll look aloft to where the lone star
streams on high

And put our trust in Providence and kee our pow-
der dry. Chan 1.)

“Give us another, Phil!” reobhed the ears of
the boys, in the voice at Col, Ford, after a
hearty round of applause.

SPANISH NATIONAL ANTHEM.
(ramsu'rsno
Ala—Greenlund‘s Icy Mountains.

March on, march on to glory,
The bugle calls the brave;
The soldier's bride is duty,
His couch perchance the rave.
He toys no more with beau y,
But marches to the fray;
March away—march away.
Away—away—away l
Drink deep, for love is fleeting;
Drink deep, for all must die;
We only live b moments,
Then where ore should we sigh.
We may not see to-morrow,
We onl have to die.
Marc away; march away —
Away, away, away.
March away, march away,
Away—away—away.

As the last words of the 8035 died aways.
loud hurrah, mingled with the exas yell, rung
from the bar-room, and Phil. Cole stood within

the scouts, 01. Ford, Jim Ransom
Thompson behind him; and they
wild yell as Phil, with great do
six shots from his revolver, up into 0 black

sk . . ,

x Phil can singf that’s a sure thing,” said Kit.
“Now I’llsee if can’t get 3
without excitin notice from t e
are undoub y
upon the death 0 one celebrated G '
within the hour. Take in S

’srifie, oe
andfreezetoitmntillm ea i

on you.

 

  

 

that Old Ri , Jack Ransom, and Ben Thom n, ‘
generally w on they take a stroll of a nig t to ;

for they know the are quick and sure shoot- ,
‘ i

on the Neuaces, and hearing a devil of a rum- ‘ Thompson, Phil. oe,

 

heat of yesterday ;” and wrapping a Mexican
» blanket about him, in the true Greaser style,

est rou , entered, passed directly t rough the
crowd of Mexicans and Texans, and toward the
door of the dining-room, to the right of the bar.
As he sed the men he wished to see, a scarce—
‘ 1y distinguishable snake-like hiss issued from his
lips, at each Ranger’s shoulder.

Every American we have mentioned, upon
one pretense or another, left the bar, one by
one, glided around the south corner of the Plaza

. and entered the dinin '-room by the back door.

t sat at the en of the dining—table, his
head upon his arms, his arms upon the table,
completely shielding himself from recognition.

Col. Ford, tall, raw-boned grizzly-haired. en—
tered, and silently the otier Rangers, Ben.

and Jim Ransom, stood
by his side a moment after.

Old Rip folded his arms, put his right foot for-
wa‘ii'd, and with a merry twinkle in his eye,
sai :

“Rec’on that cuss has got into the wrong
room. See here, stranger, this is the grub-
room. You can :firead yourself for a snooze up

stairs. Pete ’ll ow you u , after you have
told uswhat makes the s es uneasy. Who
the devil are you?”

“I’ll see,” said Ben Thompson, as he sprung
upon the table, walked down its length, drew
his Colt’s revolver and inserted the cold muzzle
into the ear of the man leaning upon the table.

Kit did not move a hair. Ben raised the bar-
rel of the revolver and knocked the sombrero
from his head to the floor, ’ust as Kit raised up
with a broad grin upon his ace.

Ben leaped from the table, and in. an instant
all were shaking Kit‘s hands, With prairie
warmth.

“That ’11 do, boys. 00]., how do you find
our-self? Phil, you haven’t forgot how to sing,
see. What’s the time of night, boys?”

“Rec’on it’s about a quarter to ten,——about
time to take something: but no use a ‘ you!
You’re the most unsociable cuss I know, ’ said
Col. Ford.

“Never you mind your drink this trip. I’ve
got some 0 the boys waitin for me at the cor-
ner of the Plaza. We knoc ed three Greasers
out cold on the Resaca to- ' ht, found letters in
the pocket of one. You, Co ., and the boys with
{3:21, are to be assassinated tomi ht, between

and eleven, at the monte cri . Load up
y‘crmr six, Phil. All of you go ri ht to the crib.

6 boys will scout around, and a low for the
Texas yell; then the ball, or b s open. No
time for gab. We’ll show them what a few
Texas boys can do to- ' ht, or die right there.
By-by, boys; this hour ecides the fate of the
Scouts of the Rio Grande.”

Before a word could be spoken by the Ran-
ers fast-talking Kit had got through, havin
Ehe Eackdwrhlatfh i111] his hakrlid.drAs t 6 13.5
war is i equic y ewito n,
steppegagstt:i closed itssoftl and disappear in-

to he darkness of the nig t.

Col. Ford looked at the boys with a satisfied
look in hiseyes as he said:

“Fun ahead for us, pards. Kit’s a brick—a
pressed brick hope he never ’1] be broke. Come
,on for the cri . Are you all fixed for business?”

“ I’m alwa 3 fixed for anything or everything,
and can fig t in a sombrero or a stove-pipe
either,” answered Ben Thompson.

“Rec’on I’m as read as anybody, and as
anxious towade in, if do shoot into the air
once in a while to clear my six, keep the cob-
webs out and give vent to my feelings. I can
shoot, also, into anybody that don’t like my
style,” was Phil‘s answer.

“Im thinking I know one Greaser by the
name of Gomez that is aware of this plot. He
was dealing a while ago, when I was at the
crib, and the overbearing look he gave kinder

me. I understand it now, and 'I’m
dan if I don’t go for him on the jump, right
at t e start,” declared Jack Ransom. .

“Well, boys come on! Kit has had time to
slink away. e’ll just blow with Pete a min-
ute, then try our hands at this fresh deal. Don’t
waste no powder, and look out for cold steel.”

_.—__.

CHAPTER VIII.
BIG FOOT WALLACE’S RECEPTION.
Irondointed, supple-sinewed, they can ride or they

 

the brilliantl -lighted door, plainly outlined to I
, and Ben l
ve another ‘
rit , let of

a core. on was for this; rather ; they must
warm for i: but y 11 think I’m troubled ; Grande. .
with “new ’tis a cool night considering the i Clown laid his hand softly upon Jack’s men

can run,
' Catch the wild horse with their larlats, hurl their
‘ lances in .the sun.
t x. n- o t t 1.

Untouched by human laws the stood,
But God had heard the cry of iced!

Tim obble of the wild turkeys announced to
Clown hat daylight was near at hand, although
it Was still quite, ark in the river bottom.

He stepped gently up to where J ack was sleep-

ch with them ing to awaken him, as he did not wish to dis.
Greasers, who ! tur Rely until the last minute, when the morn-
?)yhing them, and counting . ing meal of broiled beef, com-pone, and coffee

I should be prepared, for Clown knew Rel would
,needalltherestshecould get, to beabetoun-
; dergo the fatigue of the long and rapid marches
make before reaching the Rio

Kit ap roached Pete Collins’ barb the dark- ,

 

‘2‘.—

I.

 

’ and on through the

No. 3.

,, w  _ r I
which was wide open, and gave a hiss into his 1

ear.

An ei ht -four- und ,had it been fired
as neargaSSIjlownlsoheadggvras to Jack’s, would
not have roduced any more agile or lofty cm i
cus tumb ing, or more piercing yells.

Clown was thrown backward down the gully.
When he recovered himself, and sat up on the
opposite side of the waterrwash, Jack was Sit-
ting direetl acrosa from him, his hands cl
around his  the same position as on a or— .
mer occasion in the coach. ‘

“You are a dang‘d nice man totalk about
folks bein’ so noisy in thur’ sleep as to bring 1
down a war-party on us, now, ain t e? If they ;
didn’t hear figu yell clean over at leasanton,
they must deaf. I rec’oned you’d cut up ;
some kind of a. ca r, so I threw a blanket
doubled over Rel ’s ead, but I heard her groan,
when *ou starte your music. _ Now, see here,
Jack, ‘ve been howled at by Lipaus, Kioways
Camauches, and a heat: of other tribes, but ’ll
but high you can knoc the spots outen anly of
’em, when you 0 in for a regular old he ye .”

“See here, Clbwn, you just gaze at me fur a
few brief fleeting periods. I’m a-goin’ to spit
out gab that I mean, and jist you reccomember :
my remarks, and stow ’em away in yer brain- J
box. Rec’on the cover is kinder loose, an how.
You know I’m a little flighty just now. of
slee , bein’ left behind b the Rangers, an’ rum,
has iinder upsot me. I ain‘t got all the whis‘: .
outen me yet. Don't yer never, until I get ,
straightened out, clap yer hand over my b— *
tra ag’in, or hiss in my ear. Yer know hate l
sn es.

' “ See here, anything left in that bottle? I 
lieve I’ll take my last nip, this side the R10 ‘_
Grande. I’ve seen more Inguns ter night than :
w’u’d stretch to the Rockies. I don’t care a
dang fur ’em; I ain’t afeard of ’em, but I don’t
want ’em to bother me when I‘m tryin’ torepose
myself, and not feelin" just hunky.

“ Give us a drink, an I’ll call us  I’ll
wake up easy to-morrow mornin’, I rec’on, if I
wake up at all.”

Clown went to a hollow tree, reached down
into the cavity, produced the bottle, and handed
it to Jack, saying:

“ Remember, 0 d pard, that’s yer last. Rec’on
we’ll need it fur some other p , or I’d
smash her, snakes or no snakes. on don‘t get
another pull, unless as a medicine, and yer can’t
play of! sick on me. Put 'er head ter soak in

he river; put down a oor uar’ meal of bacon
and coffee, and you’ll 0.5%.”

J aek took a moderate drink, went to the river
for a wash, and returned, looking liken. new
man.

“Now Clown, don’t show me that bottle,
ag’in. I’m blink, and can go through, I rec’on,
without runnin’ wild. That bacon and coflee
smells good. If I wearn’t better ’twould sicken
me

 

While J abk was sinking, Rely came from her
bower and bid t em ~morning. Jack
shewed their charge a placeto rform her
morninf ablutions an she return fresh as a.
rosebu flecked with morning dew.

The breakfast was soon dispatched, and in ten
minutes the were all mounted, forded the river,

“ e will keep clear of the fort Ewell trail
until we pass' the settlements,” Jack ordered.

So they traveled, with the exception‘of a three
hours’ rest during the heat of the day, until
nearly night and then camped on the San Migu-
el river, having made full sixty miles!

Rer was fatigued, and not sorry to rest be-
neath the shadows of the river-bottom timber.

The boys were ve careful now, as they were
near the course of amanche war-parties when
raiding down country.

Jack forded the river, climbed a tall tree to 1
take a look at the prairies beyond, but nothing ‘
suspicious met his view; there were no livin hu-
mans in sight, but possibly there might be, rav-

 

eling in the belt of timber. which fringed the i C

river. He returned to camp, and the horses
were picketed within half a pistol-shot from the
partty. ,As the breeze what there was, came
u e river, the built a small flue, lmowin

t e smoke woul not show, and the smell 0

burning wood would'be carried down-stream,
the ipoint they least expected danger.

T ey eat their supper in silence, for they were
much worn b the ong ride, not having been in
the saddle be ore for some time, and were also
aware that it was necessa for them to keep as
still as ible in the section of the country in

The river ran not ten yards from the fire.
The sun had gone down below the prairie hor-
izon, but it was light enough to glance clearly
through the sights of a rifle.

They had just finished their mealz and were in
the act of loosening the blankets from the sad-
dles, when a loud lash came from the opposite
Side of theyriver, ollowed by another, and an-
other, until, as Jack listened intently, he knew
at least a score of horses were in the stream.

He knew they were horses by the tread u
the bank, before they entered the, river. ow,
by the wa they struck the water, and the
heaviness o the tread, he also knew the animals
were ridden by men.

‘ lookin

‘ chance to put more

The absence of all playfulness and neighing—
their entering one after another in place of a

general rush, as was common with mustangs— :

proved them to be singly under control.

Who and what these men were must be ascer-
tained, and that quickly. -

Clown and Rely were looking at Jack, who

motioned toward the saddles and then the“

horses.

They understood and commenced to saddle L

the animals.

1 Jack crawled upon his hands and knees as ‘
near the river as he dared, and parted the ,

branches.

Twenty yards from him, seated upon wild
and gayly decorated mustangs, that
were inking eagerly of the cool waters, was a
score of Camanche warriors, who were also
drinking, by leaning from ‘ the animals and
scooping up the water in both hands.

Their hideous features were daubed withi
war-paint, and black and vermilion streaks ‘

ran along each side of the backbones of the

. horses to the tails. J aek knew the had traveled
distance from the way th horses drank 1

a lon
and t e mamier of the Indians, but he waited
for no further investigations but stole away si-

lently to the comrades of his danger, his heart '

in his throat with the great fear he had for Rely’s
safety.

Clown and Rely had alread saddled their 3

horses; the animals wereallowe to feed for fear
their attention might be attracted by those in
the river. One neigh might cost them their
ives.

Jack quickly threw the saddle over the back

of his horse drawing the girth an extra hole j

tighter, bridled the animal, and gave a look at
o

wn that told more than his tongue could, 3

had it been safe to use it.

Jack motioned them to mount and pointed
down the river; then turning his horse to bring
it between him and the stream, he leveled his

Sharpe’s rifle over the saddle, as Clown, with *

Rely, slowly walked their horses down the San
Miguel. A horse’s head pressed through the

branches at the ve spot Jack had reconnoi-

tered. J aek’s cheek kissed the breech of his rifle, '
his eye ran along the sights as a grim warrior’s ‘

head cleft the foliagie.d.The eyes of each were
u 1

upon the other; the an’s li parted for the
danger si 1; it was too late; ack’s rifle belch—
ed forth i contents of fire and lead.

The death howl and warning whoop, blended
horribly to ther as the savage fell from his
horse, dearie upon the smoldering camp-fire of
his enemies.

The instant after J ack plulled trigger he was
in the saddle, and drove t

horse bounded into the air, then, in a wild l-
lop, sprung down the river, while the river t-
tom resounded with yells of rage from the In-
dians as the came crashing through the branch—
es and saw t eir dead chie .

When the forms of the retreating Texans met

their view, the war-cry burst in terrific, venge- ‘

ful meaning from their throats, and as they

dashed in ursuit they sent a shower of arrows v‘

after the a most whites.

“Take the 1 Own, for Big Foot Wal-
lace’s ranch! It ain’t over five miles from here.
Follow the river. Rely, keep close to Clown,
and mind your nag; a all is death, or worse to

you. The biz of both on ver isto get there as 1

quick as‘yer can. I’ll kee the Reds frum bein’
anxious or too ea er, an we’ll fotch ’em ri ht
into a trap fur
best saddle ag to-night hobbled out above here.
Git up, an’ git ’

On the went, the Indians with fierce yells,
lashing t eir mustangs with the cruel raw-hide

irts, causing them to lea into the air with
t 0 force of the blows, andt en launch out with
redoubled .

“Kee just clear of the timber for three
miles, if you have the luck to get so far,

lown.
the ‘old reliable ’ style.”

Three warriors, better mounted than the
others, were now within a hundred yards, and,
as Jack had slacked up to give' his friends a
und between them and

their enemies, the re -skins were gaining, and

would soon be within sixty yards, when their

j bows would be as effective as rifles, and more

: to be dreaded, especially if the arrows were
poisoned.

One of the three pushed ahead of the others.

He was a splendid specimen of his race; horse

was in concert with the other.
This brave was flttin an arrow to his bow;
‘ two others hung dang ing from between the
‘ flngerspf the right, or bow-string hand, to be
. sent With the rapidity of lightning, one after
another, but an instant apart.
Jaclélwheeled, and gave a twitch on his bridle~
rcin; 1e

1
i
winch hey were.  and rider acted as one—each movement of one
l
|

Jack sat him iko a man of iron; is Sharpe’s
I was brought to his shoulder just as the bow of
i the Indian was drawn so that the arrow-head
r touched the left forefln er. The report of the

' rifle and the twang of t e bow-string mingled.
l The death-howl of the Red struck J ack‘sear

e long rowels of his 
spurs deep in the flanks of his mustang The

Foot is at home; seen is 3

I want to show ’em some shootin’, 1

worful Spanish bit brought his horse ’
to a dea sto), trembling in cverv limb, but ‘

it Carson, J r., the Crack Shot of the West. 7 v 13

'1

i

as he dashed his 5 urs home, and his sombrero
skurried through t e air over his horse’s head,
with the arrow imbeddcd in the thick felt.

i The other two Indians were not fifty feet
; away, their bows were slung upon their arms,
and the long deadly lances were poised as they
‘ came thundering on.

Jack, who thought his time had surely come,
determining to send one more red tigcrto his
long home, dropped his rifle-strap over the horn
of his saddle, and jerked out his Colt’s revolver
from the scabbard; then, throwing himself half
around, he let fly at the nearest brave—the only
I one he had any chance at before the lances

would cleave the air and impale him.
I The sharp crack of Clown’s rifle, blended in
i with the report of Jack's revolver, as the two
lanccs cleaved the air, one burying itself full-s
l two feet in J ack's mustang—the other whizzing
st Jack, the thick end iving him a stinging
low upon the head, w ich nearly took the
senses from him.

As Jack’s horse sunk to the ground, Clown’s
voice rung in his ear:

“ Jump! Jack, for your life! Here‘s a horse!”
and he felt a rawhide rope in his hand. Clown
grabbed him by the belt, and hoisted him into
an Indian saddle.

There was a rush from behind, as yelling
3 demons came thundering dovvn upon them.

A blur seemed to hover before the eyes of
Jack; he felt a heavy blow given to his horse
behind, and the animal 5 ring madly forward-
then a perfect fusilade mm the revolvers o
Clown, struck his ears. ‘

The air was filled with smoke and the hazy
twilight of evenin together; these made things
favorable for our ricnds. .

\Vild ells of agony, and whoops of vengeance
followe the revolver fusilnde of Clown, who
had fired, with quick-playin fingers, twelve
‘ shots. right into the mass 0 savages asthey
, came upon the scene of Jack’s accident.

0n, on went the horse, which took Jack he
knew not where.

Rapid clatter of hoofs was behind him, and
soon Clown took the rawhide ropes from his
hands, and his voice broke out in words of
c

eer:
“Stick to the nag, old pard! I’ll see yer
through or die. Five minutes and we’re safe.
Rely is ahead, and at Big Foot’s afore this time.”

On, on—the baffled savages maddened to fury

i at the death of their comrades, and now seem—

ingly); sure of their revenge.
i , on, down through the liv Clown
I having Jack’s horse in the lead, and avoiding
! the low-hanging branches of the trees.

A few more leaps, and the cabin of Big Foot
would be reached.

The Reds, like 11;}ka of wolves, followed,
howlin , two hund ards behind. The death-
scene 0 their chief h lost them ground.

The horses were covered with foam, and a
waverin , sta gering gait told that they must
l(icon slac en t e hen long speed that had been

e tu . ‘

RChIeer up, Jack!” yelled Clown; “there’s
the opening, and there is Big Foot and Rel at
the cabin. Hurrah! for the giant scout the
Rio Grande! Hurrah for us, too, b Christyi
Big Foot’s ready for bin, and “ Old eliable " is
going to talk! hoot away, over or under
right or left, anyway, so you wipe out a Red!”
A ball whizzed past Clown’s head; the report

 

‘ followed, and with a yell of agony from the ,

rear.

The horses dashed up to the cabin. B' Foot
i Wallace lifted Jack clear ofl’ the Indian orSe,

ricked the animal with his bewie, and the
: orse, followed by Clown’s, staggered to the
‘ river, beyond the cabin.

Rely and Jack were pushed inside the cabin

; door, 0 nedegust wide enough to squeeze in;
i Clown ollow . Big Foot gave a rting shot

and crowding his bul form insi e the closed
. door, as a perfect hai of arrows struck the
‘ cabin

A sharp, shrill shriek. like that of a woman in

: horrible agony and deathly fear, came fromthé
i other end of the cabin, as the heavy bars fell
1 into place, fastening the door.
( A ow, soothin whistle came from the lips of
‘- Big Foot, and en, looking at Clown in the
§ dim li ht, he said:
' “Ta e a sight outen that west end-loop, an’
i see whar thorn cusses are prOspectin’, an’
i whether yer think they’ll quit the game. I’ve
1 got a boss card to play ct. How many on ’em
1 as chawed dirt on yer k trail?”
4 “I rec’on seven went under fur good, and
l sum bad hurt, away back, an’ you . \otted two

here. There’s two doren or so sp’ilin for a flnht

yet. Dang the cusses: they don’t know when

they’re wusted. They’ve got an old wagon-tongue

o’ yourn, an‘ I rec’on they lmlkerlate to break up
~ house-kee in’ fur 'cr or have a house-warmin,
one or t’o her. ey‘ve left the mags ii?) on the
rise. Here they come! Doggoned ' I don’t
spile sum on ’em for a war—dance!”

“ Hold!” said Big Foot; “don’t er waste a
grain o’_ powder on the varmints. ou lay low
till I give yer a hint to sling yer kard; the
i can‘t knock in that door no way, an’ I’m 0
i if I find: they seen what door we cum in by.”
; Rely was bathing Jack's head, who lay rpoa

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TthsnYerk Library»

Vol. I.

 

 

a pile of skins in one corner of the apartment.
The scalp was torn, and he had lost a large
amount of blood.

As Big Foot made the last remark to Clown,
he addressed them all, saying:

“ You all keep cool; locate right whar yer are; :

don’t be took back b
on ter yer. It’s a
here.
shon in my cabin. You’ll hear fun soon.”

As he spoke, a heavy substance struck the
door, but i was not the one by which they gain-
ed entrance. This was ingeniously covered

nothin’ er hear, till I let
ut as rk outside asiii

.with litl spiked on‘ so when closed no
SP 258’ ble,’except at closh in-

1working to

!

...~;—.-=....;. w....--,...- n.-. 

break in th
spection.
The door, upon which the Indians were now

ogs was visi

feet east of t is. The distance the Reds were
from the cabin together with the semi-dark-
ness, had kept t eir usually keen eyes from ob-
seiXin that there were two doors.

s
mounte
to view.

Then ' commenced the same low sooth-
ing whist e, accompanied by the rattling of
chains, and a loud, cat-like purring.

Again the wagon-tongue struck the door with

a ladder to the loft above and was lost

a crash, sending the s lmters flying against the t
e

partition. The next unge of t battering-ram
must force the door.

The cabin was as still as death, with the ex-
ception of the low, hardly audible whistle of
Big Foot, and the stran e, purring sound.

he patter, patter, 0 man moccasined feet
upon the ound outside reac ed the ears of the
whites; en the crash the quick cracking of
wood, and the fall of the door upon the earth

floor inside, followed by the exultant war- .
whoops of the Indians, as they sprung into the 1

opening, iii one huddled mass, their war-clubs
:ggd scalping-knives brandished above their
8

The rattle of heavy chains, as if, this time, 

cast 'de, a loud piercing whistle, and then, a.
horn , blood-cur scream, that riveted every
warrior to his tracks with terror!

The spring of a heavy body, the scratching of
the claws as they left the wood-work, and
loosened the grip which gave force to the lungs,
was distinctly heard; then, as it struck among

the mass of Indians, the yells of horror, the “

shrieks of agony, were mingled with the tearing
of flesh, the Spurting of blood, cracking of bones,
and horrible crunching of teeth.

Rely, pale as death, stood in the center of the
main portion of the cabin; Clown was recap ing
his arms, and Jack, with a bandage around) his

leaning on his rifle, by the side of

, stood
Rely, when Big Foot dro ped from the loft and ?

gaging for the door. wing the bars one
, and kicking it open, he snatched his rifle
and shouted:

“ Come on with yer shooters! All hands, but
don’t yer shoot my cat!”

All rushed out, arms at a ready, Rely in-
cluded.

The moon now lit upl the scene, and showed
by the other door, whic was smashed in, half
a dozen Indians writhing in agony upon the

d. Others were flying in terror toward

horses.

“Don’t let i single cuss go back ter his squawl
show er_ shootin edication, now, or never!”
shou Big Foot, as he brought down the Red
nearest to the horses. Clown, Jack, and Rely
opened fire until not one was left alive of those
who were striving to at to their animals. The

le Indian left in go of them was seen to

_op away, gazing bac in terror to the fast

ng wamors of his tribe, and lashing his
mustang with his quirt most unmercifully, as
the frequent death-howls struck his ears.

They turned to those who had been rollin in
agon b the door; they were now rigitf in
den an bathed in gore while the panther, an
animal of tPi‘odig‘ious s so, lay stretched out
among the end dians, licking the blood from
the many knifi-wounds received in defense of
its master’s home.

CHAPTER IX.
run MONTE cam FIGHT.—DISPATCHES so 001..
I scan

Then list! Not far there lurks a crew
0f trusty comrades. staunch and true—
gore, whose fiery souls like mine
Spurn g: the bouilsigf discipline.
rsc mes are a , our urpOse set'
A chief, a leader lack we ygt. ’
h to an equal loath to bow -
‘ Will yield to chief renown'd as thou.
. 0 $ 9 t t I
’Twas then mid tumultuous smoke and strife,
Where each man fought for death or life.

COL. JOHN FORD, Jack Ransom, Phil Cole and

Ben Thom entered the monte crib. Three
tables were in full blast, givin lay-out? but
With few batters for that time of night. n the

middle cf each table was placed the bank con-

. ' of Mexican dollars, halves and ua’rters,
With a few doubloons—from three to Eye hun—
dreddollars in each bank. The dealersat on
gdnd theplayeron theothersidaof theta—

I’m agoin’ to t’other room. Got a parti-

ain an entrance, was about four ;

i Foot spoke of the fun yet to come he 1

There were but six or eight Mexicans betting
at each bank, and not much interested in the
game, or they would not have looked up so anx-
iously when the Texans entered. It was very
evident to the latter that those in the house
were most of them aware of the lot of assassi-
nation. Each of the Texans ha two of Colt’s
iia revolvers in his belt, besides the long—
bla¢ ed bowie' the former were at half-cock, and
drawn aroun at each side, to be handy for use,

‘ and easily drawn when needed. Pressed up '
against the walls outside, pcepin thro h the
cracks, were the scouts headed Kit ‘arson
and Joe Booth—the bushes and dar ess secure-

ly hiding them from the observation of those
‘ entering the building. The Texas boys, headed
‘ by Col. Ford, agreeably to a prearran ed plan,

went to the table nearest to one end 0 the crib, .

taking their places in a pOSition which brought
§ every person in plain view at any time they
3 chose to look up from the game. T ey also had
.‘ the end wall of the building at their backs
with no Tfigssibility of any one getting behin
them. " position was gained in a careless,
I sauntorin way, that betrayed no sign that any
i one woul sup that they had any preference
1 for that particular table or position; still it
; was very evident that the Mex1cans did not like
to see them take their laces there.

“Bar the door on t is seven ag’in the ace!”
said Jack Ransom, as he laid five silver dollars
5 on top of the seven, at the same time eying the

dealer, who was the same Gomez before men-
tioned as having put on a good many extra airs
over Jack when he had been in before.

‘ As J ack bent over and laid his bet on the sev- i

on, he noticed the silver hilt of a dagger just
‘ visible above the collar of Gomez’s jacket, par-
tiall concealed by his long hair.

“ ‘ ven in the door! Pick up your money, ,

Jack! Give us a lay-out of the ace and deuce;
. ten dollars on the ace! Lost! but ou won
. double my bet, colonel,” said Ben T ompson,
; (“Fighting Ben”)

The Texans all appeared to be earnestly occu-
ied in watching the game, but their keen eyes
‘ ew of every movement made around them,
I and noticed the casual entering of Mexican after
! Mexican, and the significant looks they gave
i one at another, as they took notice of the noted
. scouts at the lower table. Now and then the
’ ti ity-tip of a horse galloping into town sound-
, e faintly as some Mexican from Cortina’scam
' rode as near to the monte crib as he dared; an
left his horse to enter the crib as th h he was
a common frequenter and resident o Browns-
ville, but the were far from deceiving the
sharp eyes of e scouts. There were now some
fifty Mexicans, a parently as eager staking two-
bits at a bet as t on rh their IiVes depended up-
on the winning. T ie Mexican signal for the
l murder of the Texans, was, that every candle
should be extingiished, except the one nearest
the scouts, and t t should be left unsnuifed, so
as to give a dim, uncertain light. They could
then spring upon their game and butcher them
before they could offer any resistance, or recov-
er from their s rise. .

The Texans ( etermined that the 8 use
should be on the other side, and it had n
agreed that Jack Ransom should be the man to
start the ball by settling his account with Go-

 

me should the overbe ‘ , insulting manner
of e latter (go far enough _ excuse i and if
not, he shoul be provoked into a quarre The

unit came even before the Texans an-
tici ted, or Jack caught Gomez pulling two
car , causing “Fighting Ben” to ose a large
sum of money. Jack was nearest the dealer,
and when he noticed the cheat, he quickly
snatched the cards, separated them b a slip of
the fo r and thumb, ex osing'h omez be-
fore the be rs around the ta le. e hand of
Gomez quickly glided up over his shoulder for
the knife which was down his neck, but he was
too late, for Jack’s hand was there before his
and, quick as thought, the long, slender-bladed
stiletto was drawn, and his own knife was
buried to the. hilt in the breast of Gomez.
Other knives flashed in the candle—1i ht. The
Texans all back to the walls of t Monte
House. “ Islth hting Ben,” the last to leave the
table, covering the retreat of Jack Ransom, re-
ceived a stab in the arm and thigh, but a life
id for each, and in an instant he was besule
is comrades against the wall, a revolver in
either hand. A score of Greasers_sprung on
the  right at the Texans, thinking to over-
whelm
shooters of the Rangers cut them down, and
the Texan yell rung out, as signal to Kit Carson
and Reckless Joe, who, with their party,
charged in at the east door, just as a lar num-
ber o Mexicans entered opposite from t e side
next the Matanioras ferry. As Kit and Joe en-
tere'd, a perfect hail of balls were sent into the
bandit ranks, from both parties of whites.
Mexicans in squads of a dozen 3p madly
at the Texans With their long knives, t be-
fore they could reach them the dead] Colts
made wounds that none could stand un er. A
few of the- bandits  pistols, but most of
them had left them behind to throw off any sus-
icion as to their  , and not expecting to
v_e any use for em, as they) thougllriiti the
scouts would fallen easy prey, their ves.

 

. . -....l..... 7 _-,

em by numbers, but the eight six- 1

Those who had pistols, did not do much tOWard

using them to advantaire, for the row had com-
, menced so unexpectedl , and the terrible fire
, 0f the Texans was so estructive, that before
i they knew what to do, half their number lay
dead or dying upon the dirt floor.

The survivors made a rush for the door to-
ward the Matamoras ferry, the balls hurtlin
through their crowded masses as they pressed
1 out. A few scattering shots were delivered at
the Texans. Greens of ony malditos istol-
shots, and the triumphan yells of the exans
filled the night air.

“ Come on, boys!” cried Col. Ford, as Kit, Joe,
and the other scouts made their way over the
duped to his party. “ Remember! the Alamo and

ier.

“Fighting Ben” and Phil Cole, badl wound—
ed, sat upon the floor, where they held
their 'tion through the fight, and urged on
the ot ers after the fast—retreatin r bandits. A
sigkly, pale moon, partially lit up he night out-

81 e.

The band of scouts dashed after the flying
Greascrs, who had no time to mount their
horses in the bush, but made their way directly
for the old rope ferry.

Down the steep bank the s rung, their ranks
thinned by the revolvers OYtEe Texans.

They plun ed into the river and lunged out
to sw1m for t e opposite shore.

“Now’s the time to use our Sharpe’s rifles,
boys,” said Kit, as from the high bank above
the i”; rry he blazed away into the waters, which,
I reflecting the moon’s rays, showed lainly the

struggling forms of the invaders of Texas.
I The detonations of the rifles aroused the
l Mexican guard at the ferry-landing, on the
other shore, and lights were seen flickering,
here and there, along the bank as those who
i were so fortunate as to escape the rifle-shots,
called loudly for help to their count en.
I “ I kinder rec’on we’ve wiped out 0 most of
the cusses. That was a sort 0’ surprise-party
warn’t it? Some on ’em took a bath, an’ didn‘t
stop fur soap,” observed Tom Clark.

‘ ’Tis strange, ’tis passing strange that our
sister Rr mblic should allow her citizens armed,
with ma ice and hatred in their hearts, to in-
vade the realms of Uncle Sam. Hear me, ye

ods and little flshesl ,Be it known that, hence-

orth and forever, as heretofore, we denounce,
we disown you, Mexicol No more shall the
right hand of relationship be extended to the
degenerate sons of Montezuma. You never
fit a_ shake from a Texan, anyhow; but at
ashington they call you pet names. I mean
your ministers; the sell you arms to use
against their own Citizens, and give you long
credits. You owe Uncle Sam untold gold- you
owe Texas blood more precious than all the
gold in this most uncharitable, deceptive world,”
eclaimed Reckless Joe.

Mike O’Keefe stood panting by 'the scouts,
haying done good service at the crib and in the
 Hearing the remarks of Joe he accosted

m:

“ Sure, an’ is that Mexico, Mr. Rickless, wher’
the Grazers ar’ afther coming frum? ’Pon me
soul, it’s a h’athen lookin’ place be the moon
li ht. An’

esover ere. Sure I’d like a taste 0’ fish
cum 9. Friday; but divil do I know whin that’ll
be; me head is afther bein’ so bothered wid the
wayK yees scouts around, as yees call it. The
bac 0’ me hand to Mexico an’ thim that’s in it.
It’s a decent male and slape I lost be thim, let
alone the wo int 0’ mind.”

“ You’ll be hunk now, Mike. You can git
some good cloth’s oifen them what‘s knocked
under, and a fit-out for yer horse,” Tom Clark
sug ested.

' ure, I’m dan , of I wouldn’ naked
intirel afore I’d afther warein’ tlig: cloth’s
ev a ead mon. There’s back luckinit, they
alwa tould me at ’ome.”

“ ome on, boys! We have bu’st them up,
and cleaned out the shebaviég; there’ll be a few
less to fihlt up the river. 0 will now go and
see to 'l and Ben Thompson. Kit and Joe,

ou are ty‘oungest- streaker for the crib and at-

nd to emmYe “£1111 go lgviesr toBPete’s; have
a room repa , an yan r. ar out to
dress their wounds,” said Col. Ford. ry

“ N othiiig can make me hoofs more light, make
me throw off on me stomach longer, or cause
me heart to beat with keener sorrow, than the
kno’ledge that a comrade lays suffering. Come
on. Kit! We’re needed at the Chanel-house,
. once the manic crib!"

Kit and Joe hastened on ahead toattend to
the wounded, but a ministering an 1 was them
before them, who had tenderly ressed their
wounds and made them comfortable amid that
horrible scene of death and blood. As soon as
the scouts entered the door they recognized the
nurse. What Scout or Ranger of the Rio
Grande who did not know her? and u rung the
shout from their li : “ Hurrah for fits Lubyl
the 0in rose wi out a thorn upon the Rio
Grands.” There was about her presence some-
thing so noble, so far above the common human,
that all, high or low, bowed humbly before her,
and the man who would in an way have
shown her disrespect, would have a corpse
I the next minute.

 

 

see are either saying there be a

He»-

 

'No. 3. fl

Ki

Her heroism, her devotion to all suffering hu- ,
manity, or all who needed advice or sympathy;
her great talents—she speaking fluently flve lan-
guages—all made her a )pear to the sons of the
Lone Star State too big and exalted to be idly J
gazed upon. But what made her more respect- :
ed than all was her  bravery and I‘eCkIGSS- i
ness, she having at one time, when Cortina had
a citizen of Brownsville prisoner, and about to i
have him shot, entered his camp and demanded
the prisoner’s liberty. Such was her command
over herself, her quecnly bearing, that even the
bandit chief could not but show re t to her,
and, strange to say, released the prisoner; and
Kate Lub returned with him to his family,
his heart ursting with gratitude. Man acts
of as equal daring endeared this lady to resi-
dents of the lower Rio Grande, where she re-
sided during the most bloody and lawless times
for ten years, and now lives in Corpus Christi.

When Col. Ford entered and discovered Kate
Luby, his rough features lit up with smiles, as
he dbtl’ed his sombrero and extended his hand.

“ God blow you, Kate 1 You are always
around when any one is needing your care and
attention; but in such a place as this I hate to
see you. It is contaminating to breathe the air
that hovers over such base things in the form of
men, even when life has left them. A thousand
thanks for our care of my boys, who I know
will never orget it. May I escort you from
this rhastly sight to your home?” '

“ Certainly, Col. Ford; but first order the
Wounded scouts brought to my house, where I
can attend to them. They have lost a large 1
amount of blood and need proper food to 1
strengthen them. Don’t say a word now; mine .
is law here. As far as these two boys are con- }
corned, you have nothing more to do with them ’
until 1 deliver them over to you able to take 1
the saddle again. You have so much on your 5
hands, colonel, that I’d better go home by my-
self. Joe and Kit, when they have help and
horses, can bring the wounded to my house.”

“ Kate, I cannot allow you to go through the
streets unattended; so we will go now, and I
will return and have the boys moved as soon as
I can. I wash-going to take them over to Pete
Collins, but know they will receive better care
with you.”

Col. Ford escorted Kate Lub home. Joe
and Kit, with the assistance of ike and Tom
Clark, gently lifted the wounded scouts upon
two horses brought from the prairie camp out—
side the town, and they were slowly taken to
the residence of Kate Luby, and oft to her
tender care and symogathy. '

Col. Ford hasten after Doctor Barry, and
after his return from his patients was glad to
learn that no bones were broken. Phil Coll was
shot through the thick portion of the thigh, be-
sides being stabbed tWice, but not seriously, at
the time the row commenced when Jack knifed
Gomez.

The scouts all met at Pete’s, and the colonel
soon joined them after his consultation with
Doctor Barry.

Pete, although quite deaf, had been awakened
by the firing and was read to receive the ,
h s 7 od-nauired features 'ng with
for ie knew the'Mexicans had been severely
punished. His wife was a Mexican woman, but
no man on the river held more bitter hatred to-
ward the bandits of Cortina than Pete.

“ I rec’on you’ll have to start a new grave-
yard, Pete, to-morrow; there’s a right smart lot
of Greasers tow ilant, an’ I hope the ’11 never
sprout ag’in,” (1 Tom, as he ente the bar.

“ No need to bury the cowardly cutthroats;
pitch them into the river for the catfish, al-
though I don’t rec’on even t would stomach
them. What you boys ageing to take! rec'on
you’re all drygxcept Kit; he never patronizes
me. Here, 1. Ford, in treat: it shall be
cliampaigne, and Charles eidsick at that.”

While the Texans joined Pete in a glass of

 

 

wine, the heav tramp of infantry, at a double-
quick, struck t ieir ears, and a squad of boys in
blue halted before the entrance to the bar-room,
on the Plaza.

“ Left face, right dress, front, order arms i”
sounded, clear and shrill, on the night air, and
the ofllcer of the guard, with drawn sword, en-
tered the bar.

“ Hal-loo, captain!” cried Col. Ford, “ 'ust
in time for the wine if
I should have inform

on so uld
taken a hand, but I y ’ you”

only received the news

on wasent for the flgm .” ,
ve

i know whet
; blanket.”

i you also, boys. ,
, cu shortly. No,thar’i,ks; I’ll not smoke to-night. 1

i
J
i
i
1

about an hour before the had planned to send I

us on the long, dark trail fore our time. You
have hustled yourselves to get here so soon, for
it ain’t more’n half an hour since we waded in
on the cusses, and you're camped below the
walls of the old fort."

‘ Captain Haynes grasped the hand of Col.
1‘ 0rd, and, nodding to each of the sooutqiin turn
iiccepted the glass of wine the colone passed
um.

“ Fill up again, all hands!” said Pete; “don’t
allow Cap. to drink alone. ”

“ Here is confusion defeat and death to the
guerhllas of the Rio Crande!” cried Col. Ford,

and With a wild Hu-rah, the glases clinked, '

clinked around the circle.
“ Now, came," said Captain

yum H ‘
me the details of this disturbance.” give

(Jameson, Jr., the .

s ction of Capt. Haynes.

rack

Col. Ford related the circmnstances connected

‘ with the murder of the ranchero and his son; ’
, the finding. of the letters in the jacket b Kit

Carson, J r., who produced the same for t e in-
In these letters the

p ot of the bandits was clearly proven.

The counter )lOt of the Texans and its grand

success were a so explained to the captain, and

he a
mare

eed to break up his camp below the fort,
into the town, and take up his quarters,

so as to be able to guard the citizens from any
other inarauding band from the bandit camp
above, who would, doubtless, now take the first
chance to avenge their comrades, slain by the

posts, and we are almost

Texans.

“ You know, Col. Ford,” said Capt. Haynes,
“ the government only gives us what you might
call a corlmral’s guard to each of the frontier
powerless beyond our
own camp. One thousan
stationed, continually. between here and Eagle-
I’ass, and stationed so as to be easil brought
together when any int is threatene
sion by these cut-t roat thieves. we might

then, with some chance of success, try to keep

them on their own side of the river.”
“Come into the dining-room, all my scouts,

$9391" the West,- 

cavalry ought to be ,

by inva— ,

and you also, Captain Haynes; one thing has ,

slipped my mind.’

Captain Haynes and the scouts followed Col.
Ford into the dining—room; the doors were
closed, and scouts stood at each with drawn re-
volvers.

“ Take a seat, Capt. Haynes. I rcc’on I ought
to have some news from up country that will
interest as who have been cooped 11) here at
this town on the lookout for sign. 0w is it,
Kit, or Joe; have you anything from Governor
Houston, and what’s the news ?’ '

Joe Booth step )ed up to Co]. Ford and deliv- :

cred a large pac et, stamped with the seal of
State saying:

“ e lord, had not the times been pregnant
with events, among which your highness’ life
did hang as ’twere upon a hair, the dispatches
from our honored governor would have met
your gaze previous to this occasion. I beg your

15

inediately stirred the same with his boot, say—
111g:
“ “'ho the devil have we here? A spy 2”

In an instant the form of the slee )er s ' run
upright, (lisclosin the wild, hal —awa enei
Irishman, Mike, w o braced lumself a la Mor-
risse , shovin his fist into the face of Colonel
For , who ha a broad grin upon his features—
recognizing Mike as one he had seen doii good
serlyice, using a rifle in shillalah style in the
fig t.

" Be the X)\\'eI‘S, an’ its yoos, is it? But I’m
danged of care, at all, at all; ef it was prise-
deiit, ye was, cv this big America. yees can’t be
ai’ther pokin’ yees fut at Mike O’Keefe. I never
stud that same frum ony men but me fathur,
God rest him, an’ it‘s late fur me to begin that
same. You’ll take a romid wid me, or yees are
no men at all. Yecs might kick yer fut at a
Grazer, but yees can’t do id wid an Ii'isher wid-
out the loss 0’ blood. Dafind yeiself or yees
mither'll not kno’ yees in a jifi'ly.”

The smile upon Colonel FUN ‘s face dee ned,
as, with a quick movement, entirely ui ooked
for by Mike, be grasped each wrist of that indi-
vidual in his iron grip and drew him toward
the bar, over which ete leaned, an amused
spectator of his countryman‘s ti ht fix.

Mike writhed this way and t at, to no ur-
pose; he was in the grasp of a man w ose
muscles were of steel, and whose lungs had been
fed with the pure air of heaven, but his
heart was as tender as a woman’s, and his voice
showed it, as he spoke to Pete, saying:

“ Here is a man who is rather exc1ted. If he
wants miyfhing to eat or drink and a comfort—
able bed sleep in, give him the best you have
at my expense. rec’on he was worn, an
sleepy. I’m sorry I woke him; thought he was
a spy," then lmisenin r his rrasp around Mike’s
wrists, be extended his liaiu in token of friend—

} ship, which Mike rraspcd with warmth.

ions don for the seeming delay, but dark
eeds of lood lay thick around to show as me ,
excuses.” '

“Bite it right off there, Joe; I’ll be danged if
I can read; you throw me off the trail every
time, when you sling that sort of gab at me,”
averred Col. Ford. .

He rused the papers from Governor Hous-
ton w1th great interest for a few moments, then
sprung from his chair, and whirled his sombrero
across the room.

“ Hu-rahl for the Rangers and Scouts of the
Rio Grande! Captain Haynes, come here a mo-
ment. Boys, excuse me; the very walls have
ears, as Joe says.” A whispered consultation
between the two ofloers for a moment, and they
gasped. hands, hig‘l’icliyepleased at the news con-

med in the is
“Boys, I will Cap. to know how things

were working. You that come from Banketta ‘
= few Words in the Irishman’s car.

can inform my be 8 who were here in Brown.
Joe, and Kit, ]you
boys at Kate

know overyth hunk for a smash into 1'-
tlna’s camp 11 t 9 river. 'Mum’s the word, and i
no outside  Captain Haynes and Pete Colo

lins are the only persons here that’ll know where
we are gone, except Kate Luby. I’ll be den 1,

shall not shine on the pages of Texas history.

A surprise is what we’re playin’ for, and if we :
get it, with the force promised, there won‘t be i

quite so many sudden deaths amen the ranches,
or so many horses mules? and ca le, exten '
their range into Mexico, rom this State. Com
out, all hands, and take a smoke, a rest for a
few hours, and then, hu-rah! for the chaparrals
and vengeance! Captain Ha es, I h we
shall all meet you again, bu
when we la down u n the prairie, we never
her we s all over spread another

“I trust we shall meet again, colonel; and
I expect to hear good news of

ucno noche senors.

“ Good-night!” echoed the colonel and scouts,
as they lit t eir cigars.

“ Attention, uadi Right face counter—
march by file rig it, march!” and the boys in
blue returned toward the old fort.

“ Now, gentlemen, it’s midnight; allof you git
for the horses of the dead Greasers and bring them

‘ here. Leave all the harness, not needed, with

Pete; he will take good care of it for us; secure
the nags outside to the musquits, where your
own horses are, and we’ll take them out to the

Resaca. You can take a snooze until three ‘

o’clock. Joe and Kit, call, with my ccmpli-
ments, on Kate Luby, and tell the boys what‘s
up; perha s I may not have time to see them.
A i be in t e saddle at three, and no noise. I’ll
be with you on time."

The scouts departed to carry outthe orders of
Colonel Ford, while the latter smoked, up and
down the bar, thinking over the.plans for the

commg cam uddenly’ehis eyes
u n he formof ahuman ing,rolledina

l anket, in one corner of the room, and he im-

“ ’Pon me soul, uld Rip—as the b’ys calls
yees, no offense intinded—but I belavc ye are a
gintlemon, sure. an’ true. I’m an Irishmon, as

'ees might parhaps know if ye bad a talk wid

r. Kit—God bless him an’ka him frum sor-
ror! Its starvin’ I was-on a bit ev a, jackass, in
a wild perrarie, whin the b’ys icked me u , an
tr'ated ine kindly. It’s little s eep I’ve ha , an’

‘ bothered wid snakes an’ Grazers, bad luck to

rgodownandseethe,
’s; thiswill cheer themu to :

itisdou ;;

, enuf, or I’m bein’ hun

2 was no intention of mine to insult

, sup rasyou can, Pete;the‘n give

’em, an’ I’m thinkin’ yer scowts don’t ate often
too often, I’m not sure
which, but starvin’, s pleless, an’ in a strange

‘ land, I’ll not allow ony one to insult me; but I

know that yees did not intind to injure me fa-
lins, so it’s wid pl’asure l’ll take a bit to ate, and
sumthing to put new stren into me, fur it’s
in yer sarvice I’m inlisted suppose.”

“ You shall have evefihing you want, Mike.
I‘Vhen you know me tter will know it
you. I like
you all the better for resentingawhat you thought
wasintendedassuch. Get ike u as gxaodla a
a co
to s until three o’clock. You are ’nggavith
us, e, to—” and the colonel wlimispered 8.

“Sure I’d go to the- end of the ’arth fur Mr.
Kit, an’ I’m thinkin’ ees must be sum relation
ev his; a cousin may .”

“No, Mike, I’m no relation of Kit’s, but I

know his people well, and his uncle is known '

all over the world as the king scout of America:

. but out your lunch, Mike, and go to sl :1
boys, if the work we must do the next ten ays ,
. and shaking hands with his new friend, and

must look up things. No sleep for me to-nig t,”
bidding him good—night, Col. Ford started
across the Plaza to the camp of the scouts.

“ Sure this is the dangdest counthry I ever
heard tell on; fur they never ate or slope at all.

i Thunder an’ ownes, it’s meself that’ll never get

, used to that same. I’ll ate and sin when I
; canaslongasIlive, and maybees thatsnotlong,
God help me.” a
At three o’clock the morning following the
I fight at the Monte Crib, the scouts silent] made
, their way through the musquits to the Item
[ de la Palnia. '
! 001. Ford and Jim Ransom were now added
I, to the party.
1 Fightin Ben and Phil. Cole were left behind
: at Rate uby’s where the would receive the
5 best of care, and in a few (lays Kate
4, suiting the doctor, promised Col. 0rd she
; would have them well enough to follow the
A trail of his party toward the rendezvous. Col.
Ford had. in an interview with Kate, confided
' to her the secrets of the dispatches, knowing
' they would never was her 1i
, (.01. Ford and ike becamefast friends before
4 reaching the Romeo, and the latter related his
various adventures smce leaving Kflla-mac~
thomas. ‘

“Sur'e it’s disgusted I was wid Texas 'an’
everything in it, espechilly the snakes; but I’m
9 mateing such geod friends an’ noble gintlemin
: that I’m afther thinkin’ if the Gram, divil
i take them, don‘t slaughter me, loike they did
i the men yonder, and the bit ev a b’y, and the
, oxen; curses on thim, they don‘t aven spare the
-poor brutes; but, as I was sayin’, ev I get
I hro h alive, I don’t know but what I’ll stop

aw e in this connthry, fur Mr. Kit-tellsme
there’s betther land abuv here, a hundred miles

or so.”

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The arrival of the scouts at their old camp 1

now interfered with further conversation be-

‘ ly; the jaw dropp
at times, throws up an arm, in a lil'e-l' {0 man- ‘

tween the colonel and Mike, for the boys had ,

brought tools from Fort Brown to bury the
mur ered ranchero and his boy.

The southern sun was just Keeping abovo the
level of Palo Alto rairie as t e scouts lowered
the bodies of the Victims of the Mexican bandits
into one grave, within ten feet of where the
man was brutally murdered, on the border of
the opening.

it was impossible to take the murdered ones’
bodies to Brownsville, under the circumstances.

Father and son lay side by side, wranplped in
their blankets, as many a time they h done
before, sleeping together upon the prairies, but

from the sleep which now held them they ‘

would never awaken.

A wife and mother was even now, perhaps,
gazing out from her frontier home, anxiously
coking for those now cold in death.

Alas, how many Texas homes have been thus
broken.

No more would the little fellow, now cold and
stiff, cry out, oh, so mournfully and strangely:
“Whoa, N ig!
doin’ there, Whitey?’

Thiscry of the wounded, insane boy still, and
always will, at times, ring in my ears, and I
see him, as he sat upon his father’s co ' . With

J

; your

dead features; the e es wide open, staring fixed-
, and, as the stron r current

ner, you are forced to cover your eyes with
ands at the ghastly s tacle.

You think you could not more moved—that

the sight before you could not be surpassed for

horror: but you find yourself mistaken, for

round the curve rushes, seemingly dancing up ‘

and down in the waters, with glee, another
gorpse, that enters the whirlpool, chasing the
rst.

He mi ht be a brother; they look so much

' alike, Wi h the long hair and unshaven faces of

the Texan ranchero. Round and round go
the murdered men—the sport of the seething
waters, and yet they are so nicel buoyed that
they seem to hold the waters to t eii' service, to

‘ give them pleasure.

Git up along, Spot! What yer

cheeks wet with tears of sorrow, t ese rough ‘

sons of the prairie, with uncovered heads, hur-
ried awaéérom sight forever, the victims of an
un rotec frontier.

mass of dead wood was thrown over the 1
= citizens of Brownsvflle will be sure to notice

double grave to protect it from the wolves, and
the scouts, headed by Col. Ford, started up to
the Chaparrals toward Edinburg, keeping a o

1
distance between them and any up—river trafilE Q

 

CHAPTER X.

THE DEAD DANCE IN THE WATER.
For vengeance dark and fell was made
As well might reach hell's lowest shade-
A crime it seemed so dire and dread

That it had power to wake the dead!
c s n- s t t s

A crime it was so dire and dread,
This mutilation of the dead!

In ouhadstood upon the ' h bankof the
Rio rande, on the American si e of the river
above the ferry at Brownsville, thirty-one hours
after the fight between the bandits and scouts
at the Monte Crib you would have seen a most
horrible sight, such as would forever have been
stain upon your memory. The unwieldy
old t-bottom scow, that served as a ferry-
boat, was making its usual tri down below,
convey' passengers to and mm the Texas
shore an Mexico.

Matamoras, with the tall turreted-towers of
the cathedral looming high up above the low
one-do buildings of the city, lay read out a
short distance from the river—an awa be-
yond, to the westward, lay the unbroken ' 3.

You could not help noticing}, as you g need
into the muddy waters above t e ferry, a whirl-
pool of some extent. The river swee around
a bend: at the south end of this ben is a cove,
and in this cove a whirl 1. You would have
noticed often, if you been there before, gaz—
ing into the broding waters, 3. 10 would enter
the pool and go around and am until, if you
watched it you would seem to sympathize with
its troubles and would gladl , were it not too
much trouble, release it from forced circusing
and hum-drum pilgrimage, and send it skim—
ming down the river toward the sea.

But on this ticular morning ou observe
thata most object is circ ' around
and around, in this whirlpool. It resembles a
man. It is a man, and you think he must cer-
tainly be a lunatic to be bathing in such a dan-
gerous place.

You see that others are attracted to this un-
usual sight, and you hasten up the river, and
down the bank, to make sure that your eyes
have not deceived you.

You notice asilent horror upon the counte-
nances of those persons who were there before
you, and instinctively turn your eyes toward
the whirlin waters.

The bl in your veins is suddenly chilled

and the very marrow in your bones seems turned 1

to ice, for the most dreadful, horrible sight you
have ever witnessed, is before you.

The man you see in the water is dead and mu-
tilated. Two knife gashes upon his forehead
form a cross; and you observe a lar r one up—
on his breast as the force of the wa
throws the body up half clear of the foamy
waves. ' time

 

i
i

v
r

r at times a

you also see a log, about 1

ten feet in length, which is bound to the waist ‘

of-the dead man—the ends projecting right and
left to hold the'bod in the position it keeps,
and on reason, an correctly, that a stone is
attac ed 'to the feet of the corpse, to keep it
,pe ndicular.

Not only do they whirl with the waters, but
at times spin like a to , while they go around
the circle, and a proac the center.

A fresh thril of horror runs through the
spectator as another, and another body comes
sweeping around the bend and joins in the
ghastly, circling race of death.

The Significant looks of a few Mexicans near
you, whose faces show something of exultation,
force u n you, suddenly, the answer to the
riddle o the circling pool:

The dead bodies of these murdered Texans
have been sent down the river b Cortina’s

bandits, to show that they can retaliate for the ‘
, killing of their comrades b

the scouts at the
Monte Crib, and they are uoyed so that the
them.

With a sickening feeling you return up the
bank, but a strange fascination causes you
to turn again towar the whirlpool; and again
your frame shudders as you hurry away as fast
as your trembling limbs will take you, for you
see that six dead men are circling around, amid
the waters; a perfect mockery of death, inhu-
man in its origin, and more brutal than any sav-
age act on record.

Come with me up the river thirty miles. We
must make a jump of it, for be
red at near the same time. A dark mass of chap-
arral extends in eve direction—the prickly-
pear, or nopal predominating amid the mass of

them-covered bush, shrub and tree. A small }

we observe in this almost impenetrable
sea of horns. It is not of more than half an
acre in extent. A dozen Mexican horsemen are
just leaving this 0 hit: by a narrow trail;
they are armed to t e tee h, and we know they
are the followers of Cortina, the scourge of the
Rio Grande. They disa pear amid the Chapar-
rals. We will see wha brought them to this
isolated spot. They must have left some slim to
betray their object. Do not refuse me, and say
you have seen enough of horrors, for I wish to
grove to you that the Guerrillas of the chaparrals

opem'

eserved no mere , no quarter, from the Texan ,

Rangers under 1. Ford, and also show you
that we need not look to history to prove them
of Indian extraction.

Upon the o posite side of the ing, from

the point w ere the Greasers 16 t it we see .

three trees, trimmed for six feet from the
ground, so we cannot help but notice them,
even were it not for the sickening, ghastly sight
beneath thorn.

Tied, hand and foot, to the trunks of these
trees, are three Texans, stripped naked. A
gash extending ri ht and left across their bow-
els has allowed t e intestines to fall, so that
they] hang to the ground.

6 same cross-mark gashes we saw upon the
bodies at the whirlpool, disfigure forehead and
breast. and streams of blood have left their
trails from head to feet.

The arm of one is loosened from the tree, and

by a strin around the neck is made to hold a
piece of to o to the mouth of the murdered
man

Another-’3 jaw is bound with a buckskin string,
and grimly holds a pipe between its teeth.

The ton e of the other is cut out from the
roots, an -—, but enough. What I have told

on is to prove‘the cowardice and brutality of
the Mexican invaders of Texas, and I have not
told a hundredth part of the bloody deeds that
caused the cry' to echo, and re-echo, through the

chaparrals: No uarter to Greaser Guerrillusl
No more)r to the rturers and mutilaters of
Texans!’ -

N o wonder that the trees which overhung the
banks of the Rio Grande, on the American side
bore ghastly fruit, which swayed in the wind
until the lariat which held it to the limb above
was worn away, and it went dashing down with
dull thuds, into the river!

No wonder that it became unsafe for any 

Mexican, guilty, or not guilty, tomect a Texan
in the chaparrals on this side of the river.
committee of investigation, sent by govern-

: ment, traveled with a strong escort; they were

body is stri ped to nakedness, and below ‘
the neck, where he clothing has formerly cov- ,
cred it from the sun, it is terribly white, when 3

contrasted with the streaks of .
dri l and run down the chee
on e breast.

There is a [rightful laugh of dericiczz ude the

ore which have
and neck up-

r policy for the Mexi-

not molested; it was
them: neither did the

cans to in ere wit

believe one- alf that was told them by the su -
fen-rs from these bandits, because they saw
nothing of the miscreants; they were lurking
in the bush on the Mexican side, roveling upon
spoils of past robberies, and the committee

th events occur- ,

The '

 probably returned to Washington, hardly be-
: ieving that any organized band of bandits

ever infested the chaparralsl

 

CHAPTER XI.
BIG-FOOT WALLACE.
His uncombed hair in elf-locks spread
Around his bare and matted head;
0n leg and thigh, close—stietchcd and trim,
Rent buckskin showed the sinewy limb.
Roughened the brow, the temples bared
And sable hairs with silver shared,
Yet left—what age alone could tame—-
.v The lip of pride, the eye of flame;
The full-drawn lip that upward curled,
The e e that seemed to scorn the world—
That ip that terror never bleached,
Ne‘er in that eye hath tear-drop quenched.
Inured to dan er’s direst form,
Tornado, eart quake, flood and storm.
Death had be seen by sudden blow,
By wasting plague, by tortures slow.
By dart or lance, by steel or ball—
Know all his shapes, and scorn ed them all.

, “Cuss the sculpers, tha’ve cut my cat!
iYou’uns better squat awhile, inside. Boys
' this are the fust sa rise-party she has had, an’
she feels kinder exmted, an” a little wilted arter
her exartions to amuse the wisiters. Keep
, away, or she might take a hankerin’ arter a
5 change 0’ meat. I’ll just yank the dead reds
outen her chamber wash her off, and intice her
in. I don’t rec’on her varmints had time tew
cuigélfeep'h' F thad ased speakm
ore lg 00 ce ' Clown
" Jack and Rely were in the cabin and gizhe door
closed.
Clown started a fire and began to inspect
Big Foot’s larder. He soon had venison steaks
i uttering upon the coals, and the coffee-pot
i Havin got
, .

meal, ‘lown

; turned to his companions an said:
; “Cheer u , Jack; ou’llbe all hunk in the
,‘ mornin’. iss Mart , ou’ll make a 00d
, Ranger. I see, by your ooks, that this Ettle
; difficulty atween us an’ the reds ha’n’t set yer
; back any. Rec’on it don’t matter if I call yer

by er right name hereabouts. Wonder if
,1 Big ioot knowed yer ware a female? He’s had

so much on his hands, that he wouldn’t let on,
if he did. Jack, old Laird, er had a rut! time
on the run, but it mig t ’a’ n wuss.”
’ “ Wall, Clown, I owes yer aunt her life, an’ I
, can’tthink of the right words tew tell yer how
’ I feel towards yer. I got a hard lick from that
l Red’s lance, but I rec’on I‘m 00d for another
i run. ‘1 war kinder mad when heard yer shoot,
thinkm’ Martha were with yer, an’ in danger.
I had rather ’a‘ been laid out cold than she
sh’u‘d ’a’ been taken, or killed. I couldn’t ever
looked in Mrs. Wells’ face, or walked the plazas
ag’in. My mustang I thought a heap on, but
he’ll never dance over the perraras no more.
Miss Martha, I hope you are feeling well, so we
can makea start in the mornin’ fur I hate to
h r here; I want to git you safe to the river,
ant sha’n’t have any peace of mind till I do.”

“Jack and Clown, you have no idea how I
have suffered in m thoughts, for the lastfew
hours. I have not en much frightened as to
my own safety, but for ours; i would have
destroyed my hap iness orever to have either
of you lose your its, because I have been the
direct cause of our comin on this trip; I do
hope, and plug, t we sh encounter no more
such. ; do not think I was ever so terri-
fied as I was when Big Foot let loose the -
ther among the Indians; I could not but 01
fifty them, at the mercy of such a monster, all,

ough I am well aware that the would have
been filled with pleasure could ey have tor-
tured us to the death had they captured us.”

“It was certainly an original plan for Big
Foot to take that method of saving pewder.”

At this moment the last mentioned rson
entered the door, loaded down with sad and
lariats, which he had taken from the Indian
horses, and threw them down in one corner of
the Wrtment, saying:

“ all, boys, I see er ter hum, an’ that’s the
the wa ter do; just ’ist in all the grub yer
can. ou’ll want tew feed big, when yer have
it hand . It’s no easy trip fur a woman. Rec’on
I’ll sha e now with Miss Wells. Knowed yer
mother when yer hair was shorter‘n what ’tis
now, if yer have cut her off. Yer make a
lookin’ bo . dogoned if yer don’t. How’s yer
’marm an what's drivin’ er this—a-wayi I seen
John Moore, an’ yer brot er Clay, gliden to’ard
the Bravo, six weeks 0."

“ Did you see them,fir. Wallace? I am now on
my way to my brother, who was taken sick this
si e of the river. John, I suppose, is in Monte-
rey. Jack and Clown very kindly agreed to es-
cort me through, but I little expected to have
‘ met with danger so soon. We very narrowly

escaped with our lives, and had it not been for
the refuge afforded here in your cabin, and your
noble exertions in riddin us of our enemies, we
should now be either dea , or prisoners, which is
worse.”
“I like er grit, gal, but it’s a bad move. I’m
, afenred; t l *r’ are more’n one war-party on
rampage atween this an’ the river, an’ the var-
; mints knows we are hard ressed by the Greas-
I ers. We rec‘on on havin a big squabble WW:

{threw out its fragrant aroma.
i things under way, for a ood

 

V'Vol. I.

 

"'"."

 

 

 

 

,‘V'

 

No. 3.

’em, within a week. Ther’s a heap o’ the cusses  cream-skimmer, an’ he still lingers, an’ will, I
camped below, an’ I start to-morrer tew be in , rec’on, till the wust fitein’ are over in these
when the lay—out are spread, an’ I count on i States; but see here, I’ll take a bite With yer,
slihgin’ a few lead chi s into the game, an’ win ‘ and we’ll al '
every time. If I’d h my old reliable with me tew gtt in the mornin’. I’m _fur own countr ,
I’d ’a’ gone with the boys. I can’t count on 01 an’ you’uns, acrost yer nags is hunk. I’ve ho -
Kentuck no longer, the gun’s a gittin’ wheasy, bled ’em out, and picked a peart mustang fur
an’ don’t burn more’n half her owder. I rec’on you, Jack, as you’rn’s Wiped out.”

if I don’t run ag’in any Beds, ‘11 fetch the brush The simple meal was soon eaten; all rolled

 

1 roll up fur a snoozei an’ git ready 3

l

in time ter let ’em know I’m thar.” t themselves in blankets upon the rushes, which .

“If on do, Mr. Wallace, I would be vcr
atcfuIto you if you would say to Mr. Boot l
hat on saw me and the boys on the way to the ‘
Rio rande, and the reason I am a-gomg, .as , Clown prepared the
Joe does not know that Clay is dangerously ill,
and if they succeed in drivin Cortma’s gang ,’
over into Mexico, that I wish oe would try ant .
get stationed near to the Guerrero ford, where ‘ taken from his dead mustang.
my‘ Bflotgllel‘ layfisickv; 118 J h to ’ In aid hour all were ready for the start and
o't iss e. oeasone w‘moun.
Brownsvillel, hrter Old Ri Ford, an’ grill cum ' Big Foot threw all his venison in to the pan-
up when he dus, but what 'nder name Jack  ther saying he had engaged a Mexican, who
got hitched on tevgetytr’gr, tnew yer playin Ran— iihv (1le the stream, to feed the ammal every
er? Rec’on yer r s ay a man, as yer are ree ays. I . .
fgé’w’itew Slltfié’pearfii‘iis' e§;%§°§exfifiifis%§%r ’ 10.2.12: 31?“ 3’31? 31%;? ‘ySZrRZ’y'Ssb’SiJSEriEr35
ma 0 , — .
theraesl goes baggy on them, an’ I rec’on you’ll ‘l have to jam in suni terbacca to smart ’em intew
go halves, new. you ve seen how b’utiful she wel— ‘ keepin’ so. Ther’s Reds along the Neuaces arter
cumed her WISItelliS.” R 1 bee I th i loose stock an sculps, an yer must look sharp
“The be 3 ca me e y ause carry 0
‘ old reliab e’ Sharpe’s rifle, and they can catch man, but yer hain’t had enuflt' perrara tew
the name easy, being used to that am” make yer tew cautious. Clown, yer sum on Reds,

were soon asleep. '
Early in the mornin all were astir, and while
reakfast Jack jumped

on the back trail and soon returned with his

r l '

I

’1.

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4

THEY DREW THEIR KNIVES, AND LIKE TIGERS LEAFED OVER THE DEAD BODY OF THEIR COMRADE TOWARD JACK.——I)agc 1".

“Well, that’s cute, an’a good name tew. I
wish they’d call me Shar ’s, or Colt either; I
wouldn’t kick at it, fur ’ve got tired of Big
Foot. Look a ther! Do you’uns call them big
buffs? Tew be sure it takes a hull buck-hide
tew cover ’em. I have tew find a roomy o n—
in’ tew spread myself in, an’ 't outen the b an-
kets tew turn over; but it es a heap tew ti
me when I’m ba ced on ’em. Atascosa b0 5’]?
tell yer that I kicked ther Chanted Rock C can
from Devil’s river. N ow, I’m ready tew swar
with my ri ht claw on the Alamo-walls, that
never seen t 0 rock ’till I scouted up that—a-way
along of Col. J udson—SOme folks calls him Ned
Buntline; that war long ago.”

“Then you knew Ned Buntline, did you, Mr.

I W'allacc ?”

“Rec’on I did: an’ most on the boys what
war in the Mexican war knowcd him. He war
throu’ that scrape, an’ in the Seminole war. I
heard Wild Cat tell a heap about What a cuss
that Judson was tew light. That war artcr
Wild Cat’s part of the tribe located in Mexico;
an’ I rec’on he’d scratch Ned sum it he ota
iump at him. He is a tufl.’ one, that Ju 'on.

10’s been drowned a few timOS, hung Hp fur
seed, but they’ll never projucc another like him
 up an’ spit out, cut into steaks job
thru With knives, arrars, lances an’ balls like a

I know, but yer youn , an’ rather fight than run
or keep clear on it y watchin’ ther ound.
If yer see a trail, know afore yer leave it whar
it’s agoin’ an’ if thar’s any chances for ’em tew
run ag’in yer. If yer war alone yer needn’t
ter be so karefull, but that gall has a mother,
an’ you’ns better take care on her, or don’t yer
ever cross my section. Shake; I’m agoin’ fur
Greasers on ther jump, an’ I kalkerlate we’ll
make ’em take water or wilt. Ri ht thar!”
and shakin the hands of Jack own and
Rely, Big cot Wallace dashed down the San
Miguel, mounted upon a powerful black half-
breed, and was soon lost to view in the bottom
timber.

The horrible scream of the panther, who
seemed to know that her master had deserted

to the south.

“Wonder whar the dead Reds have gone tew?
The kayotes hain’t eat ’em so quick, I know,”
said Jack.

’em in the river. ome on; let’s git clear of the
timber an’ see war we’re agoin’. Rec’on we’ll
have tew make a dry camp at noon, and fetch
the Rio Frio tow-night.”

 

I were scattered over one corner of the room, and ,

‘ upon one of the Indian horses, bounded away 3

i saddle, bridle, blankets and tricks which he had ,

 

1

her, caused the horses of our friends to tremble ‘
with fear as they forded the river and sped on i the smoldering camp—fires, and beneath the

Kit Carson, Jr., the Crack Shot of the West.

17

toward the Rio Grande, we will flit again to the
chaparrals.

 

Near to the second horse—shoe bend, in the Rio
Grande, above the town of Edinburg, and about
twenty miles from that t0wn, was encampéd
Cortina with his bandit army. The camp was
about two miles from the river in a large open-
ing in the chaparrals of about ten acres in ex-
tent.

The United States government road, built at
great expense, through the sea of briers, thorns
and vegetable daggers, which led from fort
Brown to the up-river military posts, and ran
as near as possible parallel with the river, was
between theucamp of the guerrillas and the Rio
Grande, and within one—half mile of their camp,

‘ south.

To the north, west and north-east of this
opening was an im ienetrable Chaparral; to the
south-east toward bort Brown, the onl portion
of the camp from which an enemy could charge
upon them, and then with great diilicult , a

: few guards were posted, more intent upon t eir

or yer’ll loose your’n. I kn0w yer a boss stage- ,

 

own comfort than lookin out for foes, which
they had no idea were wit iin hundreds of miles.

They knew, or thought they knew, that there
was no force of sufficient numbers to have the
audacity to attack them.

The news of the Rangers having returned to
San Antonio from the Indian wars had not
reached them, on account of the spies sent to

that city to bring the news of any expedition
being fitted out against them having been killed
in the fandango by Jack Hodge and Clown,
previous to their starting to the Rio Grande
with Miss Martha Wells; consequently, the
Guerrillas were not only careless but very im-
prudent in not having out proper (guards.

They were, like the pirates of 01 , laying idle,
carousing and gambling, having on han sup-
plies in large quantities, taken from the ranches
which they had robbed and burned.

The central portion of the camp upon the
little prairie were picketed mustangs, half~
breeds, and mules bv the hundreds, and in a
brush-corral was confined a large number of fat
becves, which were dragged out and butchered
as they wanted them.

All around the borders of this opening were

shade of the musguits which fringed it, were
strewn horse-furnishings, blankets, provisions,

) and cooking utensils.

e a I a .
Leavmg our herome once more on the move, ; drinlnng carouse.

From the canvas—covered wagons, of which

“Big Foot scul d ’em last night an’ slung ,‘ there were half a dozen, the strong smell of

aguardientc, muscal, and Paris wine hovered
and the Constant stream of (“rt-arm's, (0 and
from these wagons, to fill their gourds, told
plainly that the bandits were having a regular

18

 

 

Gambling was carried on all through the
camp, and monte games were at nearly every
cam fire—a blanket 3 read upon the ground
se g in lace of a ta le.

Here an there were Mexicans, lying upon
their blankets, sleeping of! the effects of the
deep potations they had indulged in. Flies by
the thousands were hovering and buzzing over
and about the sleeping forms, tormenting them

. with sharp bites.

There were at least six hundred Guerrillas in
camp, besides those 11 and down the vern-
ment road, drinking, 3 eeping, and gamb ' g the
time away.

For three months they had been sweeping up
and d0wn the river, committing dark and bloody
deeds with no power present to stop them or
punish them.

The little thought that within half a night’s
ride 0 them were near three hundred desperate
Texan Rangers, holding in their bosoms the
hate of years and eager or revenge.

Just south of the overnment road, in a small
opening which w d have been unnoticed until
you broke into it, was encamped the Chaparral
fox, Cortina, and his oiiicers and body-guard.
The , too, were having a feasting and drinkin
bou , under a tent formed by brilliant-color
Mencan blankets, or acre 8.

Cortina, the finest 1001(1an among them
all, was clothed in a comp suit of embroi-
dered buckskin. The seams of jacket and leg-

'ns were ornamented with buttons made from

exican gold coin, and a olden snake, with
guabyl eyes, coiled around '9 sombrero as a

n .

You would little think, if you were so fortu-
nate, or unfortunate, as to be in his presence
that you were gazing upon the most brutai
murderer upon the American continent; an
outlaw u in both sides of the Rio Grande, but
so feare by his f0110wers that they dare not
betray him—a man who has been hunted by the
sharpest scouts, shot at a hundred times, but

who still full , and with the becoming
bravado o a Me can bandit, a are here,
there, and everywhere, when lea e —

dancing at this fandango_ or betting his dolen
doubloons at that monte 

can or American, have been to have
that he bears a charmed life, or has made a con-
tract with the 'Evil One-probably the latter is
the most general conclusion ammg the ignorant
denizens of the cha .

But,we hays glancedintohiscam , andsee-
ingdiow things are situated, we are tter pre-
pared fer the events which hover over it be-
neath a blood-redounset sky.

 

CHAPTER XII. - .' '
m srr’s mason.
Tan ‘sunwa’stlowlyhiding his facein the
chaparrals to the west as

Nolan, and JOM' , came , 
erent W“ encamped in a
me oping, some ten miles north-wasted
There was no shouting, no confusion' every-
thingwas conducted in-a quiet and orderly man-
ner,,as if the Rangers had been to
strld discipline, but it was just the reverse
Everyman knewthat the moon of the cam-
pa'fin depended uponcaufiu and silence.

6 camp was chosen, to be secure from
observation, in s musquit V
f t insmallclamps,atfrom fortytosixty
ee a

part

Assoonastheoaptainsofthecom me
and were ' rly exchan ng salu tlohs aria
news, each 0 the heads 0 messes rode for the
particular bunch of trees which was to be the
cam ing spot of his mess and divested his horse
of t e equipments, which were hung from the
branches of trees—the other Rangers of his mess
following his example.

The guard in the rear, having1 charge of the
pack mules (there being one of t ese animals al-
owed toth mess 0 six men, to conv'ey the
provisions, and cooking utensils), left each mule
at its mess.

Inten minutes the horses are staked out to
grace, the mules unpacked, hobbled, and every
man at his place, each e in his particular

mess duty. ,

Every hing is as regular as clock-work, with-
out any prekus irksome drill, or discipline, for
there are but few in the command who do not
know the regular, self-imposed duties of a Run-
ger, that are necessary for his oWn and the
company’s safety.

The colonel or captain dips his chunk of corn-
pone into the same gravy, in the same fryin -
pan, as the Ranger. In fact, when the fig it
comes off, each man’s business, in frontier war-
fare, is to be his own captain.

The bread was baked in the cam of the pre-

.vious morning, and the barbecued gieef needed
but a slight warming through, so a small fire,
sufficient toboil a pot of coffee (which no prairie
meal is complete without), is all that is needed,
and @3th a short time—the thick email??ng
be on around completely hiding e
biz-anndthe smoke not likelytobe observed
in such a level-worded country.

I .

three com of
b John 
together

opening, the trees ;

After the suppers are eaten, and everything

rtainingto t e same had been placed handy
or packingi then this or that Ranger is hunting
a former anging com nion, in some of the
other companies. Socia le chats were indul
in, along with the pipe and cigarette. he
I rds are posted outsi e the camp, and the

orses are outside of them but in plain view
encirclin the bivouac. before dark, ever
horse wil be feeding upon new grmmd, 
the guard line.

The low murmur of many voices hovers
around, until the shrill scream of a panther from
one of the scouts, stationed at some distance.
from the Ran
camp, warns t em that humans of some kind
are near them, and coming within the lines;
they know they are friends, or a different sig-
nal would have greeted them.

Every man is upon his feet. gazing toward the
quarter from whence proceeded the signal.

The rumbling tramp of a squad of horsemen
upon the sward strikes their ears, and then a
cavalcade of well-known forms break through
the musquits.

The Rangers flock from all uarters of the
camp toward the newly-arriva men, and as

snake breaks from the lips of every Ranger in
the camp, causing the leaves to tremble, and

strange, piercing sound, that would tear the
nerves of some men into giblets. .

At the scout line, this noise resembled the

IOIfi-éirawn si h of a comin norther.
rattle, he jump, an bite of the snake
were to come, before another suni .

Not a word broke the silence that followed,
when Colonel Ford Kit Carson, Jr., Reckless
Joe, and the reminder of their fellow-Ran ers,
from fort Brown (with the exce tion of cm
Clark, who had ne on ahead an
tow the ban t—camp to spy out the position
of with the Greasers), alted their mus-
tan'fiin a group, and elevated their sombreros
to _ crowd o sun-burned, fire-browned Ran-
gers of the Lone Star State. - - ,

traveled far, and were

fiy 1flad Widen“ read he ds isted to
stifled, an n ass
caiy'e of eir animals. y
warm

“The sight of our face, Colonel Forth fl
cheering as a ring, high up on the ;
Brazos. Come, all 0 you, to my mm, m 
in (your provinderfl: I . ’
- , Dofvou h ,that, me lords? Cap. bids us
to’the east! mavens, can this be thusly—
that, ami n chaperrals can be found’
that which '
hunger, which has run riot within me ventrical

‘J hishimselfagainl’ Kit,comesitbesidd

“Lam talk an’ more feediii’,
needn’t say that‘iwhen l tstlrted.

 
 
 

\~
Au _ '_ Maccabi‘wily eating. Ev‘en Kit,
for ones; ' 7 , for’there was something in
the ‘ of the catnip, and so many men

mass; "m “ iii"? 3233‘“ ill ham“
. even in ow es w c

e n rsea wi an appetibvf l'c can
only be enjgicyed by those who ivc  open
air and sleep upon mother earth. ‘1: ’ ‘5

After the meal, as the twilight deepem
horses were brought in and picketed wit e
inner circle of the guards.

All were enjoying their pi and cigarettes;
in fact, your real 'bonadlde liio Grande Ranger
is an inveterate smoker of_ cornvshuck am-
ettes, and mixes in with  frontier Eng , ,
a goodsmattering of Spanish, in an oif- and,
shoulder-shrugging style.

The murmur of ow voices became once again
hushed, as a second ther scream pierced the
night air, and Tom ark, mmmted. u a fast-
pacing, half-breed nag, rode u to onaldson’s
mess, where the principal o ers and scents
Were co gated.

“Bow e, I all on yer! I’m stifler’n a
peace com sh’ner. Sixty mile on a hard run,
since I left yer, colonel. Swopped mustangs
three times, without gazin’ at ther brand. Give
‘ me a rest,” and Tom slid off his horse, upon a

blanket and rested his head on a saddle. t was

too dark for the Rangers to see that he was as

le asdeath, his clothing torn by cha rral
ravclin , and his leggings stained with b 00d.

“ Hun y boy, Tom!’ said Col. Ford. “I
knew you’d make the rifile, if ’twas to be done.
Kit, sling him out some strongeoflee. Joe, git
out sum of yer rattlesiiakefml, and rub is
joints. He’s done hard ridin’, now for two
days. Mighty big job to make his leagues in
these cussed c ” ; ’twouldn’t be nothin’

ontheopen ,
WthitMIghtthecofleaandJoewas

 

The__1\l_’ew YorkwLibrary.

rs, at the approaches to the l

the are recognized, hundreds of sombreros i
whirl over their heads, and the hiss of a rattle— i

whirl upon the trees, and filling the air with a .

branched off '

shaking of honest hands followed. 

cure the dreadful gnawmgs of
of digestion? Soon I’ll be fitted to exclaim-ar:

    

. I, 
Joe; but :1" ma heavy-(with his buffs.

Kit. 
fipfi’tzrts infimvfim,
0 . I ' ‘

Vol. 

i loosenin the leggings of Tom-the small brush-
‘ wood, w ich had been thrown upon the amber»:
‘ of the camp-lire, blazed up, showing to both
that Tom was wounded and in a dead faint. ‘
“ Gentlemen,” said Kit, “ Tom’s hurt! Hustle
. around for water and bandages. Joe, get tho
‘ pain-killer from my saddle—bags! Be lively!”
Kit ran his bowie-knife down. cutting the,
leggings clear of Tom’s log. His boot was
pulled off with difl‘lculty, and found to bc
1 soaked, and part filled with blood, which had
. flowed from along, but not dangerous cut, upon
. his thigh. The hard riding, since the wound
had been received, caused it to bleed freely.
Tom’s 1e was bathed; the wound bandaged;
I the pain— ler a plied, anda strong dose of tho
; same was forc down his throat. This revived
‘ him and he sat up, looked wildly around, as
i the Rangers bathed his head. -
1 “Made ther riflic, by-the blood 0’ Crockett!
l Shoved her through; glided in hunk, without
‘ bu’stin’. Let’ssee how things war,” said Tom,
as he leaned his elbows on his knces, and cov-
, cred his forehead and eyes with his hands.
l “Don’t bother ourself now, Tom; drink this
coffee and take a itc. You are about furnished,
‘ let alone the cut an’ ride. You can tell us
what’s ‘the news when you feel better,” said
Col. Ford. »
) “Yer right, colonel; my grinders have had
i a long rest; hain‘t seen an b since I left yi-r
yesterday, down-river, an y smin-jacket‘s as
empty as a Greaser’s head. Slin along Slllll'
l thin’ what’s solid an’ n’urishin’. ve thing’s
hunk up~rivcr, pards, so don‘t frct yerse ’s.”
The whole Ranger force, with anxious faces,
stood around the mess of Donaldson, but not
pressing near enough to incommodc those cn-
ga ed in attending upon the scout.
hev watched every motion of the woundcd
man, owing that in a measure the success of
f the coming attack upon the bandit cam dc-
pended upon information he had obtainc , and
he manner of his obtaining the same.
The tion was, had Tom alarmed the
mugs in the combat in which he had bccn
in [when the Wound was received? But those
who knew Tom bcst Were perfectly satisfied
that such was not the case, by his manner, and
b his former way of doing business of like
chamc

 

ter.

,No one, a word as Tom eat, as well as
1 he‘ 00m his exhausted condition, the food
More him by his brother Rangers.

00!. Bord andthe captains sat near waiting
l forhim tosatisfy himself, when they knew he
would giVe an account of his scout, and ex-
 his wound; also the condition and situ-

a hat i‘be 9mm git?“ ' tisfled h h l
, en- pm wassa e s OV(‘(

M up the saddle behind him, and

,‘W his ” n his hands a moment, ihcn

g ' I  the circle of Rangers, and ad-
3

w " "i There’s: heap on yer on the anxious-seats

, ’ night, am I’ll sling my sermon intew a few
,1 Mef  I lit out hunk, from our camp
~ down-river, and dashed or good till my na
torn sum, by the chaparral, an’ struck dirt
Then I slid in
inward their gov’ment road, ter git anuther
Hoes. I roped astray, an‘ changed my saddle,
then got re dy fer cut infer the bush ag’in, whcn
I see a Greaeer cmnin’ up their trail, but he
didn’t this gazers on me yer bet!

I “ I h (1 my mustang'in er brush, an’ laid fur
the cues with my rope, one end fast tew a mus-
quit tree, clost tow me. V'thn the Greascl'
came alongside o’ my hidin’-pluco he war in a
deep study on how tew git up anutlicr rcvcrlu-
tion arter he’d: got all stole this side the river
that war wuth stealin’. He wnr figcrin’ on ther
exact words of ther promuici’mcntn he war iir
tendin‘ ter issue, when the noose of my lariat
fell in love with his neck.

, “ He war a fust cut Greaser, on might-kno’,
.or these things I’ve mentioned w u’d not ’a’ been
in his head, 'an’ afore he‘got ’em cut or knew
what exactly ware up, his Spurs went fur bind,
an’ he went fur the dirt about as quick as lubri—
catcd lightnin’, fur his nag had biz up the river.
or thought he had, bythe way the spurs lit in
tew him, an the musquit tree didn’t care tew go.

“ I than t ther cuss had gone tow the red-
pepper re ens, sure, and loosened the rope an’
ware m ’ on ther chances of life an’ dc’th

on the Rio Grande, an’ givin’ an’ eye up and

down the road when I got that cut from ther
aller-belly, and had tew bleed him tow make
im more docile.

“ Don’t yer fret colonel, I dragged thcr
Montezuma intew ther bush afore I eased him
off ag’ln, an’ left no si on their trail; smooth-
ed her over with a .bus . I was tuck back now
by his na , thinkm’ ther animals mi ht toll
tales, so kinder scouted u ther ro , found
him feedin’, roped him an’ tuc him in ther bush
in ther lead, an’ that’s the quadrupid whatl
cum in on; he’s right pcart'on ther pace, as yer
probabl noticed. '

“ Wa , all strai’t, so fur. I then slid thr'u‘
ther chaparral north, whar I left the nag I rode
in here, and put fur the cut-throat cam .

“Iknew just wharthawar byther ;
therwarheapson’emhoverln’overtherGreas-
creamp. Leftmyhorse an’ snaked itthr‘c’ the

 

“s\¢r \

No.7 3.

 

Kit ‘Carson, J r., the Crack Shotgofp west.“ .

 

bush with a wuss scratchin’ than Big Foot’s
panther c’u’d ’a’ gi’n me. _

“I had a dead sure thing on it when I got
clost in tew thare cam . The hull 1a v-out war
spre’d afore me. Fac on it was, t ar was a
good many lay-outs, for monte, on ther Sffllfll"
an‘ off, war agoin’ in about every bane of
Greasers.

“They have took sum wagims frum the

ranches, an’ got ’em loaded down with sumthin’ j.

that flops ’em over tew grass; ther war a heap
on ’em on ther snoosc.

“ It’s a sizey camp, but I rec’on we’ve t the
softest thin out, tew catch "em nappm’. I
didn’t see t er boss, Cortina, or I rec’on in
“old reliable” w’u‘d ’a’ gone off on ther hal -
cock and ’a’ sp’iled their biz.

“ If the expects ther Greaser what I run ag’in
down river, fur—as I said, be war a reg’lar sport,
an’ like enufl a pard of ther boss Greaser—why
he won’t cum; an’ all I hav’ tew say is tha
this ood-lookin’ crowd, countin’ in myself, hav’

at w do some tall shootin’ an’ cuttin’ afore
her sun comes ter-morra mornin’ or stand a
chance tew lose what’s now a dead sure thing.

“ Pass annther drink 0’ that coffee, Joe; I’m 1

as dry as a Mormon sarmon, and clean gone fur
a moose. We can fetch up at thar camp by
four in ther mornin’ an’ start at midnight;
kno’ the trail clean thr’u’.”

An exultant and gratified expression rested
upon the features of every man.

The hand of Col. Ford stole within the grasp
of Tom Clark’s fingers: he pressed them wit
Efat thankfulness for the service the daring

dnger had rendered tfhe State in 15:11:; very hazé
ar ous undertakm’ g 0 spying on e camp 0
an enemy, who would have exulted in torturing
had they ca tured him.

Tom swal owed his coffee and sunk downu n
his former resting-place. A number of b n-
kets were doubled, a soft bed made, 11 n which
brotherly hands lifted the now half~ ee Tom.

Joe sat byhis side, whiskin away t e tor—
turing insect: which infest the c parrals.

Low spoken orders from Col. Ford were pass-
edfnommantoman, ichaveallarmsinspected
by their owners, and everything ready for a
midni ht march upon the bandit camp.

In alf an hour after Tom Clark fell asleep
all the Rangers were rolled in their blankets,
except the guard, to take a short repose before
starting.

How many, think you, thought upon the
probability of its being their last sleep, except
the sleep of death?

I venture to say the number was small for
they were men who did not stc to think of the
dan er of a move—men to w om danger and
deat had been next door neighbors—brave
even to rec ' ess.

CHAPTER XIII.
m BLOODY PRAY.

"l‘was then in hour of utmost need
He proved his courage, art and speed;
Now slow he stalked with steady pace,
'Now started forth in. rapid 

e o
Hialook ew iix hiacheek wpale‘
He sunk efore hoedtold his tags '
For all his desperate, daring ride
A dagger wound was in his side.

i Q I! t t t t

lomrades leave him here a little,
Let him rest till early morn—
Leave him here, and when we wdht him
Sound upon the bugle-horn!

When round them an the b lee blew.
lv'l‘heir‘arrrm three hundredganaen drew;

'Twere hard to tell of this battle's roar
As swept the fight along the share—
What reins were tightened in despair
‘As Torah yells rung.through the air!
0 t 0

One dying look he upward cast
0! wrath and anguish—’th his last.
i 1 ¥ # t ‘ t ’
So did the doc and darksome pass
Devour the ba tle's mingled mass;
None linger now upon the plain,
Save those who no er shall fight again.

Tim moon was shining brightly, as the Ran-
gers saddled up at a quarter to twelve o’clock,
on the night that Tom Clark brought in the in-
telligence from the bandit camp.

The Camp land‘s. pack-mules and extra horses
were left belund in charge of a small ,

At midni ht the columns of Rangers were
winding sn e-like through the chfimm, Col,
Ford and Tom Clark, (the spy ha g recovered
somewhat from the exhaustion and wound that
had prostrated him the evening before) were in
adVance acting as guides.

‘ As silently as practicable they made their
way, tearing through the thorn brush from one
0 ning to another or nearl our hours, when
t ey found themselves in t 1e vicinity of the
camplof the Guerrillas.

A iss from the l‘ of Col. Ford was passed

£30m 1i )tto lip, down be long line, bringing them
a

Col. Ford detached Mat Nolan's and John Lit-
tletcn’s companies—one to charge the bandits
from the position they now occupied; the other
gimme}! (fl ahundred yards above, and taking

daon 'and his men south to enter the gov-

ernment road between the Greaser camp and
their pickets.

for making ready and a panther scream for the
I grand cha e oft e Ran rs.
f The loud aughter, the requent cry of “Brin-
,1 do a la salud de Cortina,” (I drink to the health
! of Cortina,) the “Carracas,” “Malditos,” hea d
‘ ulpon the tontos Gringos, showed plainly t at

t e bandits were carrying on their carouse into
1 the night, and that they ittle thought the Tex-

, in a pistol shot of them, preparing to scatter
death through their camp.

1 This noise and confusxon were favorable to

i the Rangers, as it would prevent the Mexicans

from hearing the whisking of the branches as

, the Texans were making their way near enough
1 for the charge to be more sudden and over-
whelmin .

Probab

l
. Rangers’ rifles to gain it, but it was their only
' salvation.
The gobble of a turkeywas to be the signal 1
 riding between him and the Texans,
e

Cortina. was in advance, with a dozen of his

to s ' d their chief from harm.
The thick smoke, the indiscriminate mixture
of friend and foe had rendered it useless to

. carry on the batte at the time the Ra rs

ans they were cursing so frequently, were with- I

were recalled by Colonel Ford to the e rn
portion of the camp.

The Rangers were now reloaded and prepar-
ing for another charge, when, out through the
smoke, h ‘ng close to the border of the chap-

. arrals, ed the Guerrillas.

man of the bandits thought strange 

to hear 1: e pro onged gobble of a turkey near ‘

, their camp, for no ranche was near, and no
l turkeys were in the Chaparral but, before the
, strangeness of the sound struck through their
somewhat muddled brains, a more bewrldering
‘ and terrific sound pierced their ears.
l The shrill scream of a panther was followed
; by the dull thunder of a thousand hoofs, and
I then the dread Texas yell, from near three hun-
‘ dred throats rung through the Chaparral.
{ ‘The crashing and cracking of branches—the
; snort and lunge of dee urred steeds, and a
‘ sight bu upon the ban its’ bewildered eyes
[ that turned their yellow cheeks to a ghastly hue.
1 Those sleepin in their blankets awoke in hor-
ror and fear, orfiy to die, for that long irregular
line of Texans was presented to their view but
an instant, before a scathing sheet of fire burst
out along the whole easterly side of their ‘camgi,
and the rattling thunder of hundreds of Col ’5

among the Guernllas.
hDown came the avalanche of vengeance over
t em.

Down thundered the thousand hoofs, crushing
tge bones and crushing the life from all before
t em!

Many of the bandits’ horses broke loose and
stampeded wildly about, tramplin their own
masters to death, and assisting in eir defeat.

The first portion of the camp charged n
was one mass of dead and gasping bandits; _
when the Rangers once more formed in hne
and repared to charge over the space oecupi
by t e animals and corral, the Guerrillas on the
westerly side of the camp were mostly mounted,
many of them riding bare-back, and ready to
meet the Were, but in a confused mass. .

They wonl have retreated had it been poser-
ble for them to penetrate the Chaparral: in their
rear

Certina, with his officers and guard, now
'oined his disheartened and confused cutthroat

 

filled the air, as he yelled to them, “ Courage,
soldats!” (Courage, soldiers!) “'Tenez fermes!”
(Stand firm» , ‘

The vociferafionélof the Mexicanswasdrowned
by, the deafemng‘ under and bhndin' g flash of
t e rifles of the whole Ranger force, as they
fired across the 0 into the robber-ranks

chief could form them into order.
The rifle-stramere dropped over the saddle-
horns of the gers; eir revolvers were

Ward at arm’s leugt

braced himself for another

No orders were given,
what do and when to do it.

On more the Texan ell!

Once more the overw 6] 'wave' of ven~

ce rolled toward the ban 'ts. Fast flew

e hail of lead from both sides—many of Cor-
tina’s men having revolvers, and nearly all
escepetas.
R1 ht into the masses of Mexicans charged
the exans, “Remember the Alamo!” ringing
through the blood-tainted air.

Muzzle to muzzle! Steel to steel!

(1 charge.
each Ranger knew

dened mustangs; the yells of agony, degpair,
fear, and death; the almost endless rattle re-
volver shots; the louder detonations of the
Sharpe’s rifles; the malditos of the Mexicans;
the war-cries of the Texans; the swish of lariats
through the air; the sickenin smell of burnt

powder and human bodies a were at length
shrouded in a ll of dense smoke, which soon
masked friend om foe.

“ Demonias Gringoes! demonias del inferno i”
came from the terrified bandits, as they hud-
dled togethm' amid the smoke.

The rallying yell of Colonel Ford brought the
Rapgem, panting, powder-grinned, and blood-
stained, from out the smoke of battle to hastily
reload amid the slain, in that rtion of the
camp flrst char d. /

The bandit c ief now collected his men to—

ther, next the line of cha ml, and behind

flecladsrgoke ivhichi was ségvgaihliff ' from the
ma e a espera or e vern—
ment road to the south. go

 

'lhey would have to run the gantlet of the

again drawn, cooked and held pointing d‘own- 
h behind the leg; the left r
hand held'the bridle rein firmly, and every man '

revolvers sent their leaden messengers of death v

“Give ’em blue bean boys, in place of the
black ones they gave the fer fisoncrs!” yelled
Colonel Ford and another ga ing fire from the
rifles of the Texans hurtled through them.

The weapons of the bandits, fired on the run,
flew wild and did but little execution, but Tom
Clark, weak and faint from his wound of the
previous day, was unlucky enough to be struck
with a ball, and as he sunk forward and
his horse’s mane for support, he called upon 't
Carson to o for Cortina.

“ Don’t et ther cuss slip yer. ’Twas him
what sent the pill at me.”

Maddened by the fall of Tom, Kit drove‘ his

urs home, and charged alone at the guard Of
t e bandit chief, letting fly a fusdade of revol-
ver shots amen them, and then with the 'ck-
ness of though , his lasso whir ed thr ug the
air, the noose falling directly over thé> head of
Cortina; but in an instant the rope was severed
by the knife of a ard, and down thundered
the main body of t e bandits in a sur ng mass,
nearly cuttin Kit off from his frien s, a dozen
bullets whistling about him.

Three deadlv volleys from the rifles of the
Rangers cut throu h the Guerrillas before the
last of them ente the government road.

Then the loud, exultant laugh of Old Rip
Ford broke out, as he yelled to his men:

“ We’ve got ‘em, boysl there in the trap. '

Give them enough of Texas lead to keep ’em on
their own side of the river, if they ever get
there!” -

In one densez disordered crowd, the Greasers
were huddled 1n the road, which was bordered
on both sides by a Chaparral sothick them
that a snake of any size would hav found t
difficult to penetrate. For a quarter of a mile
this road was as straight as an arrow.

Now it was, as the hail of balls cut thro
them, that they saw, too late, that it we d
have been better for them to have cut their
way through the Rangers, to the east, than to
have entered this narrow road, within which
nearly half their number lay weltering in blood.

The messen ers of death flew thick and fast

, among them rom the Texans in their rear, who
: had every advantage, and they no chance to re-

nd; and the loud cries of “ Vive C’orh'na !” i

turn the fire.
Sixty bandits fell dead in as merely
Down dashed the Rangers, over

‘ crushing the life from the wounded, in swift

ursuit. An 0 ' bordered on the road as it
Earned wwmg river, three-fourths of a

‘ mile from the bandits’ camp. The Mexicans

i came tethis o

, g was the only point of safety.
mowing them to t e ear h by scores before their ,

ning, but they knew there was
no safetyin heir mahngastand;theriver

But coming across the 0 ing, which

i their course of retreat la'y, is that w ich makes
, their sallow cheeks a shade more ghastl , and

 

The horrible shrieks of wounded and mad- :

; deepens the horror and fear which the e—

fleld behind has stam upon their features,
and which the thundering boots of the pursuing
Texans has frozen there. '

Two horsemen are com“ across the small
prairie like the wind. But, why should two ht
a robber crew, of near two hundmdmen?
cause they know that wholesale death, of which
they have had enough for one day, always
marks the trails of those whom they see bound-
in toward them.

ounted upon a coal-black m , that

springs toward the Greaser ranks as though the

: annual was apartner with his master in the hate

and detestation he bears to those before him,
on comes Big Foot W'allace!

His sombrero is lashed to his saddle, his hair
flies free behind the bridle—rein hangs loosely
over the saddle—horn, two large Colt’s revolvers

, fill the holsters, ready for use ata half—cock, and

§ two more hang

rem his belt, while his

hands
‘ are occu ied wit his “ Old Reliable,” which he

 

is about bring to his shoulder. .

A little to the south of Big Foot—wild and
haggard, with bloodshot eyes, and in‘tawered
buckskin rags, his_long, unkempt hair flgng like
a Camanche warrior’s his forehead to 6 “eye:
brows daubed .w1th blood-red, beneath which
lagqufl'BCk, .piercmg eyes flash hate, bounds Wild

1 . ‘

He is bareback upon a mustang, whose sweep—
ing tail, long mane and wildness, show a recent
capture, a raW-hide rope around the under jaw
to control the animal, but turn right or left too
much, a blow from a long, glittering sabernpon
the side of the heart'throws the horse beck to

 A Colt’s revolver in the ‘ 1: hand
ofWill shows he means that to do work
beforehegemnearen him-them,“
anIndian or lexican more Many

other weapon.

yards. -
e dead, and

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if";

m T;V-".'m_;

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The Neonerk- Liter?-

 

In sheaths, running down each boot-leg, are
two huge bowie knives. ,

The uerrillas, with cries of terror drive the
long rowels of their spurs into the of their
mustangs, and strive to get ahead of the two
avengers, but in vain; the Sharpe’s rifle of Big
Foot is now at work at lon range; a bandit
reels, gras at empty air, an falls beneath the
clattering oofs at every discharge.

On on, come the avengers! Cortina and his
guard in advance seem likely to escape contact
with this last danger, as they are better mount-
od than their followers. .

The bandits fire a few scatterin shots which
fly over the heads of Big Foot an Wild Will.

The Greasers leave the road, and make for a

y which the water has worn down into the ‘

gig Grande, but which is now dry.

The avengers are nearly on them, quartering
as they run.

The rifle strap of Big Foot slips over the horn
of his saddle; out come the two revolvers, one
in each hand, and with the wild Texas yell
bumtinfilfrom his powerful lungs, he is among
them 9 quick, sharp reports of his revolver
sounding in their ears, and every shot sending a
bandit to his long home.

To stop in their retreat is certain death, for
the thunder of the Rangers is close in their
rear.

The seem Werless and paralde with fear.

Rig t and eft they drop and cover the trail
with dead.

Through and through their ranks dashes Big
Foot, the giant of the border, death marking
every plunge of his coal-black steed.

Not a movement escapes him, not a bandit
raises his weapon that does not draw a shot
frfom Big Foot, that ends forever his guilty
1 e.

On come the Rangers. They had gained upon
the Guerrillas and were just about to open fire
again, when ig Foot and Wild Will were seen
cuttin the columns of their flying foes asunder.

The gers held their breath with admira-
tion and deep concern at the si ht of the charge
of two 11 n nearly two hundr , but “1%:md
on over be dead and dying victims of e
and Will.

But, what has become of Wild Will? His
maniac yfll sent a shivor of horror down through
the flEEg bandits as he charged among them
with ' giant comrade, and t on madly plung-
ing on his untamed steed, he urged the animal
down past the flyin horde toward its front, his
saber at intervals 0 eavin the air and descend-
ing upon the doomed h of the Mexican who
ha ned to be near him.

by does he leave Big Foot?

We will follow him, and see.

He makes furiously past all the flying Mexi-
 There are dagian ahead excepghCOé-tuifia
an is guards, an ey are menu 9
which leads to the river. ' g y

The object of Will is evident; he is after the
blood of the bandit chief, and even this man,
who fears neither God or man trembles in his
boots as he turns in his saddle, and sees the
madman avenger, close upon his trail.

Suddenl asmile of demoniac pleasure spreads
over the e of Cortina. He turns his horse
awa from the course toward the y; he mo-
ti hisguardtokeepon, andp es ont‘othe
south himself, so as to strike the river a hundred

‘ yards from the gully, where the bank is sheer

own one hundred feet to the water.

Wild Will gallo on after Cortina. The
maniac and the ban ‘t chief are now coming to
close qu Will lashes his horse with his
{3°13 sa , until the annual flies over the low

as like the win .

Cortina’s horse bounds toward a point where
a few sc muscluits stand higher than the
o hers. e eviden 1y knows his ground well.

haltshis horse and turns him half around
so the broadside of the animal is toward Will,
the horse’s head inting up the river.

Not three fee beyond the horse, sheer off
down the dizzy hig t, run the sluggish wa-
ters of the Rio Grande. A wild, insane laugh
of trium bursts on the air from the lips of
Will, as, olding his saber in his right hand, he
draws a bowie-knife from his boot. and plunges
thgvpoint into the hams of his in .

ith snorts of terror and pain, the poor beast
l madly toward Cortina, the dreaded saber
flmng at either side of the head to guide the
animal; right on to the bandit chief bounds the
maddened steed, and more niaddened rider.

Cortina sits cooll waiting, to meet the
charge. A few more unds and these men will
game together in mortal combat, or—what will

11?

1 e horse of Will is again tortured b the
cruel knife of the master, so eager for b ood;
but a single bound separates them, as both spurs
of Cortina are dashed into his horse’s flanks,
burying them deep in the uivering flesh of the
animal, who 3 in and p unges forward.

The saber o Wi d \Vill hisses throu h the air
behind the head of tho ,dit chic , and tho
madman and his horse, wit fearful momentum,
 throughl tz‘lie musiiuits Zighich lborder; the

. an own, own, ey p unge, rem
the 13:33 hightl One instant they are seen, as

they cut the air with the velocity of lightning.

’ and then the muddy waters close over them
forever.

Cortina, with the laugh of an exultant fiend
bursting from his 1i 5, speeds like the wind to
rejoin his command; 0 just csca she cut 011’
and captured; he reaches the river an urges
his horse into the raging torrent. Why do not
the waters in
tim a moment fore? Justice echoes, why!

The flyin Guerrillas come flocking down like
f ' htened gieep, so huddled to other as to im-
pe e the general progress. T eir horses are
completely fagged, and the Rangers in their
rear, are pouring into their reduced ranks a
galling fire, strewing the deep y with dead.

Col. Ford, Big Boot, Kit arson, Reckless
Joe, Mike and others dismount, and station
themselves on the high bank of the river, and
the long-range Sharpe’s rifles are now brought
into use.

One after another of the bandits, madly buf-
feting with the current to ain their native
shore, throw up their arms an sink beneath the
waters as the balls from the Rangers’ rifles n-
etratc their heads or backs as they swim.
dot the river for a long distance down the
“film 1 b i b th

ey st 0 out, one y one, 0 im up 9
steep, trealclhggous banks, and hasten to hide in
the dense cha als of the Mexican side.

The horse 0 Cortina carried his master faith-
fully to the opposite side of the river, upon
which the animal could gain no foothold, and
exhausted, sunk beneath the waves, while the
bandit chief clambered up the bank in safety,
amid a shower of balls.

The most of his guard also escaped, they hav-
ing been best mounted and first at the river
but one of them having his hatred augmented
by his over-exertions, his fear dis lled by dis-
tance, and standin upon his na ive soil, very
imprudently turne toward the group of Tex-
ans on the American side, and clapped his hand
to his nose in a taunting, insulting manner.

Before he had rformed the gesture long
enough to show tie contempt he bore them,
half a dozen rifles belched fire, and sent the lead
over the waters of the Rio Grande.

As the smoke lifted the Rangers gazed across
and saw Lieutenant Ccho, who was a favorite
officer of Cortina throw his hands to his fore-
head, stagger backward over the abyss he had
just surmounted, and plunge down into the
Bravo, to keep company with, his cut-throat

d

ban .

Big Foot wiped out his rifle, and reloaded
with the others, as he remarked:

“ Wall, Colonel Ford, I rec‘on we fetched that
cuss ruther han’sum. Twere as lon a shot as I
ever seen tuck, what bro’t meat. I’ ruther like
tor kno’ what we’pon slung ther ball. If it
warn’t mine, I’d giv’ a half a dozzan saddle-nu
furit do
be 9. her matter to decide as six of us fired,
and all the same bore, an’ dan if I care, as
10 as it fetched the aller cu at.”

e shot was we h, a thousand dollars to
the State,” said Colonel Ford.

a hould ev the money, I’d be afhter takin’ me
solem’ oath that l’m holding the gun meself fur
it was a double dose 0’ wther I was afther
puttin’ in the same, kno’ ’ it was 'a long we

to shoot I had. I on ’asy prove that same,
the mate it’spmashe 1mm me shoulthers far

it’s both ' rs I ed at onc’t, an’ I thoiight
sure the had roke, an’ hurried me up en-
tirely.”

A h lau h greeted Mike’s Speech as he
tore away ' , disclosing a black and blue

bruise upon his shoulder, made by the kick of
the 
“ k here, Mike,” said Kit, who had ust
noticed the gun Mike held in his hand “ w t
have you done with the Sharpe’s rifle I leaned
you, and how came you by that thing?”

“ Sure, Misther Kit, me darlint, don t beangry
wid me. I was bothered wid loadin’ so often,
an’ I seen a Grazer havin’ this beauty ev a gun,
wid two shootin’ places, an’ I whack over
an’ tuck the same, he makin’ no object’ons as to
me makin’ the thrade wid him, be the r’ason he
was sp’achless foriver. Sure it’s to. the devil,
his master, he’s gone wid scores ev his murther-
in’ blac ‘ard brothers, to ka him cosy alon
the roa , an’ ’pon me soul m thinkin ther’
be a rumpus in the infama rag’ons whin they
goes scamperin’ in a bunch to the’r future home,
an’ the devil’ll have a lively time ov it, a—flxm
acdumadations for them all.”

“ I’ll tell you what it is, Mike, you must find
that rifle, for I wouldn’t lose it on no considera-
tion. Westcott, the president of the facto

,

where it was made gave me that an
think a hea of it. But I say, Big oot, what
became of ild Will?” '

“Tell yer what ’tis, Kit, you’ve just stru’k
ther thin what’s meanderin’ in.my mind. He
lit in on t or Greasers when I did, stru’k acrass
in ther bush abuv’ here, store I stru’k the open-
in’ whar I seen ther vcutthroats. I war so tar-
n bisy with ther cusses, that I lost my pard.
I seen Cortina, down rivcr, cumm’ u frum
whar he had no biz alone, an’ I’m goin’ w fol-
lcr his trail, an’ see of ther’s anv sine 0’ Will.
Cur‘us what 8 cum on him,” and Big Foot start-

 

him as they had his poor vic- .

CY :
’ stampede speed on, glided clean thrq’ ther mus-

 

Vol. I.

; ed down the river—bank, while the Rangers
gathered together and prepared to return toward
the battle—field.

Many of the Mexicans sprung from their
horses, as they gained the river, and their mus-

‘ tangs were now alloping in every direction,

many of them ha y wounded. These last, were

shot, to end their misery.

The Rangers, half—(lead with fatigue. hungcr,
and thirst, now started on the return, over the
trail of blood, and death.

Big Foot came lopin to the head of the
column, from his searc down the river, for
some si of W'ild Will.

“ We 1, Big Foot,” said Colonel Ford, “what
luck about your pard ?”

“ J ust the w’ust luck I c’u’d fetch. Will has
knocked his last Red, or Greaser, but he made a
big die of it. It tuck a hundred foot jump, an’
twenty foot 0’ water, on thcr end on’t, tew make
him wilt. Cortina set a trap fur him, an’ baited
it with hisself—pertended tew meet him on ther
squar’, an’ when Will went fur him, brash on
ther jump, he gi’n his nag the spur, an’ instid of
cumin’ kersmash on Cortina, W'ill, who had

keets, an’ made a flyin’ leap intew ther Bravo,
an’ kingdom cum’, kerflop. Wall, Will never
tuck much curnfut, an’ sp’iled a heap 0’ boss-
flesh, but be war wuth a dozen other men, for
cle’nin’ out Reds an’ Yaller-bellies. I don’t
kno’ nobody that’ll miss him mor’n me, an’ I
hopes he’ll hav’ a smoother time on it whar he’s

one. I don’t pertend tew say whar that are,
gut I does say that he had it hot enuf here,
whilst he stayed with us, an’ I’ll miss himwuss’n
if I’d lost my panther-cat.”

“ Gentlemen,” said Kit Carson, “ I am pained
at the tragic end of Will more- than I can tell
with empty words. There was a dark and misty
vail hanging as a blur upon his brain, caused by
we know not what, and for all the wildness and
strangeness of his actions, and cruelty to his
beast we know he was not responsible.

“ IIi's fearful, grand leap into the arms of
death was appropriate to his character, and
‘ judging from the life of the man in days past,
it was just such an end as he would have chosen.
Let us hope he is better off than when his wild,
untamable mind hurried his poor body through
privations which would have killed any other
man. Let us remember his faulis as the results
of a deranged imagination, and form our ideas
from what we know he must have been before
some t and horrible event destroyed his rea-
son. here was one thing about him which will

 

-goned ’f or won’t. I rec’on it we d :

“Sure an’ if’t’s not too much botherin’ to get .

always make frontieismen remember him with
1 respect—he knew not the meanin of fear, and
; braved a thousand deaths before e lost his life
. by over zeal in avenging the wrongs and crimes
: Egrpetrated upon the men and women of the

rder. In fact, let us remember that Wild
Will lost his life in t ing to kill, in fair fi ht,
the worst enemy the one Star State ever ad
—Juan Cortina the bandit chief.”

“Kit,” said Big Foot, ‘fgut her right thar;
yer shakin’ an honest ban , what don’t cross
salms with ev’ry man he meets. I like yer

og—goned of I don’t, ’ca’se yer talk white, an’ e
yer ever it inter a tight fix, an’ want a ard
what stic tew the de h, then call on Big ' oot,
what's got a h’art as big as his foot tew share
with them what’s squar as you is. I’m yer
fr’end frum this day out an’ don’t fergit it. I
’a’ mixed with heaps 0’ am in my many
trails about the o’untry, an” I kno’ ther ring of
an honest to gue. I thank yer kindl , Kit, fur
lettin’ fly a good word fur my wil pard. I
ha’n’t known much on yer, but yer uncle, old
Kit, an’ I hav’ slipped over many a hundred
I leagues o’ lain an’ wood to ether. I’m thinkin’
you’ll not isgrace yer fam’ y name.”

“ I thank you kindly for your friendship,
Wallace. You are king of the prairies, as your
namesake of Scotland was of theg‘ri‘ghlands, and

your good will Iprize more than d; but Joe
we had better rideon and see to cm Clark and
the wounded bo . When our pards are suffer—
ing we must b n to relieve them.”

“ Load on, me lord, and though the path be
strewn with blood and do and the ghastly
slain do mock me with their g assy glaring eyes,
I’ll follow and falter not, but haste to bind the
wounds of me broth 1' knights. By all the gods
of waritwasag yflg t, and long to be re-
membered by you easy fleeing crew, who
now do hide themse ves Within the confines of
their own dunghills. Lead on, friend Kit, I’ll
follow.” '

“Hold on, boys,” said Col. Ford; “ your com-
pany is too fled to lose; we’llyall lope ahead,”
and turning his saddle, the colonel waved his
sombrero as a signal to the Ran rs to follow,
and the whole command, in a ow lope, pro-
ceeded toward the battle-field where the wound-
ed needed their assistance.

 

CHAPTER XIV.
rnn CAMP ANGEL.

THE road where the dead were huddled in
. heaps was passed; the main camp of the bandits
‘ was: in plain view as the glorious southern sun
burst in splendor above the chapurrals.
Hundreds of mustangs, mad with fear :3
l wounds, were tearing and staggering here

 

 

«so? .

 

 

No. 3.

there throu the thorny thickets in every di-
rection, an orders were given for them to be
herded, driven into the corral of the bandits,
and the wounded animals to be shot.

Kit Carson,

1 Cortina

As the whole command were about to scatter ‘
to collect the wounded and dead Rangers, the .

galloping of horses was heard down the govern-
ment road to the east, and all eyes were turned
in amazement toward a very strange sight for
the time and place

A beautiful woman, mounted upon a magnifi- ‘

cent black horse, that seemed proud of its bur-
den came dashing up the road.

The woman was an American—that was plain
at a lance, and a graceful horsewornan.

Behind her a few paces rode a young lad upon
a small Mexican pony, who so much resembled
the lady as to show at a glance they were
mother and son.

Some distance behind these two were a group
of horsemen, some in United States uniform
and some in Ranger costume, who appeared to

J r., the Crack Shot of the West.

21

 

 

ther necks, an’ scrouge ’em 0 en the bank, whar
skuted Will over, unbekno’nst tew him-
self. ’Tisn’t no use to kick up a rumpus about
it. VVe‘ll let ’cm glide out’en this world with a
good squar’ si ht at ther own country right afore
’em 1111’ I calfit a right smart show 0’ consider-

‘ in’ ur ther feelin’s tew do so.”

While the colonel was listening to Big Foot,

, Ben and Phil rode up with the prisoners.

“ Them’s ’urn,” said Big Foot, “ an’ my fingers
is itching tew git a rope around ther greasy

r necks, an’ rid the State of sich villa’n’us lookin’

. ladrones.

I vow they’ve got tew die, anyhow.”
At this moment Ben Thompson beckoned

’ Colonel Ford up to his side, and spoke to him,

saying: _
“ I rec’on, colonel, you’d not hesrtate lon as

, to the disposal of these things—I’ll not call t em

. a word

be leading b lariats two Mexican prisoners, ‘

who were ti to the horses they rode.

On bounded the black horse with its queenly ‘

rider.

Col. Ford 8 urred his horse forward a few
bounds, as didlKit and Joe; they shaded their
0 es from the glare of the sun; then, with a yell
t row 11 their sombreros.

Col. 0rd rode down through the Rangers, 3
shouting:

“ Cheer, boys, cheer! and a welcome for Kate
Luby, coming to attend to our wounded pards,
with doctors from Fort Brown !”

Up to the east of the bandit camp spurred the
Rangers, en masse, and with rousing cheers,
that made the chaparrals ring as the never
rung before, and sounded afar over t e Rio
Grande to the ears of the remnant of the late

men—but I sup Kate Lub has not spoken
to you in regard to t e circumstances
connected with the capture of these miscreants;
’tain’t her st le.”

“ No, she on’t sling a word only in regard to
our wounded boys, Ben. Spit her out.”

“ I’ll tell you, in a few words. These two are
all that’s left of eight who escaped from here.
The were the down road pickets, I rec’on, and
sk addled when on boys went in on the yell
and shoot. They hid themselves in the cha -
rals, and fired on us. If you take aclose 100 at
Kate Luby’s fancy hat you’ll see where a bullet
tore away some of the flxin’s, and another ball
went through her skirts—just cleared her stir-

, . . I
tew live long, an’ I propose to itch a rope round ‘

‘ rap-foot, and went under her horse. The rest .

werful band of Cortina’s Guerrillas—thus the ‘

exans welcomed Kate Lub , the guardian angel
0f the Ran rs of the Rio (wrande.

Col. Fort?e advanced and dismounted with Kit
and Joe to receive her, and own Bi Foot Wal-
lace, who had nouse for women on e frontiers
sprun lightly from his horse, and imprisoned
her do icate palm in his gristly list, with a smile
resting upon his features, unlike any which had
ever been seen upon his stern visage before.

But while Kate Lubivv was 'Fassrng her words
of kindl greeting wit 1 the exan heroes, her

eyes fel upon Torn Clark, beneath the shade of 4

a musquit tree, where he had lain since receiv-
ing1 his last wound.

he immediately alighted from her horse,
threw the reins to Kit, and motioning for her
son Fred. to come with her and attend with the
bandages and lint, she knelt by Tom’s side, and
examined the wound on his arm.

Kate soon had men bringing water, and the
position of each wounded Ranger pointed outto

er.

The doctors from fort Brown belonged to the
U. S. Armly, and had kindly volunteered to ac—
company ate on her errand of mercy—she in-
forming them, at a reasonable time after the
departure of Colonel Ford, that a battle was
sure to follow after the meeting of the Rangers
below the bandit-camp.

The wounded were tenderly cared for, Kate
insisti upon her own hands prepar' band-

ailifi bathing wounds, throughout the trying
scenes, and her words of kindness, and cheer,
were received by the wounded Rangers as from
an el lips.
fter the arrival of the doctors, Phil Cole and
Ben Thompson came in, looking 0 and thin
from the wounds received in fort town, at the
Monte Crib tight; but the two Moxie rison-
ers which theyled by their lassoes, tol that
they had not been idle on the march. The two
prisoners were bound to their own horses, and
he lariats of the boys looped around the necks
of the bandits’ horses, made it impossible for
them to escape.

As the two Mexicans beheld the camp of their
chief strewn with the ghastly remains of their
former comrades in crime, they trembled and
cowered down upon their horses’ necks, in abject

fear.

“ Hallo, ,howde? Whar in thunder did
yer cotch em yaller cusses? Tho’t we’d cleaned
out the hull caboodle. I’m dog-goned glad yer

ot ’em, anyhow, fur we’ve got a. use fur ’ern,
er murderin’ '
333, what yer think' lCThat hifalutin’,
son ev a squaw, ortina la a dangod
queer ame on my pard, Wild an’ run him
of’en t er high-bank intew ther ‘ Now
We can just him these cutthr’uts, each side 0’
the gap whar 'ill went over, tcr sho’ ther
chapar ei fox that we kno’ ther game he played,
an‘ can double on him, altho’ it w’u’d take forty
sich skum tew 't even on ther game. W'hat
yer say, boys? uz my ]plan suit yer? I’ll just
sling a few plain Englrs tew Ford about ther
matter,” and Big Foot started after Colonel
Ford to t his ideas on the plan proposed.

Colone Ford came galloping up to where his
favorite scouts and captains were co
at the same time that Big Foot came from
a  olonel ” and Big

W wi er, 0 '

Foot. “Them pesky chtthr’uts, t em yaller
Montezumas, What ther boys has cotched, ortn’t

to hang these two up as scare-crows, as
has explained to you.

“ \Ve have found some of our rancheros tied
to trees, murdered and mutilated b the infer-
nal fiends, and others were floa down the
river, after you left fort Brown, the most horri-

of the party are laid-out cold, and we fprogose
ig oot

, (lilo sight you ever saw, and that is saying a good
ea .

 

 

Colonel Ford held n his hand, saying:

“ Stop right thare, 11; their fate was sealed
afore you said a word. We give no quarter
here, as they never had any mercy on our boys.
Strin as many on the musquits as you catch;
the out desarve to live on God’s green earth-
an we’ll sweep the r-Trapar'rals clear of them 
we have to keep half the boys braiden lariats,
and spinnin’ cabalos to hang them with. Git,

boys, for the river, an’ string ’em, as Big Foot 1
says, to show ’em we intend to carry this thing

back, there’s work enough here for all.
must move camp out’en this accursed o '

Away rode Ben, Phil, Joe, Kit and
at a fast lope toward the river, the
bound to their horses shudde ' with error as
the passedalong thetrailof oodand death,
the r eyes wandering wildl , this way and that,
in a vain endeavor to avoi the ghastly si ht.

But we will stop on the battle-field, an take
a look at the strange sight before us.

We will take u our position at the point
where the neck 0 the opening connects with
the government road.

Before us, to our right is the main camdp of
the banditti; the ground is strewn with end
Guerrillas and horses in eve conceivable posi-
tion, some of the robbers stil holding with the
grip of death, the rifle, pistol or knife. Small
parties of Rangers are drivin the animals—
wild with the smell of blood an the esence of
death—into the brush and corral. e stolen
cattle have been driven out into the thickets,
snorting, bellowin and tearing at the bloody
eaath with 111011113: hoof. m d l

roups o gers are n er carrying'
their wounded comrades, u n bionic“, to an
olpen spot near our station 0 observatio where
t e doctors, Kate Lubgr and her son Fr who
is attentiVe at his mot er’s side, with his so dle-
bags of bandages and lint) are doing all in their
power for the comfort of the sufferers, who bear
the pain of their wounds with the stoicism of
Indian warriors.

To our left stretches the government road,
nearly blocked up in places by the dead horses
and bandits; and, $115 disappearing from view,

out an’ that we hain’t forgot Will, but hurr
We
’1

ig Foot,
isoners

1 are the Rangers with the risoners, taking them

on their last ride to the ows-tree.

Well and nobly have t e Texan main-
tained their character, as the best ush and
prairie fighters in the world.

Outnumbered three to one, the have almost
blotted out from the face of t e earth the

cutthroats ever congne ted together upon the
American continent, w 0 have for months de-
fied the United Sates, and the State of Texas in
particular, by committing the most horrible
murders, degradin to a fate worse than death
the poor women w 0 have been so cursed as to

‘ fall into their power, burning ranches,

:thefoodu

 

: tom-timber of the
strongest, boldest, and most murderous band of ’

The others In. cold and lifelem before us, their
fiendish, bru , degraded features made more
so by the hand of death.

Charon has had a lively morning’s work at
his ferry, over the St 1:.

ose who eep potations, and cried
“Vive Cortina,” last night, and but a day or
two ago yelled with delight and sneered with
derision as they let out the lifeblood of Texans,
by slow torture, are but clods of the earth, too
disgusting and horrible for the hands of man to
come in contact with.

Into camp dashes Col. Ford; his horse spurns
the ground proudly, for he rides a fresh animal
He is here and there, givin orders toeach group
of his men, then approac es the point where
the wounded are laying, dismounts, removes
his sombrero, and salutes those before him.

“Kate Luby, doctors, gentlemen, and last,
but not least in my heart, my brother soldiers—
doubl dear to me, now you are suiferin for
defen ing the honor and security of the ne
Star State!

“1am (happyto inform you all that I have
found a , pleasant camping spot down the
river, w ere we will move immediately. The
wagons will soon be ready to transport our poor
wounded boys, and take our honored dead to a
decent lace for burial. The animals will be
driven own later. It will be impossibleto stop
long here, for the hot sun will soon make the
air in this opening unfit to breathe, and the buz-
zards and wolves now murmur at our delay.
Kate Luby, will you and your son accompany
me now to the new camp? The boys will move
our wounded as tenderly as you could wish, for
we are all one loving family, bound together by

ties unkn0wn to so-called civilized life. Adios,
until we meet again, ntlemen.”

Kate Lub moun her horse. and eful-
ly saluted t 9 doctors and wounded gers;

faint cheers, and God bless ou’s filled her ears
as she galloped awa with l.
'd her a thousan times for the trouble she

0rd, which re-

: Kidd voluntarily put upon herself in the cause of

suffering humanity.

The doctors superintended the removal of the
wounded. There were hundreds of woolen
blankets among the spoils captured; these were
laid upon the wagon—bottoms, to form easy

couches.

One w on was detached, and lumbered alo
slowly be 'nd, with the dead Rangers—many o
the pards, or bunkies, of the dead, followin the
remains of those who had been more
brothers to them.

Silence and death reigned over the bandit
camp.

The cowardly cayotes pooped from the chap-
arral, antici ting the horrid feast before them,
and hundredsa of buzzards hovered over it, turn-
ing their heads to one side, as they flew, to
view the pre beneath them—their numbers be-
ing inc every moment by others of their
family, from all points of the compass.

By means of an instinct which is incom
hensible to us, these birds seem to know w
which they feed awaits them.
Shoot a bu alo upon a level praniegilerfectly
free from bush or tree, as far as eye reach,
and not a single object in the air visible to the
eye; it will not be long, if you watch, before
youwillseespecks afaroffinthe ,which,
as the ap roach nearer, you find are
and w en hey reach your position, their 'jonr-
ney ends; they circle in the air awai ' the
time when you shall leave the dead bison.
their feast commences. How did they know
there was a dead animal there? .

CHAPTER XV.
AN UNLUCKY sno'r.

But hosts may in these wilds abonn
Such as are better missed than toun ;
To meet with Indian manuders here
Were worse than lossot steed or deer.

I t t t t t #
She crouched concealed amid the brake
Near to the dark and slimy lake;

The maiden listened, as if ain

She thought to catch some istant strain.
With hand rip-raised, and look intent,
And eye and ear attentive bent.

And locks flung back, and lips sport,
Like monument of Grecian art.

Our heroine Rely, with Jack, Clown, con.
tinned the journey through the ho day, follow.

1'0-

 

ing the eventful night spent at the cabin of'

Bi Foot Wallace, and encam in the bog-
: the r dggod..a.teped'dgiu,
ere youn w ran

also plenty of fish. They stop '

nightsandada ,toallowthemseves undeni-

mals a rest; ter which, a hard day’s 

§ brought them to the Nueces, aboutm malt:
W

horses and cattle by thousands, and leaving a ,

smokin
down e Rio Grande.

Where are they? Perhaps threercor-e of them
wrth their chief—who seems to bear a charmed
life—are now cowering,
wholesale disaster and retribution that has fall~
en upon them, like an avalanche in the chapar~
rals on the Mexican side of the rave.

Q

trail of desolation and ruin up and ‘
‘ tors, whose slimy

below the deserted post of fort
cam was not on the river, but a short

distance '
onthebanksof one of thechainof lakes

that stretch up and down the stream.
Inthese smalllakeswemhundmds of Alliga-

uponthomr-

ifaoemuedinwonder, orwith a mongoose-

- tite at our three adventurous friends.
horror-struck at the 1 The

darting“ of‘rmme‘ nee ‘
walla of  and cat-m
waters 0 the lake in coth 
very muddy; but inlets were formd upon

. rah. w .3, .. -. .

0.x. .fis—mxfyw. .  - -'  '7

12W , p. +;-.-em.~ z < . -,

 

mv“. .

 

 

22

f

 

The New York Library.

 

borders of the pool, where the waters were clear 5

enough for use.
The horses were staked, on the rank, rich

which surrounded the lakes, just out from ,

the timber which bordered them.
When Jack returned, from taking the horses
to gram, Rely was seated, weary and worn, on

her blanket and Clown was busy preparing the ;

evening meal. Jack looked intot
and turned up his nose, sayin :

, “I’ve chawed that dangei dried beef lon

enuf. I’m a-goin’ fur sumthin fresh. I don’

rec’on one shot’ll bring the reds down on us, an’
I seen a buck below agoin’ fur water. I‘ll
make cold meat outen him,” and Jack took his
rifle and started down the lake, through the

efrying-pan ‘
ituck it when I warn’t expectin’ yer.

timber, followed by the voice of Clown, recom— .

mending extreme caution.

Jack proceeded down the shore of the lake,
stepping upon and over the smoldering trunks
of trees and through the underbrush, for half a

mile, w on his eyes caught sight of the buck he i
of the '

was in search of, standing upon the edge
lake, drinking. Cooking his rifle, and stealthin
making his way over the difiiculties in his path,
and keeping his eyes on the game before him,
Jack went toward the deer.

While thus, ste by step, approaching the
buck that still i, ly lap the water, what
seemed to Jack to be a 0g of deadwood was

reached, and as he had in the same manner 4

made his way over others in his ath, he stepggd
upon it, with one foot. His wei thad just 11
relieved from the foot which was on the ground,
his whole weight restin upon the supposed leg,
when the latter shot on from under im in an
instant.

Jack had his rifle ready to raise when he
cleared the last obstruction in the path, his
finger in the trigger-guard; as he lost his foot—
ing his finger unconsciously pressed the trigger
and the n ex iloded.

Jack reaped the rifle as if it had been a red-
hot iron an sprun into the branches of a. tree,
knowin not what an r threatened him.

But, ack was to to blush with shame as
re saw a huge alligator pram? into the lake, as

rightened as badly as h as f.

‘ Dog—gone ther cuss! He giv’ a curi’s chill
tew my blood, an’ that omery rifle giv’ me
anuther. Didn’t kno’ she was cocked, sculped
if I did. Rec’on I’m 'ttin’ mixed in my upper
story. Whar’s ther oer? Ther cuss must ’a’

t a scare, tew.”

Jack breathed heavily, after the hasty climb,
and still sat in his perch, and as his thoughts
turned from the rifle upon the ground to the
buck, he lanced toward the spot where the
animal stood; to his great surprise the buck
lay there kicking in the agonies of death, ulpon
the shore. Jack’s eyes opened to twice t eir
usual size, and he commenced to think and
scratch his head. He eventually; concluded that
it was next to impossible for is rifle, when it
went oi! accidentally, to have taken a course
toward the buck, for it was pointed u ward at
an angle of forty-five dfirees. Jack g anced at
mifion where the igator had lain asleep,

brought back in his mind about the way
things stjod when he lost his equilibrium, and
where th muzzle of his rifle was pointed. Fol-
lowing u the ima 'nary course of the ball, he
saw not far from w are his calculations ended
the longaflm'row of the bullet, where it had torn
u the k on a tree, high up from the ground.
pon Jack’s discovery of this roof of is gun
not having been the cause of t 0 death of the
deer he again broke out, in soliloquy:

“I n'ever he’rd ev a buck gittin skeered tew
de’th, but, seein’ ther allugater git up an’ git,
one wa , an’ me stam in’ anuther, might ’a’
made t or cuss‘laff’ isself tew de’th ” and a
low chuckle of mirth convulsed Jacks frame
for a moment. .

Jack ulled out his tobacco, and was about to
take a c ew before descending from the tree to
examine the buck, when he received a sudden
and stunnln blown n the back of his head,
which tumb ed him rom the tree, senseless to
the earth.

A half-dozen Indians sprung from the under-
brush, and bound him hand and foot.

A tall, finely-formed chief stalked proudly
from the timber into the midst of his warriors,
gave a glance at the thongs which bound the
captive,  a low order in the Camanche
tongue to on of his braves, who departed down
the shore, but soon returned with an old corn-
sack, which he was about to draw over the head
of Jack, when a gesture from the chief (g1:-
vented him. With a motion toward the d
back he dismissed them all, and thei proceeded
to dress the animal. The long 3 aft of an
arrow projectmg from the side of the deer
shoved plainly t at poor Jack had not arrived
at thecorrect conclusion in'regard to the buck’s
M Itwonldnotbemuchofariddletohim
when he recovered his senses and found himself

The chief seated himsel! by the side of the
format Jack, loosened a gourd from his belt,
in! poured‘wator upon his captive’s hood.

Jack groaned heavil'yh; (it lengih his

9 n

on
and tell u dian 
was she 100$ at Jack with/am

‘mm

 

r

 

Vol. I.

 

Jack knew that the least show of surprise hension ran through him, and he noticed that

fear, or weakness would go against him, an

all the bravo and unconcern he could muster
would be in his favor; and with the appearance
of as much indifference as if he had been in the

;, same situation a thousand times, and come out
[all ri ht, he addressed the chief.

“ owde, Mister Vermilion? Yer take a
danged ruff way of makin’ my ’quaintance,}md

ust
loosen these buckstrings frum my paws.
want my terbaccy; war just a- oin tew take a
chaw when yer tryed tew bu st my he’d an’
knocked it fiyin’.”

At the mention of tobacco the chief's 6 es
brightened, and followin Jack’s gaze alon the
foot of the tree, from which he had so sud only

H

‘ been knocked, the Indian on his hands and

knees commenced a search for the weed he
craved perhaps more than Jack himself.
He soon found the long plug of the coveted

Rely started nervously; but with a cheering
vomggie adagede her: d tak

‘ me, , rouse u an esome su r.
g VVe’ll not waityfor Jack githout you hankeli‘pfor
‘ a venison steak. We‘ll have our coffee, any-

way, .when it tastes best. I ha’n’t thrown ofl?
‘, on dried beef myself; I like it as a stand-by, an’
1 Wish Jack had at ped here. It will make so
. much trouble if he rings in a buck; he’ll want
‘ to cook up a be -full to take along to—morrow,
l an’ we ought to asleep.”

“I do wish he had not gone for the deer,
Clown, for I feel very nervous to—night. It is

i so dark and gloomy under these trees; the water

weed, ea rly tore off a huge cud with his ’

teeth, an
evident satisfaction.
Seating himself beside Jack once more be

commenced chewing the same with ‘
‘ form of J’ack burst throu h the brush. When

in the lake is so sluggish and black, and those
horrid, slimy alligators, plunging about, all
Seem to cast a shadow over my thou ts, and I
have a Fmsentiment of coming anger, al-
though pray God that no more terrors may
beset our path.” "

_ They both partook of the simple prairie meal
m Silence every moment expecting to see the

they had finished, Clown pped out, half~way

held the tobacco near to his captive’s mouth a between the horses and the camp-fire, and list-

and when Jack opened his jawsfor the expected

1

ened intently for some time, but nothing could

chew the chief gave him a rough blow across ' he hear of Jack’s returning footste .

the face, saying:

“Whar your chief, Great Big Foot? Whar
white squaw? Whar crooked fingers? Kill
many my braves on San Miguel; must have
scalpel ell Creeping Panther, quick! Me find
um

“'Yer talk danged good English, fura Our-

5

manch. Rec’on yer must ’a’ mixed with ther ;

Washtaw Resarves; sh’u’en’t wander.
Big Foot,
ter yer, w at just tore yer best warriers inter

shue-strin . . Big Foot have got a panther what’ll
knock spots; ofl”en you, an’ make or creep right
smart, ‘ rec’on. As tow the o ers er

of, if yer want ’em, wh , find ’em,
slash me inter hash, an fry me, I ain’t agoin’
tow slinga word within a hundred miles on ’em.”

At the mention of Big Foot’s panther the In-
dian gave a shudder, which with the revious
words of the chief, showed plainly to ack that
the Indian who had charge of the horses at the

As tow .
on lock sharp, or he’ll git his cat ar— 1

ri yer;

i

_ He  mient—blégskmiliche filled With forebod-
m o anger— to 1 who had a in
18.18; her exhausted form uponbt’he blankets. 8a

“ here, Rel , thar’s no use in makin’ any
bones of it; thars sumthin’ wrong with Jack,

sure.
“ He wouldn‘t ’a’ stopped on] lon enufl to
slash off a hind _uarter of thaEt bué‘k, an’ be
Earn": gnhalftomle frulrln here when he fired.
es a( - 'me ’a t ere lon c an’ either
the Reds has t 11%;], or he’s Eh hisself, an’
the last trick e ain’t like] to do. We must
think sharp an’ uick, an’ ' frum here. If the
Reds hav’ t im, an’ t a’d ’a’ be’n astron
party, tha’ ’a’ be’n here afore this. Tha
cum, anyway, bet yer life. See here, Be y,
what kind 0 medicmes yer got to take to yer
brother? I he’rd yer speak about havin’ sum in
yer saddle-bags. Hav yer 0t any l’ud’num?”
"‘Yes, Clown, I have—I hink a four-ounce
Vial; but, what do you want of it? You are

time of the fight at the cabin of Wallace, and ‘ got ageing to p0ison gourself, and leave me
ere

who afterward escaped, had joined the rty
that held Jack prisoner. The must be {2.3V in
numbers, and also unaware of t e strength of the

rty Jack was with, or thci would immediate—
y-have followed Jack’s bac trail to the camp,
and captured Rely and Clown.

The evidently thought that Big Foot was
with ack, and had no idea of an whites being
in the vicinity until th

I

had (1 voted him,"

crawling for the deer a the same time one of 1

their rty was about to shoot the buck.
Jac was laboring under
mind in regard to Clown and
surely heard the rt of his rifle, and would
soon expect him bee to camp. What if Clown
should venture down the lake in search of hiin?
What if he should 've a recall yell! It would
result in their deat orca re. Jack was al-
most beside himself, thi 'ng of the conse-
quences of such a. movement on Clown’s art.
He cared not for himself; he was wil in to
run his chances—to undergo anything if Rely
only escaped and got through safe to her
br'i'iiw' 'disagpeared h twili doe
e sun ; t e t ed
fast amid the mber, and the c 'ef I sat
chewing tobacco, with eyes and ears open and
on the alert, watchin for any movement from
up the lake. Finally e turned to his followers
and motioned them toward him. A few words
in a low voice, in his native lingo, and Jack
was securely bound to the same tree he had

one to cope wit the dangers which sur-

round us? Do you really think Jack is ca
tuned? God egotect me from the Red 
1:; us fly wn, from this dreadful spot. I
gegformdld it.” his place from the first time my eyes
own now came up to where Rel reclined.
As_she ceased speaking, holding they bottle of

whisky m his hand, he said:

“ Now, Rel , to make things sure, if we are

l cotched by t e Reds, why, We will doctor this

t concern of 3
1y, as they had 3

 

2 ground, made his we

been knocked from, and left there—the last I
salutation of the chief being to squirt a stream 1 died down, so that a human form could hardly

of tobacco saliva directly into J ack’s face.

“ By the blood of Crockett I’ll y er fur
that, if I hav’ ter foller er tew til); ockies,
yer sneakin’, cowardly, ousy cuss ev a Ca-
manchel Dang my eyes if I ain’t in a tight-fit
an’ they’ll git Rely now. Cuss the idea what
fetched me fur that buck. I’d better never
’a’ tested fresh meat ag’in.”

But, we will leave Jack, bound to the tree, suf-
fering great agonies of mind in re rd tohis
fellow-travelers, and in bod , from he tortur-
' cords about his wrists an ankles.

0 Indians remove the carcass of the deer
a few steps down the lake to their camp], and
are preparing to make an advance up in t e di-
rection from which Jack had come, to make a
moonnoissanoe of the camp of the whites.

Did they know that but two rsons occupied
the caiup up the lake, they wo d not have look-
ed u the undertaking soseriously; but, think-
ing t t Big Foot, the dreaded giant, was with the
party an they numbering but eight warriors,

h ew the must  with caution, for
as so]: had fore t is time been missed, and
so ftcd a scout as Big Foot would have cér-

y infcrred the cause of his absence, they
would be expected.

Clown had just pulled the coffee- t from off
the coals to settle, when the rifle-s 0t of Jack
broke on the air and echoed thrguufh the tim
bet. In spite ofhimself scold c of appre-

'.
O

 

whisky, fur they’ll be sure to go for it the fast
thing, when they rummage around our camp
tricks.”

“ What an idea i” said Rely, as she asscd the
vial to Clown, who the conten into the
whisky, and as it di not q'tlinite fill the bottle, he
added some water, and rep ced it in his saddle-

‘; Now, Rely, please to get our tricks to-
ether. I’ll go fur the horses. or can bet yer
ife Jack is bagged, an’ we will be if we don’t

git frum here.’

Clown immediately started for the animals,
but soon returned to Rely, and sped her by
the aim, whispering hoarser mgr ears: “ The
horses are gone, and we are lost.”

form into a

Clown hurried Reziy’s tremblin
dense thicket of un erbrush can ioned her to
silence, and, telling her to be brave, that he
would soon return, he slow] glided alon the
g y to t e opposite si e of
the camp, then boldly entered it. The fire had

be distinguished. Clown rolled the blankets of
the party about logs of deadwood, and lacod
them around the fire to resemble sleeping orms;
there was but a chance and that was all, that
the Indians were not alread observing him;
but, possibl they were not; 0 could not say
that they ad returned from removing the
horses, or whether they had left a spy behind
to watch the camp.

When Clown had fixed things to suit him he
threwa hug: amount of wood upon the emb’ers
and then, . fore a blaze lit up the cam ), hé
took his rifieand crawled away towar the
hidin -place of Rely, but, before he had one
twen 'paces, three warriors sprun upon im
bore In to the earth, wrenc in iis rifle and
six shooters from him, and in an stunt he was
bound securely, hand and foot.

. The camp-fire now burst into a blaze, throw-
ing a brilliant t around, and as his captors

bore him to a at the cam -fire othe -
dians were kicld the blankets Shout. r In

The chief poin significantly at the three
saddles, say

in :

“The Big Fgoot chief and his cat sta

lodcge. Find the white squawi” y M ms-
ownwas bound toatreenearthefire, and
the Indians scattered to hunt for Rel .

When Clown left Rely hidden in he bush“
she lost all hope, and kneeling, she prayed for:
vently to God to preserve herself and friends
from the great troubles that seemed thickening

N923-

Kit Carson,‘.Ir., the Crack Shot of the West.

23

 

 

 

around them, and to lead them safely to her
sick brother, and that they both might again be
permitted to see the face of their dear mother.
As she finished her orisons, and her thoughts his nostrils.
“ere, notwithstanding her present dangerous { The inSpection satisfied him, for he imme-
position, wanderi to lOVed ones far away, the i diatel took a long draught of the liquor, and
struggle of the Indians with her only remaining ‘ passe it to the next brave, and so it went
protector sent a thrill 0f agony to her heart. around the circle, as the were seated among
She listened intently; she knew that Clown the saddles and camp trio 8.
had been ove )wered suddenly and unexpect— “Now, what yer thinks o’ l’ud’num, Rely?”
edlv or he wo d have fired his rifle. whis cred Clown. “ I ain’t so much of a bam- ‘
She cowered down to the earth, and wept bit- boos in’ fool as yer tuck me fur, am I?” 1
ter tears to think that perhaps she had been the , “ Oh, heaven be praised, Clown! God ever
direct means of bringing two brave, noble men ; bless you! Who would have thought of such a
too. horrible death. 1 plot at such a time? We may t free et, if
A slashing and crashin of branches toward 1 they do not get maddened by e drin and
the lake below her struck er ears; 8. heavy body l butcher us.” ,
seemed dragging along the earth toward her; ‘ “'I‘ha’ can’t do it; thar’s toomuch l’ud’num; ‘
it was crawling up the bank; a musk y, nausea- it’ll knock the sculps right of ’en the’r heads, see 3
ting smell tilled the air; the heavy body came l ef it don’t! I wish tew thunder I knowed what
nearer and nearer, the smell sickened her, and i had becum of Jack. Yer see, the tuck him
the consciousness of an unlooked-for dan er, in unawares or he w’u’d ’a’ "11 ’em ts with his
some unknown and horrible form, stagua d her shuteis. I see the Cree n’ nther has got ’em
blood. J buckled round him. If 'g Foot’s panther went
It must be, it was, one of the large alligators * fur him, I reckon he’d do s1un dog-goned tall ,
e had seen in the lake! ()h, horror of horrors! , creepin’, sure and sartin.”
e dreadful, dis rustingnionster would drag .
her into the dark epths of the lake, in his 'aws, 1 But to return to )oor Jack, lashed to the tree ,
and none would ever know the horrible eath . in the darkness of e night, the damp air, filled ‘
she had died. : with the loathsome scent of alligators that were ‘
Shetricd to creep away, but her limbs seem- ’ having a regular jubilee and squabble not far
ed devoid of all motion. She heard, oh, how from im. ‘
distinctly! the claws pf the alligator tear into The pain from the buckstring—cords cutting r
the bank as the monster exerted itself to gain a ‘ into his flesh, and the knowledge that his friends ‘
hold, and the ponderous form move nearer and were in great danger all combined to make
maarer. v Jack the most miserable of men. ‘
Rely closed her eyes and prayed in whispers The knowledge that he could not be of any ‘;
for deliverance from this most dreadful death assistance to Rely and Clown in the hour of
Which now threatened her. > their great :- was the worst of Jack’s
The bushes rted, and were down to ‘g troubles; he con (1 hear everything with forti-
the earth by t ‘0 great weight n the amphibious , tude except that. i
monster; its loathsome breath fanned her cheek, F Jack twisted and worked himself this wa
' and that way in the endeavor to release himse

had shown for tobacco, and he
them, took the bottle, and applie the same to l

 

 

and then the cold,’ slimy nose suddenly struck
her hand, ‘ ’ '

This broke the , glen which bound her. She
sprung, with one , d, ’ ercing shriek, from the

ashes, and fell into 9 arms ,of an Indian
bane, but she knew it not, fer her senses kindly
left her at the moment, and went out into the
air with that agonizi scream of horror.

The long tedious ri es to which she was not
accustomed, constant watchfulness, the ride for
life from the Indians, the bloody scenes at the
cabin of Big Foot, would have worn out even a
man, unused to such a life.

The shriek of Rely pierced not on] the heart
of Clown, but of poor Jack, afar , bound to
the tree, and caused him to red ble his exer-
tions to free himself from the gulfi‘nfithon .

Rely was brought into camp, 3 ash 0 cold
water thrown into her face Which revived her,
and showed, too plainly tothe suffering maiden, thought they did to capture the camp above.
her horrible surroundings. The crashi of the huge reptiles, the snapping

She was bound by the waist securelyto atree, of the pen erous jaws, came nearer to poor
next to Clown and but a few feet from him. Jack.

From the knowledge of her inabilityto escape, The beads of a n sweat stood thick upon
the left her hands free. his forehead, and 9 ad 'ven up all hopes of

.S e returned Clown’s look of sorrow and deep an extended existence in t '
pity, With one of utter hopelessness and despair. piercing shriek of Rel rung through the woods

Creeping Pantherstoodbefore her with f0 ed as she sprung from ghe co d jaws of the alli-
arms, an air of triumph, majesty and command gator.
upon his features, an in the very powe of form Every sinew in Jack’s frame became steel.

He gave a superhuman effort, a lungs forward;

and limb.

.“,When did the white squaws turn warriors? , the cords binding his hands snapped asunder,
Are the pale-faces so weak that the put the ‘ and he fell forward, causing the ankle lashin
women on the war- ath? Creeping anther is ‘ to tear his flesh terribly but, he felt it not;
happy; the Rose 0 the Alamo is his ca tive;
the ll‘dS told him; she be his squaw, b 'd his

fire, cook his meat, away beyond the big, dry
ain

“ Creep Panther’s ears have been tickled not twenty feet away.
with tales o the Rose of the Alamo; his braves , and beat at the cords which bound his ankles,
see her at fort Mason; the Great Spirit has led j he unded them where they encircled the
her into the arms of Cree mg Panther, and his l of the tree, until they were bruised apart
heart grows big With gl ness.” and he was free. He wagered to the lake,

Rely, sceing that her )osition was one of great driving the coward] alliga rs before him. 'He
danger—in fact no pos51 illty of release present- ‘ threw water with his hands into his parched
infi itself to her mind, became desperate; her l mouth, on his wounded ankles and wrists, and
w 0

tree; he was rather fleshy, and the cords caused
a swellin of the limbs, which was extremely
painful. e eventually writhed about to sue

and dampness from the l

bound his hands.

Jack was congratulating himself at even this
1 slight change in 'his favor, when, to his horror
he heard several large alligators'slash up out o
‘ the lake and come lumbering toward him.

This, then was the death the Indians had in-
tended he should die—to be torn in pieces by
these loathsome things.

No, it could not be, for they would not give
1‘? such a chance for torturing a prisoner; it

as because they needed every brave, or

with
he :3er a piece in each hand, raised up an

 

le nature seemed to undergo a change, as l bathed his ac head, then staggered wildly
she drew back her arm and struck the chief a I through the wood ward the camp.
violent blow in the face. . He ad no arms defend himself with, or
. Creeping Panther swerved but slightly from i assist his friends, if they were still alive.
the force of the blow, and a smile hovered OVer ‘ On on, as fast as his cram limbs would
hi§,l‘9PUI81V01y painted face. 1 take him, until the flreli ht o the camp shone
A leaf hash own from theRose and brushed 1 through the trees. He k his course toward
the face of (keeping Panther; he loves the ; where the horses had been left; he knew that
broeae that Sent 1t- l a point near this commanded a view of the
_“ Kee ) your love-talk for the we of your l' camp.
tPlbe. want neither Your words nor presence; . He ained the o n t ° a narrow cut
leave me; I have thatmthink of Which tearsmy  thro the trees owed)0 him a s' ht that

heart. Have you no compassion u a woman W h b t
who journeys to care for a_ sick 913th“  gum! 1:1“ opé—Clown and Rely V9, 11
you must detain and bind her and her ‘ Jack scouted up toward them to see how he
friendsto trees. like dogs? If you are such a could be of assistance; he saw the Indians

mighty warrior, release us, and, outnumberin were drinking, but knew that there was not
usas you do, we will blot you from the cart] whisky enou h to t two of them drunk.
forever, murderers and tortuters of innocent , The satisfied ooks o Rely and Clown puzzled
firemen and babes! You are t$16 ding , him.
e thanthe slim alliga r o e r
lake below.” y
At thés stage of the cont'rove between
Creep

He crawled nearer, keeping the trunk of a
tree, with bushes are it, between himself
and camp. There lean the rifles of the party;
Eiely an ing Panther, the la r’s atten- > he must secure them. What did the Indians
non was drawn by dee grunts of satisfaction mean by having no guard out? , He could not
from his ‘yvarriors, who ad discovered the bot- ‘ understand wh things were so loose.
tie of whisky in the saddlobag of Clown. _ I lack an ed in getting the rifles, and a.

Inaninstanthiseyes brigh ned;hehadev1- knife hanging to one of them. Not even

 

‘* from.th thongs which bound his hands to the .

an extent that, with the hel of the heavy dew, 3
e, he succeeded in l
slackening the buckstring considerably which ;

‘ an idea of savin
' vengeance of his

dently as much hankering after spirits as he E Clown or Rel had noticed him, so intent
among a were they watc

.

g the Indians.

Jack made his way, noisele on through
the bushes, behind the trees to w ch Rely and
Clown were bound; he stood close behind
Clown and laid his warm hand on his pard’s,
whis ring:

“” eep still; show no sign, an’ be re’dy fur
biz.

Clown whispered to Rely in a significant
manner.

“ Jack is hunk; don’t be nervous; clear trail
ahead!” ‘

“ Clown’s cords parted above, and below; the
cold barrel of his rifle was left in his palm, but
he remained in the same position.

Rel was soon freed of her thongs, and a
working of fingers and a changing of weight,
from one limb to another, soon ,brought back
circulation, clogged by the cords.

The whisky and laudanum had a strange ef-
fect upon the Indians. There had been but one

still born to each, but, still they sat there,
eeling no inclination to rise from the sitting
posture which they had occupied since the
chief had joined them.

They seemed to realize that somet ' was
wrong, and at each other in blan dis-
may. All a once a feeling seemed to come
over them that they must do something and ina
very awkward manner, they scrambl to their

1 feet, and stood in a wavering way looking at

their captives. They seemed to r ize that the
whites were the cause of, they knew not what,
but they had a suspicion that some horrible
death awaited them, which they would be un—
able to combat inst; their hands went trem-

, blingl to the ives in their belts; murder
‘ glared plainly from their eyes.

It was ev1dent that Creepin Pahther had
the life of 1y from the
raves, for he made a weak
bound toward her, knife in hand, and half
turned to hurl them back, as the re rt of
J ack’s rifle broke on the night air, and t e chief

‘ fell a corpse, in his tracks. In an instant after,

‘ the rifles of Rely and Clown also sent their

8 world when the E _
’ she was braving so many and homble dangers;

 

half  himself; his hands came in contact I
pieces of petrified wood as hard as iron ,
!

He took another piece, ‘

hurled them With great force at the alligators l mind been tortured by anxi

messen ers of death. Jack bounded to the side
of the fiend chief, regained his revolvers, and,
right and left, sent the balls into the bewildered

Indians, until all lay weltering in gore.
The hands of our three wandering friends
over the dead, and their uncovered

, c
‘ hltmdtumed reverently toward heaven, as

Rel in sweet, soft tones, muttered her prayer:
“ 6 thank thee, oh God, for answering the
grayers of; poor weak mortal, surrounded by
anger an load, and delivering us from the
mercilea savages who had a thousand deaths in
store for us. ”
“Amen!” rung in hoarse accents from Clown
and Jack. '
The Indians were dragged down to the shore
of the lake, Rely retiring to the far side of the
camp to t beyond the ghastly sight. Her
thoughts w alternately to her mother in San
Antonio, and her brother on the Rio Grande.
She knew it Would kill her mother to know

and she knew her brother would rather die
than have her encounter them, for his sake;
butshe had gone too far, now,to turn back;
she hoped the dangers were passed, and was
thankful, oh, so thankful, that shehad escaped
death or captivity, for both had stared her in

e I the face.

As she looked back at the dangers of the last
few days, she thought that she could not hear
them over again and live, so tly had her

egg for the tw0
brave friends who accompanied er, she know-
in the misery that would follow the death of
eit .

Rely was called back to camp, by Jack, who,
although suffering greatly, seemed quite cheer-

ful.
“ Come, Rely; we’ve got the varmints miten
er sight, an’ new 1 re’con we’ll see to things.
ave yer t any kind 0’ salve, about yer med—
’cine, to ru on whar the reds tied me so tarsal
tight? My meat’s torn up, sum considel’ble.”
“Oh, yes, Jack; and I am sohappy Ican do
somethin for you, for my conscience troubles
me for «.5 the trials and dangers I have brought
upon you.
“ O , shacks, now, Rely; I told yer often,
that kind 0’ talk ware su’table to sling at them
what don’t care enufr fur their friends to carve

’em. Iwantnothanksfurwhatlduzfurpnm_

frien'dship’s sake, an’ no pay, either, without,
may be a leasant word, or smile, which you
always v for us. Them oes_fnrther with
'me an’ Clownthan do’bloons. Ha, Clown, ain’t

that so?” L .
just right there, Jack.
it duz me more sure
inted sculpers
y it warn’t fur bein’ so pesky afeard they’d git
oi! with you, I wouldnt mind such a
new but I can just tell yer both we’re

.i

the lace tharisinthersmte. Ihe’rd
them Reds lowin’ in that , and Innat—
stand sum; I ought tow, I‘v’ doin’eqmfl
w1th ’em. There bin a big war-party fifty

cum

 

miles the river; they 1i that, and
down “iii diflmnt 

 

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24

The WNew rYork Library.

 

gethcr ag’in, with plunder an’ prisoners. Now l

we hav’ run ag’in two squads of them; the
others ain’t fur off; two have gone toward
Mexico, aii’ these Reds here were waitin’ fur a
crowd of twent -five warriors to meet ’em right
here on this in 0; so the quicker we git up an’
dust outen this the better, an’ tew tow one We

‘ waters of their Rio ravo, one upon each side of ;

run ag‘in’ sum of them what‘s gone for Mexican :

plunder.”

“Great Father protect us! What shall we
do? If we return toward San Antonio would
we be liable to meet any of these fiends, Clown!”
inquired Rely.

Vol. I.

 

 

' i
” Remember our oath over the murdered 3

child, on the Resaca de la Palma,” said Kit.

No sooner had the words left his lips than the
lariats were suddenl jerked and the two ban—
dits swung out, dan 'ng and twisting, over the

the or ening torn by Wild Will and his horse, as
the dashed through and down to destruction.
'1 e lariats’ ends were made fast to the trunks

of the trees, and the cutthroats were left, swa - 1
‘ Fi hting Ben.”

ing in plain view of their countrymen, from t e

I opposite shore.

Val], yes; ree’on we’d stand as poor a show (

either way, but we‘ve got good mustangs—that
is, when we find ’em, an’ that must be soon—an’
can run for it. IVe’ve got to be more kcerful,
and not be so danged particular about cat'
dried-beef. J tick, do yer hear?”

“Thinks I duz; I ain’t deff‘ yet, but I’m as
ravenous fur grub that dried—beef or anything’ll
go good now, you bet. yer, Re y;
you’v’ done my ankles an’ wrists up so neat an
soft, I can’t feel much pain; I’ll only take a bite,
'ust tew kce my stuin-jacket frmn for 'tin’ its

iz, an’ we’ go fur the nags; the Re 3 didn’t
take ’em fur, an’ ther camp are just below whar
tha tied me up fur alligator bait. Rec’on I’d ’a’
been chawed up finer nor Ed. Braiden’s hash
afore this if mu hadn’t i’n that yell, Bali. I
thought the ds ware rturin’ yer, an’ u’st
myharness right thar, took ther bit atween my
teeth, an’ cum pony-express speed.”

“ I’m do -gonad glad,” said Clown, “ that

‘ the mad waters, which shall soon

Han there! vile varlets!” said Reckless Joe,
“until t e (lamps and dews and wandering
winds shall rot and twist the cords which new
sustain and hold you up, as an example to those
who dare invade our State!

“ Hang, I say, and idly dangle high above
be contamin-

ated with thy loathsome carcasses!
“Hang higher than Haman, thou base, de-

‘ graded sons of a semi-monthl , revolutionized,

con lomerated, amalgamated, tard republic!

‘ an i

“ IIOlifi Enough, Joe! They’ve done kick-
ing. Give ’em a rest,” interrupted Ben Thomp»
son.

Bi Foot heaved a heavy sigh as he remarked:

“ es, Ben, they’ve danced their last fandang,
on nothin’, without ary music; they’ve cut the r
last throat, stu’k the’r last man in t or back, an’

‘ burt the’r last ranch. I’m dog-goned sorry we
1 hav’n’t more on ’em, fur them two looks lon’sum;

ther’s room cnuf fur more on ’em all along ther

, river, an’ we’d ought’er stretch ’em clean down

everything ‘ cum out so squar’, but, as I re-
mar ed atore, we’ve got to h’ist ourselves outen ,
this a flyiii’. Rely, you don’t care tew stop

here alone, I ree’on, so let’s all go fur the new;
they can’t be fur from whar we left ’em. e

tew fort Brown. Joe, whar in thunder ware

1 yer edicated? Yer sling ther dang’est, biggest

1 words I ever knowed an

must change our course, an’ put up the river a ,

right smart distance, to get above the Rio 3
i tempt for the Mexicans in general, an the ban-

Grande trail, so as not tow meet any of the
Reds comin’ in frum that-a—way.”

Rer and Clown proceeded to look for the
horses, Jack following With his hands full of

one else tew let loose.
Elan ,yer make any thing out’en Joe’s lingo,
't?’

“Oh yes; Joe was only expressin his con—

‘ dits of Cortina. in particular.”

dried-beef and corn—pone, and his teeth doing ox- l

tra duty.

About fifty feet from where the horses had
been left they were found where the Indians
had removed them, and glad were our friends
to once more mount their well-tried prairie
friends that had served them so faithfully.

Every thing belonging to them was collected
by building a bright fire and they started on in
the darkness up the ueces river, to find a
place secure from observation, andgay from
he trail, so they could take the refillr
so much needed by them after the dship and
excitement they had passed.

 

CHAPTER XVI.
THE NEW TRAIL.

When tales are told of blood and fear,
That boys and women shrink to hear,
From point to point I frank! tell

The deed of death as it befe .
o v n- : u t it

By heaven his horse‘s footstool shakes!
Beneath their tott'ring bulk it bends—
It sways—it loosens—it descends!

And downward holds its headlong way, -
Crashing and throwing up the spra .
Loud thunders shake the echoing ell!
Fell it alone? Aloneit fell

Just on the ver verge of ate,

The " Daring" exan s falling wei ht;
He trusted to his mustangs boun s,
And on firm bank unharmed he stands!

Ir required but a moment to adjust the lariats

around the necks of the two bandits, who had
attempted the assassination of Kate Luby when
she was proceeding up the river on her errand of
mercy.
The ends of the lariats were drawn over the
limbs of the musquit trees, which projected over
the bank and beneath which were the rolling
waters of the river, one hundred feet below.

Kit Carson addressed them in Spanish, telling
them they had five minutes to prepare them-
selves for the other world, and take a. farewell
look at their country over the water. .

The wretched, degraded men, who hesitated
at no crime, however horrible, new trembled,
muttered their rayers, and then stood gazin
over the Rio rande, upon the shores whic
the were destined never more to tread.

ing no mercy in the looks of their ca tors,
they suddenlti assumed a bravado, which the
'vering of eir li gave the lie to, and yelled:

Vive Cortina!” “ arracas ericanas!’ “ Car-
racas Gmoonsi” The last word was uttered
with a genuine hatred and look of contem t
whic in spite of themselves the Rangers co d
not help but admire, 6 iii! y when considered
With the true loyalty y manifested for their
chief, even to. the death.

9 lariats slaokenpd, as if the Rangers hesi—
fated in their determination to execute the ban-

dits.
“Remember the whirlpool at fort Brown,
bog!” said Ben Thompson. .

“Flight! Ben” mentioned this incident,
which he d ribed to them previously, the
Meta again tightened, and the banditswero
dinning the. verge of the awful, abymtheir
eyes bulging out in terror.

and rest T

 

“I rcc’oned so, by ther way he looked an’
acted. Joe, I’ll be dog-goned if I won’t give yer
ther best saddle-nag Ive got on my ranch, if
you’ll set down sum day an’ l’arn me them
danged long words, so when I’m b’ilin’ mad, an’
can’ find no Greaser tew shoot, I can sling ’em
acrost ther Bravo at ’em, I s’pect, tho’, I’ll hav’
tew ile my 'aws right smartly afore I can spit
’em out. W hat yer thinkin’ on, Kit? ’Pears
like yer see a. petticoat over thar, by ther way
yer aze?”

“ see no sign of an female presence; my
thoughts run in other e annels. ’m thinkin
of how we have cleaned out the ‘Chaparra
Fox’ to-day and what benefit it will be to
Texas. Co ina is far from being whi ped.
This band of cutthroats is broken up, ut a
thousand more of his men stand ready to serve
him at any time against the hated Gringoes. In
less than a month, mark m words, Cortina. will
a 'n disgrace the soil of exas by his resence.
Ignis here, there, and everywhere; is spies
will keep him informed as to our movements,
and he will dash in when and where he is least

ex ted.

‘This has been a disastrous fight to him, but
it takes no capital or commissary to start an
am such as his command is composed of.

“ e Rangers from the north-west have but
recentl returned from ion and we trails,
which k them to the h -waters of t e Can-
adian river. In three months the Camanches,
A hes Kioways, Kicks. , and who knows
w t other red—devils, again be at their
blood work.

“ e rairies and cha of Texas have
been bat ed in gore, and he end is not yet; and
none can sa when it will be. Certainl not
until the United States government cuts 0 six
thousand miles of red—tape which the secretar
of wail—persists in hauling, hand over hand, bac
and to h, while the country is bein devastated
by hordes of Mexican outlaws, an war- ies
of blood-thirsty Indians—not until the said sec-
reta orders a. full cormlpany of cavalry to take
the p ace of the corpo s guard of infantry, in
near] every frontier fort.

“ o the devil with Uncle Samuel,” growled
Big Foot; “we can fl ht our own battles, as this
da stands proof. r hain’t been as many
miller-bellies clawed grass afore in one day,
since old Taylor giv’ em chain shot out’en his
big guns, an
“ Charley May mowed his way'

Frum alo Alto tow Monteray,

Au‘ our Jack Ba 5 did cut an’ blaze

Clean thru tow t er City of ther Montezum-aazz."

“Hear! hear!” Reckless Joe shouted.

“ By all that’s truthful in Denmark, Big Foot,
thou art a poet.

“ Whv hast thou wasted talents, on the desert
air? Why don’t yer go it! .

“Sling out yer slang what smacks of plains
and woods-

“ That’s Just ther style, now, what takes with
city bloods;

‘ Let ’em know you know infer own lingo
“ That yer can blow, right smart. 'th the
help of J 00-—

‘ That is, when I learn you them high-fa-lu-
tin, rigmbnnctious, ramifications of exalted En-

lish.
The laugh that followed Joc’s rhyming at-

 

tem ts was suddenly brought to a stop by the
cla r of boots, up the river, and an exclama-
tion of surprise from Fighting Ben.

“May I never see a square deal again, if that
isn’t my brother, Billie!

All of the Rangers who were just ready to
mount and rejom he main command, now

; turned their eyes and attention up the stream

toward the fast-a

roachin horseman, whom
all recognized as

aring Bill, the brother of

ashing down toward them. at times causing

I his horse to bound so near the bank of the river

that, as the hoofs of the animal spurned the
turf for the next spring, the earth upon which
the orse stood an instant before would be de-
tached and fall with a great splash down into
the stream—the bank above projecting over the
water-line below.

Riding with as wild, careless, and graceful a
manner as a Camanche brave, this oung man,
showing by his dare-devil 1e, y his near
approach to the edge of the angerous bank,
by the yell that burst from his lips as he saw the
Rangers, a perfect type of the young Texan,
who fears nothing, and lories in bravin
danger, no matter of what em or from wha
quarter.

Darintngill was fair, and pretty as a young
girl, W1 rosy cheeks, lon , black hair, sharp,
piercing eyes, that would be sure to detect
dalrsi fri'lnhtimetoact. th d8 d Ran

om nwas e n rofthe
Rio rande. page was alwa s manor?3 in such
nobby style and no amoun of scouting could
set him back any, or prevent his looking neat
and tidy. He was just as eager for a fight as
his brother Ben, and you often hear 8 of
the fighting Thompsons, no matter in w at por-
tion of the State of Texas you may be travel-

mg.

A cost] sombrero, trimmed with gold, 3.
golden e for a band, sat jauntil upon Bill’s
well-sha head: a. fancy embroi ered jacket

of buck ' and leggin of the same, to match,
glittering with the bu tons which ran thickly

own the seams, amid the long fringes; top-
boots, silver spurs, and red silk sash com .leted
his make-up in the way of clothing: win 9 the
ivory butts of two large-sized Colt’s revolvers
projected from the ornamental scabbards, and
a huge bowie-knife was stuck in the left side of
his belt. A Sb ’3 carbine hun from his
saddle-hem, and E6 bridle and sa die of his
horse were one mass of exquisite stamped
leather, and silver filagree-work.

The horse seemed created for the rider—a
beautiful mustang, black as midnight, and
graceful as a prairie fawn.

Take them, rider and horse together, they
were as fine a ‘ ht as one would Wish to see as
they came dash ng down the banks of the Rio
Grande, and into the midst of our Banger
friends.

Bill Thom n’s hands were extended, right
and left, to l, as he said:

“Howde, pards? Is the big game over! Am
I too late to take a hand? Howde, Bent Shake,
old boy!” 7

“Yer a little late, fur this deal, Bill; thar are
the last keerds what was slung out,” said Bi
Foot, pointing toward the swaying forms 0
the executed bandits. Yer don’t of’en et a
chance ter bet on a dead thing Bill, an’ giv’
yerone now. I’ll plank a slug that them lariats
11 hold ’em fur a week, afore they were 03 en’-

dro h ’erii in ther drink—barrin’ out a fust-class
no er.
“Take the bet! Hold stakes, Joe. Some of

us will manage to scout this way about that
time. Have you made a clean sweep of their
cam , boys?”

“ har ain’t cnuf! left, Bill, tew startaone-
boss-blanket game; but, what’s the news up-
river?” demanded Big Foot.

The Rangers were all mounted, surroundin
D ' Bi11,as ea r to hearnewsasBig Foo
was, yer they saw tsome ' of im rtance
had happened up the Rio Gran e, or B 1 would
not have ridden so des rately hard, as the con-
dition of himself and orse indicated.

“Big times, up the creek, boys; and if you
can be spared, you’re wanted, bad. war-
gty of about sixty Camanches have sacked

town of Guerrero, on the Mexican side, and
cleaned out Corralitas, on our side. They are
now encamped above Santa Juanita. They
have got John G. Moore and Clay Wells prison-
ers. Rec’on that interests you, Joe. They
have also ca tured a whole capoodle of pretty
Mexican gir s, which better be dead than go to
the life they are destined for, if we do not res-
cue them. I had a hard run through them—
caused a few to sing their death-songs—and

come on for help.” .

“You say that}: John Moore and Clay Wells
are risoners, Bi ; how’s that?” Joe asked.

“ Veil, Clay was in Corralitas, sick. John
had to leave him behind, when he went to Mon-
terey for stock; but, John has lost everything,
and without we get men enougtl:e to recapture
the spoils and prisoners, soon, fore they get
far 11 coun , ten to one, they don’t torture
the w to: to oath.” ‘

“By the blood 0’ Crockett, Joe,” said Big
Foot, “1 forgut tew tell yer, yer gall,

 

new“

we»

 

No. 3.

Wells—or Rely, as Clown and Jack H calls
her—ware run intew my ranch on t e San
Mi e1, by ther reds, store I cum down. We
a hot time on it fur a while, but cleaned
’em out at last, with the hele of my panther-cat.
The left the same mornin’ did, for Corrahtas,
tew see her brother, Clay, who she had he'rd war
sick. She told me tow sling a word tew you,
Joe, an’ have yer scout up the river toward
that-a-way- but I for t it till now. Rec’on
the reds will gobble up er tpm-ty, tow.” .
“What in the name 0 heaven is coming
next?” said Reckless Joe. “I can y
lieve that so much trouble should be heaped
upon my shoulders, at one time. It does not
seem possible. Excuse me, gentlemen; I can-
not doubt our words- but for God’s sake let us
hasten to 1d Rip an get relieved from duty
here, if ible. There is enough of the boys
who co (1 be spared, now to out the reds to
pieces. Come on boys! ime is more recious
than gold. Kit, Big Foot, Ben, Bill, P ' —?-’you
all are in with me on this trail, are ou not
“Yes, Joe! You bet. Every ime!” came
from his fellow Rangers, as all spurred on after
Joe, whose countenance showed a terrible anxi-

et .

’l‘hey left the scene of the execution and gal-
loped back to the battle-field; thence on the
trail of the Rangers to the opening, further
south, that had been chosen for the new camp

and station.

The Ra ers killed in the battle had just been
consigned their last home, in mother earth.
The wounded were do' well, under the kind
care and attention of to Luby. A scout
from San Antonio had arrived, brifing dis-
patches to Col. Ford from Gov. Ho 11, just

revious to the arrival of Joe and his party from

e scene of execution, to the effect that, as
soon asa decisive battle had been fo ht, and
the bandits driven to their Own side 0 the Rio
Grande, such anumber of the Ran era as the
colonel in his ju ent could spare, s ould be al-
lowed one month s leave of a , as man of
them had but just returned from the
war, when the volunteered in the Rio Grande
serviilcie, and not been given time to seetheir

es.

It was just as Col. Ford had finished perusing
these dispatches, Joe and his comrades rode up
to Old Rig Ford, and Kit, as spokesman of the
squad, ad ressed the colonel:

“ Colonel Ford, we, Rangers of the Rio Grande,
under your orders, give you greeting, and wish
to sa that we have, to the best of our ability
serve the State in breaking up the horde o
bandits, commanded by the Scour e of the Bra-
vo, and that we hold on, our co onel, as does
every citizen of the ne Star State, in the
highest esteem. We are before you this night
to ask a favor, which we think you cannot re-
mgeRtgc t3 b th t

‘ ess oe,our r0 erRanger,isingrea
trouble. One he loves better than his life is in
immediate danger, and two of his friends are
captives to a war-part of Indians, who are en-
cam above Santa uanita.

“ hey have a large amount of stock, stolen
from both fiidegnog the layer, and! also femgle

risone w o ough e are exicans, e-
Biand argour hands  release, for no
American can say but what he was alwa s kind-
ly and well-treated by the senoras, an senori-
tas of our so-called sister Republic.

“We would ask you to allow us tocall forvol-
unteers enough from among our friends here, to
make twenty-five fightings men, to start at day-
?realtr aftfi; the red de ' to: ovgrtifike them be-

ore y vean opportuni o -treatingor
torturing the prisoners. y

“Our fell0w-Ranger Dang Bill, who has
been up the river on duty, has just come
down with the news, will give ou the particu-
lars when he has had a rest, an broken ' long

ast.

Col. Ford glanced admirin 1 around the cir-
cle of his favorite scouts, an t on answered:

“Gentlem Rang}:- defenders of the fron-
tiers of our e State! It makes me

mud to look u n your eager faces—you, who

ve gust throu h one of the hardest and
most 1 y day’s so you will perhaps ever
called u . to undergo, but now are ready
for a long with another big fight on the
end of it. I have the authority in my hands

from Governor Houstoni’to ve you leave of ab1
sence for thirt days, ut, now order you to
roceed imm late y, calling for enough volun-

rs to make u the number twent -five, and
more if you ' ,and do your to catch
these daring devils, and don‘t lct_a single red
cuss get away with his scalp. Dispose of the

.plunder as usual, equally among yOurselves,

except that which you can return to the origi-
owners, and send the Mexican women back
to their homes safely, under escort, allowmg
them as many animals as they wish from the
number captured on the Mexican side of the
river. I need not tell you to treat them kindly,
I know you will. When you have done mu:
W011i, and swept from the earth these red ps
0‘ 3815941, Your furlough commences, and you
an ‘11 E0 to SanAntonio. Ishall point my
trail that way m If inside of three weeks.
“I shall stat on the three companies, in

S

 

Kit Oarson, J r., the Crack‘Shot of the West.

25

 

squads, down the river, so they can easily and l Around the western curve of the horse-shoe-
quickl get together, in case Cortina, With any -, bend, cree ing silently ’as snakes beneath the

large orce, crosses the river.

“ It will take some time afore the danged cha-
parral fox can get a crowd together, and then
we will be ready for him, boys, and give him
all he can stand ag’in’.

“Joe Booth, take charge of one-half of this
scouting party, and Kit Carson, J r., you take
the others. ou’ve ot an open, plain trail
ahead, an’ see if yer o as well at the end on’t,
as yer did this mornin. I hope I shall have the
pleasure of shakin’ yer fists, all on yer, in ther
Alamo city.” _

As soon as Col. Ford had ceased speaking, the
Rangers burst out in three rousing cheers, and
ended ofl’ with the Texas yell.

As the loud yells of the Rangers ceased, Kate ‘
from under the bower of branch- ,

Lub step
es w ‘ch 3 eltered the wounded, and stood won-
dering at the commotion. . _

The sight of a lovely woman, standm .11.). the
light of the camp-fire, which gave an ad itional
charm and cast a halo about her form that made
her look angelic.

The sight of this woman, who they all knew
was watching over and ministering to the com-
fort of their wounded comrades, sent an electric
thrill through the whole Ran er force, and the
chagrals rung a .iin with wil , heartfelt cheers
for to Luby! t e Queen of the Rio Grande.

 

CHAPTER XVII.
STRIKE TILL THE LAST ARMED ma nxriiuns.

I heard the lance‘s shivering crash
As when the whirlwind rend the ash;
And through the wood the i fies rang
Like to a hundred anvils' c‘lang.

o a

At once there rose so wild a yell
Within that dark and narrow dell,
As all the fiends. from heaven that fell
Pad pe'aled the banner cry.of hell.

‘

What groans shall far-off valle fill!
What shrieks of grief shall ran the hill!
What tears of burning rage fall fast,
When moansfhy tripe hermbamtlesr lost. .

a

When lovers meet in danger‘s hour
"I‘is like a sun-glimpse through a shower.

OUR next scene opens fifty miles above fort
Ewell, on the Nueces river, in a horse-shoe
bend of the stream, of about five acres in ex-
tent—the most of which is an opening covered
with tall, rich and bordered by arge pe-
can trees. It is as wild and secluded a as
there is on the continent, and unfrequen , ex-
cept by occasional herds of mustang, who cen-
ter down to drink from the rairies yond

But, the time to which now allude is one
week afterwe left our Ran r friends on the
Rio,Grande, and Clown, Jae and Miss Wells,
or Rely, on the Nueces river, seeking a rest-
ing- lace after their rough experiences from the
hang of Creeping Panther. ,

This 0 ning and bend of the river were now
ogsctupi by atlcarge wagginy 31f Calamanches,
' re return eir 'stan vfllages'
gin till; bgarldlgrgs of the Llano Estacado.

The Indians had'been more than usually suc-
cessful, in cafituring plunder and risoners, and
were alsowe informed as to the Rangers '
engaged on the Rio Grande in fighting Cortina,
an elt themselves perfectly secure from mo—
lestation. Hundreds of horses and mules 
the opening, just driven in from the prairies
“like nightsres' b ' b' htl th bo d

ecamp- urning rig yon e rer
of the opening beneath the trees, showed polain-
ly how secure the Indians felt themselves be.

Before we enter and inspect the Indian camp,
let us glance through the ark shades of the pe-
can trees which border the river to the east and
west of the camp of the red-skins.

To the east, some two hundred yards from
the fires of the Indians, and directly under the
bank of the river effectually concealed, by the
thick foliage gdd  twiligh artga oren
Rangers,sea onteir orses y charge
into the midst of their hated fo’es.

Every thing has been considered in regard to
approaching and attacking the Indians before
the fingers had arrived near them, by men
Well to prairie warfare. They know if they
charge into the camp the Indians will immedi-
ately murder the prisoners in cold blood; hence
the silent movements and division of the Ran-

gers.

The deadly Colt’s revolvers are firml held in
the right hands, the bridle-rein in the eft, and
every sense is on the alert and ready to act.

Kit Carson, Jr. , whose sharp roving eyes seem
to pierce the foliage and dark shadows, bends
forward as he listens for the expected signal
from Reckless Joe on the opposite side of the
Indian encam ment.

Behind, an near to Kit is his shadow, Mike
O’Keefe who holds, with a firm grip, a cavalry
saber w ch he has traded for at the fort on the
Rio Grande. His face shows great eagerness,

 

' and his eyes try to pierce the obstructions to his

view, so he can see what kind of “ divils ” he
lIinazto contend with now, as he has never seen an
inn.

 

L
l

under-hr are the rest of the Rangers under
“Reckless Joe,” who is most interested in the
welfare of the prisoners held by the Camanches.
They have left their horses behind, secreted in
a thicket.

Among these Texans who are stealing so slow

‘ and silent toward the point of the Indian camp

themselves looking upward, an e

 

where the prisoners are bound, are some of the
most noted scouts and Rangers of the south-
west—Bi Foot Wallace, Tom Clark, Jack Ran-

som ' Cole, Jim Beari‘ield, Fighting Ben and
his brother Daring Bill—all e r to do all in
their power to rescue the cod wife of

Reckless Joe and the other prisoners from hor—
rible protracted deaths by torture, and the fe-
males from a degrading slavery, ten thousand
times worse than death.

At intervals they stop;l and la silent and
prone Upon the earth, w 'le Big ootstealson
some careless sentinel, and with his right hand
graslping the Indians neck with an iron grip,

he eftdriveshis bowietothehiltintheheart
of the red-skin, and then they move on again.

No Indian has a chance to yell, or creates
commotion after the Giant of the Border once
gets his hands upon him.

Ivéat us now lernter 1the Indian' gamp. m

epasst oug grou o savages— eir
features rendered more hideous than natin'e
formed them by the war-paint which besmears
them, in some instances down to the waist belt.

They are en aged in cooking fish and mule-
steaks before t e coals.

You hear no noise or confusion; it would not
seem to you pessible that so many humans could
be con Wu” and keep so silent. An
occasio gu grunt, now and then a mon-
os liable in the Camanche ton e, the neigh of
a . orseor squeal of amule, is that breaksthe

ess.
the camp; we come tea

 

We on
fire w ere several chiefs are seated,
their pipes. The brilliant-hued feathers 
in their long hair show their rank, but we mere-
ly give them a glance, as something attracts our
e es in their rear which interests us more than

this savage ' lay.

Within the bar er of light, thrown out by the
fire, we observe that a captive is bound to each
tree; and amonglthem we recogmze‘ our friends
Rel , Jack, and own,who are again in the hands
of e enemy; and the pale, emaciated youth,
and fine-formed, noble—look' man, bound near
them, we know must be Re gs brother, Clay,
and her brother-in-law, John . Moore.

A deathley pallor and despairing look is on the
faceofR yasshegezeson the formofher
brother, who seems more dead than alive.

Jack and Clown show signs of t suflering,
butstillitisplaintobeseen twerethey
free, with arms in their hands, they would do
some damage yet to those they look upon with
such intense hatred.

M0“- “ch digits-mi “gimg’i‘i. *3“ $2323
exican gir ir ea s own,

b their long, luxuriant hair, wh¥ch falls below
eir waists.

We stand horror-struck to realize that our
friends we have felt such an interest in, and
who have had so many dangers beset their path
are againinthepower of the red torturersof
the plains; but, as we contemplate their wasted
and worn features and frames, a fish of agony
strikes our ears from toward the .

From whence fcomte‘i; that:1 heavy groan, which
speaks plain] 0 un are e excruciating pain,
gidlsends a;  of horror through the heart of

e earer

It comes from near the fire of the chiefs. V We
see no risoner bound near them, and wonder
from w ence comes the groan

It comes again, and guides our eyes above the '

of the chiefs, who we now notice are
tifled hatred d brutali  Of

gra , revenge an

upon their faces. ‘ y pad

Our eyes turn up to the foliage above the
heads of the Indians, and, oh horror of horrors!
what a sight meets our view!

Two saplin 5 about twent feet apart have
been trimm of their branches, the tops bent
over by the combined strength of several war-
riors, and a human—a white man—a Texan—is

nded between them by the wrists, the bent
satg drawing so strongly a from each
0 erthat the arms of the su erer aredrawn
straight and seem tearing from the body.

Weseethemanbeingsotortured isastrong
hardy ranchero, and wonder, knowing the In-
dian custom of treating prisoners, that he is not
reserved until they arrive at their ' but
the bullet mark in the thigh, from whence issues
a stream of blood, and the  the limb,
show the man has been shot, and a broken
leg—and that is the reason they are torturing
him on the trail, as they can convey him no

are no satisfied with the awful
heissufferingwith his wound, and m
worse than crucifixion, for one of the braves
near the fire snatches a massof fat meat, hhsing
‘from the embers, and hurls it directly uponflio
bare breast of the poor, suffering prisoner.

i

a “new "1.“

.« floaepsssiswn fi'loiu“ r

 

u .2
. a,” .7‘..vr

are;

 

26

' The w1.\l:emeork Library.

 

 

 

His form writhes, his flesh becomes a more
gitly hue, and the blood bursts forth afresh

m the wmmd in the leg; his ‘stren h and life
are fast leaving him- they can get ut a low
dee moanfromhisll ; randsofflreareheld
tot e bottoms of his are feet, but he has not
the strength to draw them up to avoid the
dreaded torture; his e e-balls roll up under the
lids; his teeth are c enched and grinding in
agony. Another brave, knife in hand, reaches
up and—we can write no more.

Asudden asm follows this fiendish act; a
drawing toge her of the limbs and bod , a deep
groan of mortal ny; then limbs an muscles
relax; the head alls forward, and We know,
and thank God, the ranchero is out of his
misery.

All this is in lain view of the other risoners,
to 've them a oretaste of their own ate.

he last can of the tortured Texan was
echoed 3 t ose bound to the trees, which so
madden one of the chiefs that he sprung to-
ward them with flashing 0 es. He stopped o -
posite Clown, gathered a ock of the captives
air twisted it around his fingers and 'erked it
by the roots from the scalp tearing t e same
badly, and causing the blood to flow in streams
down his face and neck, but not a murmur came
from the set teeth. The Indian ses to Jack,
who knows this is no time to ta or show feel-
ing. A stunning blow upon the head of Jack
rendering him senseless, and the chief stalks on

to the e sick Clay Wells whose head is
droo with weakness. The Indian knows the
feeb e will never live to reach the distant

villages 0 his tribe to serve for a scene of tor-
ture, and cares not how soon he dies. His war-
club is raised in the air, and descends upon the
head of poor Clay; the blow is partly broken by
the end of the war-club coming in contact wit
the tree, but it is sufficiently severe to o n the
scalp, bare the skull, and send spurts 0 blood
over the other prisoners.

John Moore writhes and twists with his bonds
{in vain, to free himself and save the boy from

ea

The war-club of the chief had no sooner clov—
en the air than Rely gave a piercing scream,
that echoed and re-echoed through the now dark
woods and caused Kit Carson and his men, so
impa entlly avvaitin the signal to writhe in
their sadd es, and K t could ardly restrain the
Rangers from immediately charging into the
Indian camp.

Was Belya witch, that her voice could con-
iEre up from earth, and bush, and from behind

e scrag trunks of trees human forms, clad
in the buc -skin of the loved Ran r corps?

One, oh so loved, so familiar to or eyes, dart-
ed  her; his rifle-barrel glanced in the fire-
ligh asit swunfiwith terrible force, and crashed
the skull of the ndian chief who had struck her
‘ brother Clay; the next moment her hands were

cut, and she was encircled b the left arm of
‘Reckless Jae, while. his rig held his trusty
Colt, and from his lips rung the wild Texas
m, a signal to his friends awaiti it so im -
tly in the wood, the other side 0 the Ind

cam .

Other hands were at work while Joe attended
to his loved Martha. '

Knives lanced and flashed around the trees;
prisoners ell prone to the earth astheir bonds
were out, being unable to‘stand from being so
lon cramped in one position.’

Big Foot slashed t e bonds of John Moore,
and 1put a pistol in his hands, sa :

“ ub yer J’ints, man, an ; this are a
fre’eflght an no favors ask .”

Inlesstimethan it takestowriteit the Ran-

rs are pressing on the Indians, hand to hand,
fie revolvers droppin the latter thick and fast
the former barrin t a way so the reds could
not reach their rrgoners, amoxgxhom they had
fired a volley o arrows at the alarm.

Now came the crisis. The Bangle on foot
werehard pressed, five to one and ng backed
againtoward the prisoners. John Moore, Clown
and Jack, although the latter was wounded,
mm the fight as soon as the¥ could use

eir ' be, with wild yells. Big oot, Tom,
Bill, Ben Jim, Joe, and all, were fighting like
demons, but hardly able to hold their ground

i’ilguch odds hwhenha sight gursttopl thfiir
east tgave em ope,an pu oue
sgength into their arms.

On, like an avalanche: came the mounted Ran—
gers onthe Indians’ rear, drivin them into one
min led mass, Kit riding over em and crush-
inflglx to the earth beneath  horse’s heels,
a shooter in each hand uttering wilder yells
than any brave on the field, and u ‘ng on his
boys, who, in the same style, left dea h at every
bound of their horses.

Mike, at Kit’s side, with his wild “Hm-roe, for
Texas! an’ ould Erin bragh! down wid the
red divels!” his saber g ttering, cutting the air,
and sinking all about and around him, dripping
with gore and causing as much fear and ' -
ing byhis long knife and wild aspect, as any
man in the lit—in f performing prodi es
of valor, winnin or himself, from t
do. the name (if ‘;h ng Mike. ” ed

animals n e opening were sumped
Ems! atthe start,to prevent the escapeof

he was en

 

V01: .1:

 

The hottest of the fight was near the prison-
ers, where the Indians, back to back, fought
those mounted on one side, and those on foot

, by the prisoners on the other.

Eve man among the Ra rs was a host in
himsel , and the carnage was earful.

It was a scene never to be forgotten by those
who were present. The thunder of thousands
of hoofs, as the Indian horses were stampedcd,
the sharp reports and volleys of the revolvers,
the zip of bullets, whiz of arrows and lances,
humming of tomahawks, whoops, howls, dying
and victorious yells, the shrill scream of wound-
ed and maddened mustangs, and death-chants
of the dying braves; the smoke of battle and
taint of blood 11 n the air—all combined-to
make up a horri 1e confusion, from which the
Rangers emerged with the prisoners, and col-
lected together near the river-bank some eighty
yards from the main camp-fire of the chiefs!

Big Foot stalked up and down, panting with

exertion, his clothing cut, torn and bloody, as l

were all who had been dismounted.

Joe, Martha Wells and John Moore were
bending over the still senseless form of Clay,
Rely weeping bitter tears of anguish at the
sight of the death-like countenance of her
brother, but givi a smile of love through her
tears, as Joe woul offer her Words of encour-
agement.

A short distance from Joe was a strange sight
for such a time and lace. Kit Carson, r., sat
upona limb of dea< wood with a dozen beauti-
ful senoritas reclining upon the ground at his
feet, all displayingin their faces leasure and
admiration, as they gazed at an listened to
their mother tongue, as it dropped in words of
pleasant flattery and encouragement from the
ips of the daring, dashing American they had
seen mowing his way through the red demons
toward them. It was very evident to an ob-
server that any one of them would have been
overj yed at being captured by such an enemy
as Kit, and that one in particu ar had made up
her mind to stick by his side and claim his pro-
tection rather than return to Mexico.

It was durin Kit’s conversation with the
senoritas that ike came tow him, having
made a tour of the battlefield. He was clean-
ing the blood from his saber with a wisp of
grasskas he neared the group, but his eyes only
saw

it.

“ Arrah, spake to yer Mike, Misther Kit;
only wun word fur he 'nder marcy 0’ God, to
let me know I’m still in Texas, an’ not in the in-
fernal rag’ons, as things around betokens.”

“ Do on call this an infernal sight? I call it
heaven y, Mike, for the angels are not wanting.”

Mike’s eyes wandered about the circle of Mex-
ican girls, who were smiling, as th whispered
to each other that Mike was “un rlandesa y
un Cristiano,’ (an Irishman and a Christian.)

Mike's sombrero came of! instanter, as he
bowed and scraped before the laughing rls,
who, but-an hour before, were ere th a
fearful life before them; but I p ‘ them
as they are, and truth is stranger than fiction.
You can see a Mexican woman one moment a
gaging tigrem, the next as loving as a cooing

ove. 4

With a smile covering his face, like the sun-
shine on the side of abam, Mike shook the prof-
fered hands of the beautiful captives, but, as
in this verpr pastm‘ ,
he was biBIg Foot, to sip drive in the
stampeded stoc .

The next morning affecthe fight all started
down the river, after bu 'ing the tortured
ranchero and two Rangers w 0 were killed. It
was found that but few of the Indians escaped.
The wounded were taken by slow, short marches
to fort Ewell. Here a wagon was found read
to convey them to San Antonio, and all han
proceeded toward the Alamo Cit , but with
slow ees, on account of the sic , and those
in'ured in the fight.

aek Hodge received a isoned arrow in the
side; Reckless Joeoneint e le . Their wounds
were bound with moistened to 00 at first, or
they would have proved fatal. Clay Wells was
too feeble to ride, and he had a wild, insane
look, which was not favorable to his speedy re-
covery. With the exceptions of the worry on
account of Clay and Joe’s wound, Rely, or as
we must now call her, Miss Wells was perfectly
he py, and she had continually heguged of Joe
not) to return to the Rio Grande, t had not
been able to t him to promise her this favor,
as it was his uty to serve out his term of six
months, if the company were not disbanded.

But we will leave our brave detachment of
Rangers to their travels, and meet them in the
Alamo City.

 

CHAPTER XVIII.
MARRIAGE BELLS m sums.

The gallant bridegroom by her side,

Bebe (1 his prize with victor's pride,

And the glad mother in her ear

Was closely whisper?“ wo’rds of‘cheer.‘
Q

t

Banned he stood histamine 21:31:32!
flagging, e s 0v e,

that he saw cit-rung tear '

Spoke woe he might. not stop to cheer.

“ I may not, dare not, fancy now
The grief that clouds thy lovely brow,
I dare not think upon thy vow,
And all it promised me.

‘ A time will come with feeling fraught!
For, if I fall in battle fought,
Thy hapless husband‘s dying thought
Shall be a t ought on thee.

“And if, returnin from conquered foes,
How blithel wi l the evening close,
How sweet he linnet sing repose

To Martha and to incl“

ONCE more our story calls us to the Alamo
City—once more to the cottage of the widow
We ls, near the little old Methodist Church.

Three weeks have elapsed since we left the

Rangers with their wounded—~the rescued cap—
tives, who had so narrow] escaped death by
torture—the females, who ad been saved from
a fate so horrible that no one exce )t those who
1 know the cruelties practiced by t e red fiends,
personal] , by actual observation, can conceivo
l of—and t e large herds of horses and mules 'ust
1 started on their way to San Antonio from ext
4 Ewell, on the Nueces river.
‘ We will not tax the patience of our readers
l Egrelating in detail the oft repeated, same old
; ry—love scenes between our friend Reckless
l Joe and Miss Martha Wells, who had been per-
l suaded, not much against her will, to consent
1 to a marriage with her Ranger lover before he
returned to the Rio Grande.

Col. Ford and Kate Duby, who had consented
to visit the Alamo City, were to be present at
the ceremon , as were also the Rangers who
were in the ueces fight.

The Mexican girls, some of them having rela—
tives in San Antonio, had referred coming on
to that city to await the re urn of the Rangers
to the Bravo, rather than go with the small
escort that could be spared them at the Nueces.

e over, also, the joyous though sad
meeting between Mrs. Wells, her dau hter, and
sick son Clay; over the raptures of t e wife of
John G. Moore, who once more clasped in her
arms one she had mourned as dead; and the
welcome the Ran rs received from the citizens
' of San Antonio, t e cheers that greeted them as
they marched throu h streets and plazas with
the plunder of the an camp, and rescued
captives. We deal more with stem facts con-
nected with frontier life than street or domestic
scenes; but the last and most pleasant event
connected with our story, although it is within
the confines of civilization, must be described,
as it concerns those we have followed through
dark and bloody ex riences.

As we walk up he street to the Methodist
Church, We observe a score of horses are tied to
the fences adjoining the church and dwelling of

 

Mrs. Wells.
The Sharple’s carbines han ° g from the Bad-
dle-horns—t e blankets rolle up and secured

On the cantles Of the saddles—canteens, tin cups,
etc, show us that these animals belong to our
Ranger friends.

As we come nearer we‘see the Rangers re—
clinin in and about the yard of the cottage,
atti alittle more neatly rha , but still in
the icturcsque costume of he R o Grands.

0 doors of the church are open and we
have not long to wait before we observe the
wedding 1procession start from the cottage to
the chum .

Col. Ford, with Mrs. Wells and Kate Lu ,
take the lead, and Reckless Joe, with the bri e,
follows. They do not care for etiquette. A
score of the mates of Martha Wells, young lady
friends and acgluaintances amongI which isher
sister, Mary W ls, follow behind 0e and Rely.

Kit Carson, Jr., with the beautiful Mexican
captive Celestie, clinging closely to the sleeve
of his buckskin jacket, come next; then folldw
twelve senoritas clothed in white muslin, each
leaning upon the arm of one of our Ran r
friends, and all seemin ly hap , as they ougt
to be, at having esca from r red ca tors.

Among those escorting the Mexican gir are
Fighting Ben and Darin Bill, the two brothers;
also Tom Clark, Phil 1e, Jim Ransom, Jack
Hodgebpale from his recent wound, and Clown.

Big oot Wallace strides on alone, enters the
church, seats himself 11 n the sill of an open
window, throwing one eg outside, as it comes
more natural to him to straddle something, and
nervously awaits the time “fur ther preacher
tew sling his hitchin’ words, an’ make Joe and
Bell? pards fur life.”

ike sits upon the sward outside, rubbing his
saber with a piece of buckskin, mutter-in to
himself. “ Well, it’s soon we’ll be wadiu’ t r’u’
blud ag‘in, an’ I’m danged of I don’t think I’ll
stick to Kit an’ the colonel as long as I’v’ a hair
upon me he’d. Sure it’s slushins 0’ money an’
land I’ll git of I stays wid ’em.” . ,

 

The solemn service is over; Joe G. Booth and
Mrs, Martha Booth receive the congratulations
of their friends.

The sombreros of the Rangers are whirled
over their heads, and wild hurrahs resound in

the little church.

The “ shake” with the colonel, Mrs.
Wells, KateLuby, Joe, Martha and the preach-
er, until the latter is forced to beetsretreat,

 

l

“"

My

lilo. 3.

An Old-Fashioned Mississippi Duel.

2'7

 

and works his way through the crowd toward
the door. .

His course leads him past Big Boot, who, see-
ing him apgroach, leaps from his perch in the
Window to t e ground ouiude muttering:

“This are the fust time I ever war into a
Christian factory, an’ ther highest I ever war
tow a reg’ler genwine gospel-slinger. It’s tew
danged stilt an’ clost here; rec’on I’ll pitch fur
ther ranch an’ see my cat. I can sling myself
round loose thar, without hurtin’ anybody’s
’pin‘ons or feelin’s,” and Big Foot s u n
his black mustang, ave a farewe ye t at
drowned the conf noise in the church, and
10 toward the Plaza.

ugh in a pearance, rough in his manners
and speech, W o knows but what his thoughts,
if he could express them in_ good language,
would have run as smooth as his who said:

“Bear me, some God, oh, quickly hear me hence,
To wholesome solitude, the nurse of sense,

“here contemplation proves her ruined wings,
And the tree soul looks down on kings.“

A bountiful repast was s read beneath the
trees in the gardens of Mrs. ells, and all went
merry as a marriage party should; after which
the adjourned to the cottage for music.

The windows being 0 n,_ the Rangers could
hear as they smoked their Ciglarettes.

Mrs. Martha Booth seated erself at the piano
at the request of Col. Ford, who also called
upon Kate Lub for a song.

Kate was no one of that kind of ladies who
always have a cold, and if she had been, it was
in the wrong climate to bring forward such an
excuse.

. Kate was always happy to please her friends
In any we in her wer.

She ed on Booth for the music of
the “ Song of the Texan Ranger,” and in a voice
which brought all the Rangers to their feet from
the lawn outside, and calmed them to crowd the
wmdows, she sung:

“ Dashing o'er the prairies, free from toil and care,
Scouting through t e chaparrals, camping here and

ere
Mounted o'n mustangs as fleet as ever Camanche

n e,
Rifle always ready and revolver by our side.
cnosus:

“ Then mount my boys, and away!
The trail is broad and clear,
And when you see the Reds,
Just at them with a cheer!
at s a t s a t s s
“ The Alamo we have not forgot, and Texans never

will-
And the 'Balllidits they shall bear it mingled with
our ye ,
And the Bandits they shall bear it mingled with our
yell—our yell—our yell! (01101140.)
“ Free and fearless, over plain and wood we roam;
Where night overtakes us, there we make our home;
By the at t‘l smooth green bank, or the can-

cn‘s bed1 ,
Fromythe 8330': c spartan, away far to the Red.
(Chorus)

“ Now by Reds we‘re surrounded, waredes an the

a r
Arrows dart

‘round us. hands in paint and hair;
Lances glist‘ in the sun, the Texans' yells re-
scund°
Warriors

’ .

we their dying whoa the mustang his
last guild. p, (OWL)
“ And new on the Mexican border we dash for Cor-

tina‘s band.
And drive the thieving bandits into the Rio Grande;
They are glasping now in the water and dying on
e ore *

S , ~
While ‘Bememberthe Almc’ isheard ‘bove hattle's

roar
While 'Bemember the Alamo‘ is heard ’bove battle‘s
roar—the roar-the roar—the roar—:the roar!“

Loud vitae rent the air‘ouflde as Kate fln—
ished this dashing song, so approprhtely chosen
for the listeners. ,

“ Who writ that son i” asked Tom Clark.

“ My pard, Little ank,” answered Reckless
J

oe.

“ I the ht thatware his style 0’ slingin’ Eng-
liah,” 

“I think the music is’perfectly splendid,”
added Kate. “ You can hear the horselesgallop-
ing in the refrain. composer m have
beeifii’yery talented man—a star in the music
wor . '

“ You bet, he’s awhile man,” mid Kit. “ He‘s
worth five hundred and sixteen common men—
a regular Washington stem of a gent. My
uncle Kit run in’ him in 21, ’way down
in Yankee land. ~

“Kit,” said Colonel Ford,"‘yl$1 can sin ,I
know; so give us something in t line. {on
lock .happy enough to sing, with your Spanish
Dictionary under our arm.”

“ Don’t call this ady out of her name. colonel.
Allow me to introduce an to Celestieflarcia;
I call her Bonita, our Rio G-rande pet name.
She was to be the w of Jumping Bear, had
not that warrior en a sudden jump into the

hunting-grounds.”

el Ford and Kate Luby were soon con-
versingwith the Mexican girl inher own tongue,
but Joe interrupted them b askingif Celestie
waildnotpreflvnailduponxit sing. Thelatter

“5‘38? ea;me Ian makeahmgein

 

that direction,” and in  prompt, nervous
style, without any preliminary remarks, he
launched out, with a languishing look toward
Celestie:
“You are lovely as the prairie flowers,
That all around you bloom-
Your step is ace u! as the fawn’s,
Your breat is sweet perfume;
, Your e es are dark as midnight,
But ull of love they glow,
Mount your mustang, and fly with me;
Bonita, don‘t say no!
cnoaus:
“ 1‘11 range no more the cha. arrals;
Or the plains 'gainst In iau foe;
Tear off m spurs with tinkling bells;
Bonita, on t say no!

“ Your life shall be a happy dream,
1‘]! be your humble slave,
Don’t look distnistfully at me,
Believe me I’m no knave;
We met beneath the flash of lights,
In the gay fandango,
I loved you then, I love you now;

Bonita, don‘t say no! (OhmusJ

“ My Texan cabin is of logs,
And stands by flowing stream,
Shaded from the burning sun
By branches ever green;
Mustangs in plenty you shall ride
Where‘er you choose to go,—
Come, kiss me, senorita, fair,— .

Bonita, don‘t say no! (Charms)

“ The sweet scents from magnolias
Shall hover in the air,
Mocking-birds' songs, and rippling stream,
Shall drive away all care-
Then fly with me from the hi0 Grande;
To in Texan home we'll go,
Or my cart will break, my darling—
Bonita, don‘t say no!” (Chorus)
A deafening round of ap )lause greeted Kit as
the son ended, and the dies complimented
him hig y.
“ hat’s another of Little Yank’s songs,” said
Tom. “He can be hard one da and soft ther
next; dang’est cuss I ever seen.’

But we will not linger 10 with the wed-

calxiliagEu-ty. Suffice to so. that all were happy
at it broke up at a te hour.

A barbecue was given to the Rangers by the
citizens of San Antonio, the same week that
Reckless Joe swore: “ Byall the of ancient
Greece, he’d stand before the wor (1 against the
world, with ready heart and hand, to combat
all the ills and smooth the pathway of his Texan
bride, Rely. ’.’

But, he had not long to linger by her side.
0010131 5101‘deme Ra rs were 11:00}! on their
we 9 o rande, rtma
invadedy the State. W W

Col. John Ford (Old RipeFord) isnow—at this
writing—a member of t Texas '
and canbe seen an on the avenue w
from hiséioteltto t:3BetateThHouse, aliad‘l tin to
one on 0110 mac n ompson ' ting
Bani): or Billie Thompson (Daring Bill) fin the
sameavenue.

Clown you will meet in San Antonio; every-

hnows him by that name, and he is proba-
bly , man on the continent who can so
he whip and drove oi! fifteen: Indians, 
mg eleven of them sing‘lg-blhanded.
ack Hodge died at to Sulphur Springs,
Arkansas, in consequence of the poisoned ar-
row wound received m the N ueces river tight.

Joe G. Booth (Reckless Joe) does business in

Dallas, Texas, but lives in Terrell, an adjoining

 

’

town, where, if on choose to to his cottage,
you will be w treated b Booth—none
other but curfriend Wells, or Rely;

gigalittlelleckfigoe will shpw ycfiiohowto
a mustang, wo oung airy' 1 will
gather wild flowu's from’the prairies for you.

Tom _ was killed in the public market in
San Antonio shortl . after returning from the
Rio Grande b two desperatioes, but both were
shotthro, heart after Tom had received
his mo stab. He died with his hands in
mine, and as. I closed his eyes I knew that one
ofmybestfriendsonearthwasdead.

Jim Ransom is in New Mexico. Jim Bear-
fleld ranches it on-the Medina river.

Big Foot Wallace meanders about up and
down the Nuecesh or San Miguel, catching a
mustang, or knocking a deer over, as he chooses;
Ritlllilis cat died from themwounds received in

e diansm'pnse-party, erebeingnooneto
takepro rcareof herwhenBichotwent to
“2:23 If?” “‘1'; Co cums,

' u y is now us ' teach'
and music to T?xan girls, andta‘klg
great pride in her three sons, who are posted in
all rairie knowled .
ohn G. Moore hves in Terrell, Texas, and
owns thousands of acres of land, and more stock
than he can estimate.

Gen. Juan N. Cortina, once the bandit chief,
accepted the cross of the Legion of Honor,
through Emperor ‘ , from Napoleon
III, and afterward turned over his numerous
forces to Juarez. In his pretended subminion
to the French, he escaped the Scylla of Gen.
Mejia’s Legion, by which he was hemmed in in
Matamoras, and the Charybdis of the many
“Grmgoes ’ or Americanswhowere watching
farhimouthaothersideofthe Rio Grands.

 

His release from the military prison of Vera
Cruz, on $15,000 bail, last spring, is fresh in the
memory of all, and its injustice maddening to
Tefim'sgmnt f 11 lurking

is v o owers, even now, are
in the chaparrals, and not a week with-
out the spilling of blood between Gringoes and
Greasers.

Clay Wells is in the Texas lunatic asylum,
havin never recovered from the blow given
with t e war-club on the Nueces.

Bill George (Texas Bill), is sheriff of Lancas-
ter Texas.

Kit Carson, Jr., is around among us.

Wild Will was as bad as represented. I saw
him out his horse to death myself on the ride
th h our camp, on Banketta Creek.

P. .—Phil Cole was shot dead by Wild Bill
in Ellsworth, Kansas in 1875. He was stand-
ing in a bar-room door in the night, shoot-
in off his six in the air (as was his way and as
I have described in Fort Brown) when Bill shot
him through the heart, and also his deputy
sheriff by mistake, who'was coming to his as-
iihstance—Bill thinkin' g his aid was a pal of

il’s.

This last 'ng Fightin Ben had a fight with
roughs in Elfirworth, and  two.

A San.
THE END.

 

AN OLD-FASHIONED

MISSISSLPPI DUEL.

BY BOWIE KNIFE.

 

AFTER the cession of Louisiana to Spain, by
France, under the secret treaty of 1762, the

 Government sent over officers of every  to

take char of the country, and to administer
laws, as ey were dealt out in Spain itself.
The consequence was that the great door that
was opened to plunder or accumulation of
wealth, b those in office, especially in the this
to thelan ofLouisiana thefinest in the world,
proved old mines to all in power, for asthem
was no aw except such as was administered by
$22? in m’ “"9 "i’fi” “1°” “$1,133:
noa , or erewasno ‘ '

bonito 11%? could be consummated 
a proper reason to the officials, which, when
that was done, all else e clear and free
from difficulty.

I owned a plantation once, where the sur-
vey called for a line turo miles in length, but
which, on running out, went a mile and ahalf
further. land being plenty, the grant was
determined b the fee the mrveyor. After
it had the Midst of the “Com-
mandant,” for as co only be granted by
the Commandant, and, of course, for good and
valid reasons, so, of course, all the officers inde-
tail must also be reasoned with, and when I in-
form you that no 0 ' ' a1 titlecouldbetakai
away, but had to be edged and leftwiththe

ernmeut ciflc' who would give' a copy

gy, which is ficedvilaloatthls day mix-him,
it can readily' seen extraordinary pow-
erswerelod inthe hands oftheSpamshcm-
cials, and w t opportunitiawere
them to turn an onest penny?”
and silence ” were the great rtues,
soon followed, in the shape of fresh flocksof om-
cials, continually arrivi totaketheplacesdfthe
well-filled swarms, whdfiike the b‘flnbees, had
improved “ each shinin hour." g of the
finest plantations in the alley of the ' ‘
pi, near the of Natchez, .were granted an

old solely from the whim of the Commandant

orfmma l balancedramknownonlv
 tee; forastheoflleials

inSpainplundered t eofiicialsinLo ' ' so
theofllcialsinLcuilia intheirturn, 1 er-
edallunder andt yagainplun all
belowthem,till es mbecameasregularas

clockwork, and twice as easy. And to show how
incensed the were at the cemation ofthis “au-
riferous lacéal,” after the sale by Napoleon to
the United States. all the deeds, of record,
etc., were carried off to Havana, whereth

Y

true.

initationhad existed on thetgrtof
Spain on account of the navxgation of
sissippi River, and porto 't at New Cir»

us, the terrmnahpn of t e Revolutionary
war, when all the. territory of Great Britain
east of the Missmippi. River, from the lake of
the Weak to the Ibexvflle Riv
Lak Maurepas P

e
becamethep
duelsand

WhiletheSpamardhadlcdilomergfengmd‘
ammofhgslanbcfsmmhehad “If;

ch with m .
addafhmcitytbmgideandmr

game. m prompted them
other: asinfMandespeclany-Brrcha

 its .w-h‘qa.» a «I‘LL-a. J,

.. ill . ,
 his)“;  , __ n,

A... .<

 ashram“... ,..k a:

.1 x
. (Azu—O‘al‘oiiln. '..)' “when. A;

. ,a 3“ Mm.

,1 24.5.53; K..‘-4W‘x’lrk’.£flifl”fi .

 3.x“

uh

&'-§F‘$~ia~?u~»‘£l’m.‘ - I 3

. ¢
. “flung . A.

x ,
v :
(sutures:

. --_..-.. we-.. .3 )-

28

and as only the most bold and daring of their
adventurers came to this country, it may well
be imagined that they were a dan erous race to
deal with. But when the sale of ouisiana, by;
Napoleon, to the United States, in 1803, too
fiance, their irekekngvzmgj)  lga leon
vmg' never ta n o possession o uisi-
ana, after the sale by Spain to him by the
treat of St. Ildefonso, in t e year 1800, so they

 

 

hope and hoped on that something would turn '

n which would still ee them in possession of

ir loved El Dorado. at when the Govern-
ment of the United States prepared to take pos-
session of the territory, then r
became the order of the day, an probably more
duels were fought and lives lost during that

riod than at any other in this country, or in
fie world. Nor were the men who were the

~——>

> strange place, of throwing his eyes rapidly
around and taking in its contents, which no—
ticed even in my own handsomely-furnished
parlor, when he visited me in after years. Nor
was his intellect at all inferior to his bod , for
a better balanced judgment, a more soun , dis-
criminating head, a braver heart, a more self-
reliant action, or a fierccr temper, could, per-
haps, be nowhere found. Had he possessed the
advantages of education and opportunit , he
would have made one of thelfliost remar ble
characters of history, fitted for high deeds of

~ daring, responsibility, and usccess.

e and violence ‘

antagonists of the Spaniards their inferiors in i

any sense I .
when the Valley of the Mississl pl was thrown

but infinitely their superiors; for 1

Open to the nation, it was promp l sought after '
by a race of men peculiar to t 9 times, and r
T they had been willing. What was true coliec- i
‘ tively, of course was true individually, and
1 with such combustible materials as Bowie and

superior to any on the face of the earth for the
'tion thus opened, for by none others than
ose socalled bordermen could peace or law
have ever been settled or established. Pioneers
on the great march to empire, begotten and
born amid Indian wars and combats, nursed or
fed by mothers between the lulls of aiding their
husbands to defense against the red-skins, cra—
dled between ramrods, and put to slee with the
war-wh of the Indian for their 1 by, they
w up consider that war and battle was
$2 natural condition of man, and peace the ex-
ce tion.
uentl , they never left their homes
without their arlin rifle in the hollow of their
arm, their reliable wie-knife in theirbosom,
and in every way pre ed for war, for as they
could not go to their elds or gardens without
danger from the ' , as every bush con-
tained a red-skin, and every hollow a savage, so
every movement became a military maneuver,
and every departure from home a martial ex—
pedition. In this manner their keen eyes were
ever on the alert for danger; their cool brain
never at fault; their brave hearts never quail-
inginthehour of peril; and their steady hands
always ready to direct their never-emng rifle—
ball. Nor were their thsical qualities other-
wise than in accord wit their mental. Pos-

 

semed of hardy, fiwerful frames, capable of ‘

sustainin great ps and exposure, not
9W by the savage, with an agility equal
to ' amuscular strength far superior a head
better fitted for skill and resources they pos-
sessed one quality far superior to e Indian,
and before which he went down, and sunk for-
ever from existence; that was the unflinching
lion nerve that, in the death- apple, always
shone so cons icuousl , and .ways came of!
victOr from t e com t. Savmg or rescuing
their families from the savage made them
doubly dear; procuring their food or in
deed] conflict made it far sweeter; an the toil
and r of their condition became a neces-
sary part of their existence, which rendered
life doubly valuable and prized. Standing, as
the did, on the dangerdus confines between
civKimtion and thekuncivillizedfctcilunfiry otiltltie
sav the partoo as one” o e 03 i y
of g bne 5.313% the ratiffilegiotf thtcll1 otfiter; an
unfailings'e peace socey, ey ormed
an impenetrable barrier to the ravages of the
Indianl who, although leagued and ed by the
best 0 their leaders, and whose rude virtues
will compare with any other untutored race
ever mentioned in history, such as Powhatan
Red Jacket, Black Hawk, Osceola, etc., yet
have all disappeared,
“ And through the forests where they roamed,
There rings no hunter‘s shout,"

and gone down before the invincible rowem of
such men as Boone, Bowie, and eir com-

panions.
The hero of this narrative, “Resin Bowie,”
was one of the most perfect specimens of his

clan that could be found or imagined. His :
ection as f

cal roportions were as near perf
moon d reach. Standing about five feet

 

eleven inches in hight, weighing1 about 210 i
‘3

with every limb as beauti and round

as th h it came from a turner’s lathe, with a
-balanced head settin upon as hand-

some a filmed neck and shoul era as could he

wished for, large, heavily-muscled
thighs, goin down to a hi h-instcgped
foo without a icle of spare upon im,
and With as pleasant, good-natured expression
of face as I ever saw, and which, but for the
keen, searching expression of the e e, might
have paced for the profile and h of some
good, worthy plain person, made one of the
meet extraordmgzhmen that it had ever been
my fate to meet . One int in his charac-
ter was his singular a ran good nature, for,
no matter what the nger or excitement, his
fitment e resion never left him. It was not

smile from lack of decision,

“ But the stern joy which warriors feel,"

based 11 sound perception of their position
andhigggnfidenceintheirebilityte meetan

overcome the condition. Another was the invol- i
untary habit. upon entering a room or any i

arms, very .

d i

S ter and more easily an
: in public, so balls or
so

~ I
requent as to become a porno” Of the (“15' 3 alongside the grave before stated, Bowie found

As a matter of course in such a political con-
dition of affairs and with such materials of
men, duels and combats of every description
were not only unavoidable, but became the in-

” he New York Library.

1701. I.

Early next morning an ofllcer waited on
Bowie, with the usual cartel, and left it for re-
Ely. A friend of Howie’s—for there was no

-k of friends in those times, as no one knew
at what moment his own case might need the
same—soon after returned the call with Bowie’s

 

 

. acceptance, and proceeded to arrange the terms,
‘ such being the law of the “ duello,” but was not
. a little 811311831 to learn that Bowie’s antago—

, blood had

cessant order of the day, and which it was 1

either impossible or impolitic for the authorities
to quell. I The Spaniards, from their excited
feelings, had no disposition to, while the Ameri-
can authorities, too weak and too far removed
from succor and relief, were unable to, even if

; his anta onists possessed where onl a spark
eeg , that explo- ;

was n ed to create an explosion,
sion was never long deferred.

The most fertile source of duels were the
Spanish women, for possessed of all the beauty
and fascinations 0 old Spain, with the same
love of gayety, desire of romance, and love of
admiration and excitement, of which, one fa-
vorite was the dance:

“When beneath the evenin star
She mingled in the gay b0 ero,’

and the other was the national instrument,

“ When she sings to her attuned guitar,
0f Moorish knight or Christian hero."

to which, of course, all classes of Americans
became addicted and partici ted in; and as
the occasion for the enjoiymen of these was bet—

1easantly indulged in
'es were common and

toms of the-country. As the border-men were
all fond of the dance. even thou h it was the
rude heel and toe, or the “corn-s uckin ” jig,
as every one who ever passed down the issis-
sippi knows full well, yet, if they could not per-
form the fandango or an
Spain, the could enjoy see ng them danced by
the Spani girls who performed the “ pas seul ’

 

 

of the dances of 5

nist claim the choice of weapons, terms, etc.,
under the Sfiufll custom, which was that when
n drawn u on any party, that
party had the right of se ecting weapons, and
all matters belonging thereto. Bowie had de-
termined for his c oice rifles, at ten steps: still
he had no alternative but accordance to the
rule, and was soon after notified by his friend,
that he had accepted the terms of the duel,
which was to take place with knives, and to
continue as lon as both parties were living,
and could main in the combat. In order to
make the affair more vindictive and marked,
the Spaniard had selected the grave-yard at
Donaldsonville as the place of combat; and on
Bowie reaching there, with his two friends and
surgeon, he was not a little surprised tosee a
ave already dug, beside which they were to
ght, and which his antagonist had proclaimed
Bowie should speedil fill.

When they were need in ition, according
to the terms, whic were Jig: “both parties
stand 11 right, facing each other, the left leg of
each a vanced so that the knee of each of that
leg should be past the knee of his antagonist;
the left arm hanging down perpendicularly by
the left side, the right arm held horizontally
from the elbow, across the breast; graspin the
knife immediately over the heart; both to e in
their shirt-sleeves; the second giving the word
(to be settled b tossing up a do ar between the
seconds), to as , ‘Gen lemen, are you ready?”
and, on receiving] the answer, if ready, or,
after the lapse of alf a minute, if no onse
from one or both, then to give the word
‘Strike!’ after which the combat should be 'n,
and continue till one or the other was killecf-l or
disabled.”

When both combatants were placed in position

that his antagonist was taller than himself,
much less stout, and with longer, thinner arms,
and that his face gave evidence of much excite—
ment, ill su rage and hostilit . Bowie
was perfect y calm, his cool brain an keen e e
measuring his antagonist; looking out for t e

“ weak spots, and carefully arranging his plan of

to the accompaniment of their own rattling, ;
exciting castanete, as better adapted to show .

their own skill and voluXtuous grace, and at the
same time relieve their merican admirers from
anl); such, to them, unknown measures.

was at one of these balls or parties (about I

1806) near Donaldsonville, that Bowie was talk- ; or that, of my antagonist

ing to one of those 'bewitching senoritas, for,
With woman’s quickness, they soon could make
themselves understood in that bashed 'jargon,
called the lish Ian glider Los Americanos
soon  _e 913100 ,1 Intiful, mailicaltolaglé
guage 0 pain, e on y angua t
s ken to a woman, who, having glitanished her
' and laid aside her castanets, was han-
dling er inevitable fan with her usual skill and

suecem, upon Bowie who was seated b her
side. An officer in the she Spanish arm
on take a liberty

:Fproached him, and said, “
r.” To which Bowie re lied, “In what weyr‘
“If you have not the rains to com rehend
that, perhaps you will this," said the cor, at
the same time throwin a lgolllssful of wme,
which he had in his ban , in wie’s face.

A flush of excitement crossed Bowie’s counte-
nance for a moment, but, pulling out his hand-
kerchief and wipin the wine away, he smil-

 

ingly said to his lnsu ter, still standing in front ‘

of him: “ That would havebeen more pleasant
in the throat than in the face,” and w t _on

sulter after some mooring remark about Yan-
kees, turned on- his heel and walked off. Not
long. after, Bowie, resigning his seat beside the
bewitching «senorita to some ardent admirer
went around to look for his self-made foe, an

descrying him with several others standing at .

one end of the room as though guarding the
stairs and exit from the room, as in all Spanish
houses the lower floor was neverused for par-

lors or chambers, bill? the Second floor was "5'  ciferations of the Spaniard, and the entreaties

served for that urpose and apparentl deter-
mined that, Bowie should not leave an); room

action.

Reader, _if you have ever been placed in any
such posmon, or where your life was dependent
upon any action or circumstance you would be
astonished to find how much can be accomplish-
ed in a short space of time. I have been where
upon one second of time has depended my life
. All this pa
through the brain of Bowie in one-tenth part of
the time that on will read it.

Just as the ives were about to be handed to
them, the S , with great ferocity, ex-
claimed, “ le his knees to mine! This cursed
Yankee will run when he sees cold steel 1” This
was accordingly done with a silk handkerchief
of one of the arty, certainly a very de rate

h ulatiion gt! such a man as Rezin wie.

en e qu 'on re you rea i” was asked
the Spaniard, — excitA' , furioqu answered
affirmatively, while wie
watching for the next word.

_As soon as 'ven, quickly raising both hands,
With the left, owie’eeized his antagonist b the

made no reply,

, hair, dragged his head down, while wit his
‘ right he stabbed him with his knife, explecting

to cut his head off, but sup osing that is foe
would come over hard, he ad put too much
strength in his left hand; and the Spaniard,
taken by surprise, had not made the resistance
that Bowie had ex , so that when his knife

conversing with his fair companion. m- 5 meted the blow’ lmd 01 tho we meetm

the S ' d’s neck, it went under his le

shoui er blade; and while Bowie was trying
and working to get it loose, it snap of! near
the handle, being one of those foo ish English
knives of no account to any one. Quickly seiz-
ing the Spaniard’s right hand, with which he
had been furiously cutting the air, Bowie
wrenched his knife, and raisin his head, in an-
other second would have sent is antagonist to
the grave he had dug for Bowie, when the vo-

3 of his seconds, prevailed upon Bowie to spare

except after a combat. But Bowie, walking up ,

to him, said pleasantly, “ I come to return
compliment, at the same time dealing h a
sharp blow in the face. The officer attempted
some retaliation, but Bowie, seizing him by the
throat, dragged him to the stairs and hurled
him down, causin some b as well as
starting some bl . Of course, there was ex-
citement in the immediate vicinity of the stairs,
but beyond that there was scarce a ripple, for
those matters were so common that they created

1 only a passing interest, and Bowie and others

i enjoyed themselves,

“ “ And danced all night.

Till hr and daylight,

And went home with the girls in the morning."

0111'.

I

l

th'ii'hllfe of his foe.

eir knees were aecordingl untied the

S niard attended by the surgeorl: who extract-
the blade of the knife, dressed the Wound,

and he, in due course of time, became well as

ever, though his esca was very lucky.

Years r0 ed on af r this, and Bowie, havin
at timiindulged ingfiacoful o erations of ion
spec ons, espet-i y in panish ts
winch had been given in old times frcefy, had
gone to Havana to get some copies and papers

rom the Land Office there, which had been car—
ried off, as before stated. He was not a little
surprised one day while walking quietly on the
street, to find himself first accosted then

b the hand, then seized in the embrace
m on the cheek (the highest compliment

 

 

m m w—W‘ v... '

 

No. 3.

that a Spaniard could pay) by a tall. fine-look—
ing officer in full uniform. while the compli-
mentarv words of "dear friend.“ "delivere1‘,"
"Santa Maria." "bon conn‘ado," etc. followed
in quick. excited succession. Nor could Bowie
comprehend the condition until the stranger
oflicer explained that he was his friend, whose
life “(m-“4111.1 saved at Donaldsonville; when.
returning the grasp with equal warmth, the
oflicer insisted upon adjourning to a cafe,
where they discussed sundry bottles of wine,
etc.. which attentions did not cease till Bowie
left the island. amid the heart v salutations and
greetings of his ncwfound fricndw-a termina-
tion, which, as Bowie said, was, after all. per»
haps better than sending his antagonist to the
“happy' hunting-groun s;" a conclusion that
most 0 your readers will agree to.

 

(Comnwnced in Number One. y

The Death-Shot.

BY CAPT. MAYNE REID.

 

 

CHAPTER XVI.
A soI‘TiHvssTijns snEmrr.

AFTER his arrest. Richard Dnrke was to be
conveyed to the county jail—about three miles
from his father‘s residence.

The men. who had made him prisoner, took
note of every circumstance attending the ar-
rest. They searched the chamber in which he
had slept—the whole house, in fart. There were
few of them who owed Ephraim Darke any
goodwill. but many the contrarv. His accunnr
laled wealth, used only for selfish ends. had not
gained him popularity in the neighborhood. lie-
sides, he was not a Southerner pur sang, as

The Death-Shot; or, Tracked to Death.

most of his neighbors were. They knew him
to be from the New England States; and, al-
though there was not a bit of Abolitionist in
him, but much of the opposite, still he was not
liked either by planter or “ poor white.“

The sheriff and his party, therefore. used
little ceremony while in the act of making the
arrest: ransacking the house, and examining its
most sacred (U'('(l)l(l. They took possession of
the double-barrclcd gun, which Richard was in
the habit of carrying, as also the suit of clothes
he usually wore when out in the wrwls. In the
coat mit was noted this was not the same he
had on during the day of the search—was found
a hole that looked as if freshly made, and by a
bullet! lt was through the skirt, and had a torn.
tattered edge.

Among the men present when he was made
prisoner, were several who could read such Sign.
and interpret it as surely, or more surely. than
an expert would identify a particular hand-
writing. Notably of these was the hunter
Woodley. At a glance, he pronounced the hole
in the coat-skirt to have been made by a bullet.
and one that had passed through the barrel of
a rifled gun.

Several others, after looking at it, confirmed
\Voodley‘s assertion.

The circumstance was significant; and led to
renewed conjectures among those surrounding

1 the sllcrifl'.

No one thought of questioning the prisoner
about it~not now, that he was in the hands of
the law. All further formal investigation would
be postponed till the trial, soon to take place.
The party arresting him only busied themselves
about evidence to be. sifted at a later period.

Besides the hole through the coat—skirt. the
sheriff‘s posse found nothing else that seemed to
point specially toward the crime—except the
doul)lc—bari'eled gun. To its bore exactly fitted
the bullet which the hunters had extracted from
the cypress-knee, and which was now in posses-
sion of those instructed to prosecute. “'oodley,
however, apart, and acting on his own account,

 

“no THERE. l‘f.\HH or

 

“NE ONCE l.0\'ED«-PI(‘T('BE 0}" ONE “110 HAS

had discovered a pair of boots. heavily laden
with mud. hidden away under a heap of rub»
bish at the bottom of an old peach orchard.
The backwoodsman had surre titiously kept
these to himself, intending to ma '0 private. and
particular. use of them: his comrade, Heywood,
icing alone made privy to the secret of their
discovery.

Having finished their investigation of the
premises, the sheriff‘s party hurried their
prisoner ‘H to the county town: leaving his
father behind in a state of terrible bewilder-
ment. half crying. half crazin cursing.

Most of the men. hitherto following the chief
officer of the law. parted with him at the plan—
tation-gate. He and his constables were thought
enough to keep charge of the accused. A sheriff
in the South-western States is a very different
sort of individual from the men who perform
the duties of this office in the north. or the
grand dignitaries, with scarce any duties at all.
in a shire of England. He of the backwoods
must be a man of unflinching courage—indeed,
often desperate—else the mandates intrusted to
him would result in a failure of justice. and a
mockery of the executive power. It is rarely
that they (lo—rare, indeed, when a Mississippian
sheriff proves recreant to his trust. Far more
common to find him ready to die. or at least
risk death. in the performance of his dangerous
duty: and not unfrequently is this the actual
result. While traveling through the South—west
ern States. I have often witnessed. and admired
as well. the wonderful self—sacrificing bravery
of these reslmnsible officers of the law. “'ho
could help admiring it.’

Therefore. the party who had been with the
sheriff, assisting in the arrest. saw no necessit '
for following him further. The had full
confidence that he would deposit his prisoner
within tlmmounty jail. So. parting with him
and his constables—after passin out of Darke‘s
plantation ate—they turned 0 in a different
direction. Vhether or not the murderer had
been discoyered— most of them believed he was

 

 

' . ,l‘i‘i ,\ 1
duthlill

is

 1
' iii 
\ \\i

M I i ' l‘ \‘d ‘\
‘ '9,  'l' “Q. 
 i l. “it  

i
l
i
l

BEEN FAI.SE."v rage 31.

 

 

—the had yet to search for the body of the ,' sun.

m ered man.

Again, as on the day before, they Separated
into several rties—each taking a ract of the
woods, thong all kee ing in the nei hborhood
where the blood had 11 spilled, an Clancy’s
gun and hat found.

But their search again roved as fruitless, as
on the preceding day. ore so: since on the
second scouring of the woods nothing new was
discovered that could throw additional light
upon, the commission of the crime, or aid them
in recovering the corpse.

Again they dragged and poled the creek up
and down, nctratin into the swam ,as far
as was possi le, or like y that a dead bor y could
have been carried for concealment. In its deep
dark recesses they found no trace of man, either
living or dead; only the solitude-loving crane,
the snake-bird, and the scaly alligator.

It was but a poor report to take back to the
plantations; a sad one for the mother of the
missing man. '

She never received it. Before the returning
searchers could speak the unsatisfactory intelli-

ncle into her ear, Mrs. Clancy lay cold in

cat .

The long—endured agony of ill fortune, the more
recent one of widowhood, and now this new
bereavement of a lost only son; for she fully be-
lieved him lost—basely assassinated—this ac-
cumulated anguish was too much for her
woman’s strength, of late failing. And when
the neighbors got back, clustering around her
dwelling, they could hear sounds within, that
told of some new disaster.

On the ni ht before they had heard the same; ;
Then the

but now t 0 tone was different.
widow’s voice was lifted in lamentation; now it
was not heard at all.

Whatever of mystery there might be, it soon
received elucidation. ‘

A woman, coming out 11 n the porch, and
raising her hand in token o silence, said, in sad,
solemn voice,

“ Mrs. Clancy is dead!”

 

CHAPTER XVII.
run “3an or NATOEII.”

WHILE search was boiling made for the body
of in murdered man—w ' that of his mother
alike murdered was lying cold upon her bed of
death—while the murderer of both was cower-
ing within the cell of a prison—a steamboat was
cl the current of the Red River of Louis-
iana; s owly forgin its course 11 ;‘ ts
single paddlew ee -for it had only one—
beating the ocher-colored water into f that,
floating far behind, danced and simmere upon
the surface, foaming a wake-way of what ap-

pearedto be blood-froth.

It was a little “ stern-wheel ” steamer such as
in those days lied uponman of the tributaries
of the Missiéppi; t e im ‘ve power being
confined to a single set of (1168, placed where
the rudder acts most 0 r vessels and look-

i much like the wheel of an old-fashion-
swam.

The bogt in ueetion was  that: lzellelof
Nahhee; somew a pre 11 ions y:
since it  indifferent sort 'of craft—

emu hubs, and poor in its appointments. 0n

the tip of wfich 1:6 aria ‘ king ‘it)
more appropria y vs 9.1 laim
the distinctive

appellation; since it carried a
young lady who, or some time, had borne it
without denial or di ute.

.The lady was 6183’ Arlingsfisrot t’kcfilown
amonglimimippiansas e“ co a ez.’
By jugular comcidence, the boat so desi ated
was her away from her . ip 1
home—from scenes long loved and cherish '
once joyful, now sad; in retrospect only sac
to the sacrifice of her heart.

Wee ehe leaving that heerthehind her? No.
Itwuwith her, within her breast; but break-

Lnfiwell-ni broken.
“ - ” steam-craft that

1y

u the ‘ rivers of America have but
ht resemblance to the black, low-hailed levi-

a that plow the waters of the Atlantic.
The steamer of the Mississippi more resembles
a halls, rounded at at the corners to en oblong
oval shape, painted snow-white, two stories in

- hight, the upper one furnished on each face with

a row of casement windows, which serve also
rs outeide doors to the state-rooms. Inside ones.
op these, give Mimi-ion to the main
on or “ ” whichmnl mid th h
the beet mm a. whole length-— 
ingdoore ‘ it into three , dim:

i

, e

We,“ stun 
calm handed; " Noticed the root,
termed'the“hurrictne deck”ac
ingtothisouteide gallery,ehadingitfmmthe

. character—cu

The NWFOIk Elma??-

Vol. I.

 

 

Two immense twin-chimne s—or “fun-
' nels,” as called—stand up out of t e hurricane-
deck, pouring forth a continuous volume of
1 white wood-smoke; while a third but smaller
tube, termed the “sca pipe,” intermittentl
vomits smoke still whi r; he steam at eac
emission giving a hoarse bark that may be heard

for miles along the river.
On such a steamer—diflering from others
on] in havin a stern-wheel instead of side-
&( d1es—had_ olonel Armstrong embarked with
is family, ‘transporting them to the “wilder
west ’

And up the Red River of Louisiana they were
making way; slowly, as a stern-wheel boat of
scarce a hundred horse-power, against a rapid
and turbulent current must needs make it.

It was the hour of night—the second after

ing from open cabin windows, or shimmerin

few, ' any, of the passengers had yet retired
to rest. t was, in truth but the after-tea
1 hour, when the tables of the main saloon had
i been cleared, and gentlemen, as also ladies, sat
around them to read; play cribbage; perhaps,
; take a hand at some round game of cards as
“vingt-un” or “beggar-my-neighbor.” e

the honesty of the play—Were carried on in the
bar—saloon, further forward.

On this particular “trip” there chanced to
be many lady ngers on board the Belle of
Natchez—as 0 several gentlemen—some of
them accomplished and a rreeable. For this
reason the Armstron girls ad no need to be
sufferers from solitu e.

Notwithstanding, one of them was so—seem-
ing to prefer it.

s it necessary to sa which? No. The reader
has already essed— elen.

Esca ing cm the saloon, with its continuous
hum o conversation—from speeches that but
wearied, and flattery that only fashed her—she
had taken refu on the stem-guards of the
boat abaft the adies’ cabin. Notwithstanding
the our she there found herself alone. The
otherlad had each some attraction to keep
them inside—her sister a very particular one.

In Jessie’s case it was a youngmplanter named

w had his plan-

W‘ “math

on in the neighborh of Natchitochee
w or e was g e
hith a. boat beerin them H ml
been to Natchez upon business, and was now re-
turning home.

His handsome features, bnmette complexion
black eyes, and gracefully curlin hair had
made havoc with the heart of essie Arm-
stron , in lea than twenty-four hours after
their meetin . En manche, her contrast-
' colors of red, Inc, and gold, seemed to have
he d their own in the amorous encounter.

So the before the Belle of Natchez had
rims... m u the In  saw
0 or n rs, u g rom r,
show unmfiakalfle symptoms of maki a
much lontgfr voya e in company—in shog a

ourne o h e.
j y us took note of their “ billing

Colonel Armst
and cooin ,” but no objection to it. Why
should he The gentleman was known upon

the boat as one of the wealthiest planters in his
State; equally noted as a noble ymmg fellow—
brave, accom ed, and of irreproachable
esare often found among the
Grimm’s oArmstrongf Lonidumbed h all th h it
came c osen w - o
was‘not wealth that bed influenced her signed
ginlg' plgrhave-mflflmiminctifvgésd true love,
t 0y 0 on.
Her aldermsister had no jealousy, not even
en . Thelove that occupied Helen’s,
hed torn, and left it lorn—Was the one love
of a life. It could never be replaced by an-
omtlher. If she hagaen thought abogtit her sis;
’s new rung was 11 en a
her To “and?” from it: ligvgt of

mm'ma the shadow of her own

ry.
Aseheetooduponthestern-guardeofthb
steamboat, her eyes now mechanically bent
upon the revolving wheel that whimII the
water into team, now piercing the dar be-
yond, she felt stealing over heradarkerthofit
—that still more terrible than sadnes— t
which oft prompts to life’s annihilation. The
mentotrhomshehed givenherheert—itsflrst—
as well as fullnem—e heart in which there
c benosecond ,andshe knew it—
this man had made light who saci'ifice. 
itwasasacriiice grand, ausegowingvn
the whole interim: of her life.
The life, too, of a woman gifted with rare ex-
cellences of spirit and person; queenly, com-

'a all

She d  e thereelf,asshe
leentoverthe guerd- steamer. She
only.th t 0 her h tion; of he
hem b him atwhoee feetshe

. herseltzfcadg.buttoo kleul .surren-
halo dm‘mmm 'it—inwrit-
leg in his There-

only, but terme- _
membranes of that was now the cause of her

chagrin, as of her shame.

 

square games—often not so square as regards '

. still ( arker.

 

leaving Natchez—but not late. Lights gleam— I
throu h the Venetian shutters, told that but 3’

, full effulgence, its )eams fal ' u
f bosom of the r1ver. At interiflzs t

 

Both might be ended in an instant. A step
over the railing, a plunge into the red rolling
river, a momentary stru gle amidst its foaming
waves—not to save life, utto destro it—this,
and all would be over! Sadness, ' ousy, dis-
appointed love—these bitter ons, and all
0 hers alike—could be ended in one little effort
—a leap into oblivion!

I-ler nerves were fast becoming strung to tho
takm It. The past all seemed dark, the future
- i For her, life had lost its fascina-
tions, while death was equally divested of its
terrors.

Suicide in one so young sofair, so incompara—

_ bly lovely, one capable o charming others, no
! lon r to be

charmed herself! Suicide, fearful
to t 'nk of l And yet she was contemplating it!

She stood upon the guards, wavering, irreso—
lute. It was no lin ring love of life nor fear of
death, that caused er to hesitate. or et the
horrid form of death she could not fa' to see
before her, sprung she but over that slight
railing.

The moon was 11 , coursin the sky above in
)n the broad
. e boat, keep-
mg1 the deeper channel, was forced close to
sit er bank. Then, as the surging eddies set the
floating, but stationary, logs in motion, the
huge saurian asleep on them could be heard
giving a grunt at having been so rudely awak-
ened, and pitching over into the current with a
sullen plunge.

She saw and heard all this. It should have
shaken her nerves, and caused trembling
throu bout her frame.

It (id neither the one nor the other. The
despair of life deadened all dread of death—
even of bein devoured by an ugly alligator!

Fortunate y, at that moment, a gentle hand
was laid upon her shoulder, and a soft voice
sounded in her ear. They were the hand and
voice of her sister.

Jessie, coming out from the state-room be-
hind, had lided silently u . She saw Helen
grepossesse , sad and coult divine the cause.

be little knew how near things had been to a
fatal climax—and dreamt not of the diversion
her comin had caused.

“ Sister! ’ she said, caressingly, “ why do on
stay out here? The nigllli‘tais chilly; and t ey
say the atmosphere of River country
is full of miasma, with fevers to follow, and
agues to shake the comb out of one’s hair! Let
us 5:) inside, then! There’s right ood company
in e cabin, and we’re going to ave a round
game at cards—vingt-un, or something of the
sort. Come in with me!”

Helen turned round, trembling at the other’s
touch, as if she had been a criminal and it was
the sheriff’s hand she felt upon her shoulder.

Jessie noticed the strange, stron emotion.
She could not fail to do so. Attri uting it to
its remotest cause, that morning confided to her,
she said:

“Be a woman, Helen! a true, strong woman.
as I know you are! Don’t think of him any
more. There’s a new world, a new life opening
to both of us. Forget the sorrows of the old, as
I shall. Pluck Charles Clancy from your heart,
and fling every memory, every thought of him,
to the winds! I say again, be a woman—be

ourselfl Forget the past, and think only of

he future—of our father!”
The words came like a galvanic shock, at the
same time soft and soothing as balm. The had

this eflect upon the spirit of Helen .
They had touched a tender chord—that of
affection.

And it vibrated true to the touch.

Flinging her arms around Jessie’s neck, and
kissing her rose-tinted cheek, she said:

“ Sister, you have saved me!”

CHAPTER XVIII.
sum er em anus.
Seth vfiul m!” speech sh
uc was 6 on s as e
placed her head on her sister’s shoulder,,and
that sister’s cheek with lips pouring
rth affection.

Returning the kifi Jessie looked not littl
lexed. She coul neither comprehefid th:

P93? .

of the words, nor their choking utter-
ance. ually was she at a loss to account for
the con i ve trembhng throughout her sister’s
frame, while their bosoms remained in contact.

Helen gave her no time to ask questions.

“Go mi” she said, causing the other to face
round, and pushing her toward the door of the
Mmm—“ and set the ' un a—going.
I’ll join you for game by the time you’ve got
the cards dealt.”

. Josie, glizdxi0 to mass her Wang more in a
easant m e no pro , t full
fientered the cabin. 8100 y

As soon as her back was turned, Helen once
more faced toward the riVer—step ing close up
to the stern guard-rail. The whee was still m-
volving its paddles as before, beatin the water
into bubbles, and casting the dish-white
sprayafaroverthesm'faceofthestream. :

Now, she had no thought of herself
into the seeth' current, though she meant do-
ing so for somet ing else.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A

\_ Hanan Ammose
.hereelf elevated into t e air where for a time

No. 3.

The Death-Shot; or, Tracked to Death.

 

 

“Before the game of ving't-un begins,” she
said, “ here’s a pack of cards to be dealt out—
with a portrait among them.”

As she spoke, she drew forth a bundle of let-
ters—evidently old letters—tied in a ribbon of
blue silk. One after another, she pulled them
free from the fastening—just as if dealing out
cards. Each, as it came clear, was rent right
across the middle, and tossed despitefully into
the stream.

At the bottom of the acket, after the letters
had been all di sed o , was a photograph_pic-
ture. It was a likeness of Charles Clancy, given
to her on one of those days when he had flung
himself appealineg at her feet. _

She did not tear it in twain, like the letter;
though at first this ap red to be _her intent.
Some thought striking er, she held it up before
the moon, her eyes for a time resting upon, and
closely scanning it. Strange Wild memories,
winters of them, seemed to roll over her face,
while she thus made scrutiny of the features so
indelibly en raven upon her heart. She was
looking her Inst upon them, in the hope of being
able to erase the image, as she had a determina-
tion to do. . .

Who can tell what was then passing Within
that heart? Who could describe its desolation?
Certainly no writer of romance.

Whatever resolve she had arrived at, for a
while she appeared to hesitate about the execut-

in it.

Then, like an echo, heard amidst the rippling
waters, came back into her ear the words spok—
en b her sister:

“ at us think only of our father.”

The thought decided her; and ste 1ping out to
the extremest end of the guard- , she flung
the photograph upon the paddles of the revolv-
ing wheel, as she did so, saying: _

‘Go there, ima. of one once loved—picture
of one who has him false. Be crushed, and
broken, as he has broken my heart!”

The sigh that escaped her, as she surrendered
the bit of cardboard, was more like a scream—a,
cry of anguish. It had the accent that could
onl come from that she had spoken of—a
bro on heart. .

As she tamed away to reenter the cabin of
the steamboat, she seemed ill-pre red for tak-
ing part, or pleasure, in a hand 0 cards.

And she took not either. That game of
vingt-un was never played.

Still half distraught with the agony through
which her soul had passed—the traces of which
she knew must be visible on her face—before
appearing in the brilliantly-lighted saloon, she
gassed round the corner of the ladies’ cabin, in-

nding to enter her own state-room by the out-
side door.

It was but to spend a moment before her look-
ing- lass, to arran 6 her dress, the coiifure of
her ir— rhapst e expression of her face—
all things hat to a man may ap r trivial, but
to a woman important—even in the hour of
sadness and despair. No blame to woman for
acting thus. It is but an instinct—the primary
care of her life—the secret spring of her influ-
ence and wer.

In re )airing to her toilette Helen Armstrong
was bu followinfi the example of her sex.

She did not f0 ow it far—not so far as to get
before the looking-glass, or even inside the room.
Before entering it, she made stop by the door,
and stood with face turned toward the river’s
bank. The boat had sheered close in shore' so
close that the tall forest-trees shadowed her
track—the tips of their branches almost sweep-
ing‘ the hurricane-deck.

hey were cypresses, festooned with Spanish
mess, that hung down like the drapery of a.
death—bed. One was b ' ted, stretching forth
bare limbs, blanched w ite by the weather,
desiccated and jointed like the arms of a skele-
ton.

It was a ghost] sight, and caused her a slight
shivering, as an er the clear moonbeams he
steamer swept past the place.

It was a relief to her, when the boat got back
again into darkness.

Only momentary; for then, under the shadow
of the c presses, amidst the fearful corusca—
tion of t e fireflies, she saw the face of Charles
Clancy!

It was among the trees high up, on a level
With the hurricane-deck.

It could only have been fancy? Clancy
could not be there, either in the trees, or on the
earth? The thing could only be a deception of
her senses—a delusive vision, such as occurs to
clairvoyants, at times deceiving themselves.

Hallucination or not, Helen Armstrong had
no time to reflect upon it. Before the face of
her false lover faded from her view, a pair of
arms, black, sinew ,and stiff, were stretched
toward her; ro y ped her around the
waist, and lifted er in the air!

CHAPTER XIX.
wan-r BECAME or m
vs a shriek, as she felt

 

ache was held suspended. Only for an instant—
mug enou h for her to See the boat on

th. At e same instant she caug t sight
0‘ her sister, as the latter rushed out upon the

\

 

guards, and gave a piercing cry in reply to her
own.

As she herself screamed a second time; what-
ever had seized her suddenly relaxed its hold;
and her next sensation was of falling from a
giddy hight, till the fall was broken by a pl
into water. She experienced a severe shoc ,
striking her almost senseless. She was only
sensible of a drummin in her ears, a choking in
the throat—in short, e sensation that precedes
as hyxia by drowning.

be responsive cries given out by the two
girls, and then continuously kept up b Jessie,
brought the passengers rushin out o the sa-
loon a crowd collectin upon t e stem- rds.

“ Some one overhear !” was the thong t and
the shout that rung through the vesse. It
reached the ear of the pilot; who, instantly

ringing the “stop” bell, caused the paddle- ‘
wheel to suspend its revolutions, bringing the ,

steamer to a sudden stop. The strong current,

against which the boat was at the time contend— 3

' contributed to its suddennem.

eanwhile, Jessie, the only one who had wit— ?

nessed the mysterious catastrophe, was too
much awed by its mystery to give any intelli-
gible explanation of it. She could only franti-
call exclaim:

“ sister! taken up into the air! She’s
now own in the water!
her!”

“In the water—where?” asked a voice, wheee
earnest tone spoke of readiness to respond to
the a peal.

“ onder—there—under that t tree. She
was in its top first, then droppefigwn into the

river. I heard the IBilunge ut did not see her
after. She has su to the bottom. Merciful
Heavens! Oh Helen—sister! Where are you?”

The people were puzzled by these incoherent
speeches. Both assengers above, and boatmen
on the under-dec , were alike mystified. They
stood as if spell-bound.

.Fortunately one of the former had retained
his presence of mind, and alo with it his cool-
ness. Fortunately, too, he the courage to
act under the emergency. As also the capacit ,
being a swimmer of the first class. It was e
who had asked the uestion “ Where?”——the
ygiung planter, Louis u re. He only waited

hear the answer. Wh' e it was be' given,
he had hurriedly divested himself of is coat
and foot wear. In evenin costume, his shoes
were easily kicked off—w ite waistcoat and
coat tossed aside at the same time. Then, with-
out staying to hear half the offered explanation
he sprimg over the guards, and swam toward
the s t pointed out.

“ rave, noble fellow!” was the thought of
Jessie, her admiration for the man—now her
aclmowledged suitor—for the moment making
bier gsrget the pen] in which her m r was

ac .
p‘~But it now seemed less. Confident in her
lover’s strength believing him capable of an -
thing, she fe t almost sure that Helen would
save . '

She stood, as did every one else upon the
steamer, watching with earnest, anxious eyes.
Hers _were more; they were flashing with wild
feverish excitement; givin glances of h at
intervals altornatin with tfie fixed gaze 0 fear
—the expression of er features changing in cor-
res ndence.

here might be wonder at her hopes, but none
at her fears. The moon had sunk to the level of
the tree-tops, and the bosom of the river was in
dark shadow; darker by the bank where'the
boat was now drifting. But little chance there
was to distinguish an ob 'ect in the water—less
for one swimming uponi surface. And then
the river was deep, its current re 'd, its waves
turbid and full of dangerous ed '95. In '
tion, it was a spot infested—well known to be
the favorite haunt of that hideous reptile, the
alligator, with the equal] dreaded gar-fish—the
shark of the South-was rn waters. All these
thin _ were in the thoughts of those who stood
ben mg over the stern-guards of the Belle of
NatcheZ' causing them anxiet for the fate, not
only of the beautiful young y who had fallen
overboard, but the handsome, courageous gen—
tleman who had plunged in, and was swimming
to her rescue.

Anxiety would be a light word—a slight,
trivial feeling—compared with that throbbing
in the breast, and showing itself in the counte-
iiance 2f  Armstrong. garages the tor-

ure o m e suspense; gr u wi
into the acute agony of despair, as tam
and the young planter returned not, nor was
anything to be seen of him in the water. Then
her father, standing by her side, could do little
to comfort her. ' He, too, was paralyzed—a prey
to agonized emotions.

The steamer’s boat had been manned, and set
loose as quickly as could be done. It was now
right over the spot where the swimmer had
beenlastseen, andalle eswereflxedu nit—
allearslistenin toca'tc an wordofc eer.

Not long they to n. From the sha-
dowed ace of the river came a shout sent up
in Joyous tones. ' '

‘ She’s saved!”

v Then, quickly after, spoke a rough boatman’s
cice. '

Oh, save her! Save ‘

“All right! We’ve got ’em both. Throw us

a 51.9?!”
e rope was thrown by read hands, after
which came the command, “ Han in!”
A light, held high up on the steamer, flashed
‘ its beams down into the boat. Lying along its
: thwarts could be perceived a form—that of a
j lady—in a dress once white, now discolored by
, the muddy water filtering from its skirts. Her
, head rested upon the knees of a man, whose
! scant garments were similarly saturated.
It was Helen Armstrong, supported in the
. arms of Louis De re.

She appeared ' class; and the first sight of
her drew anxious exclamations from those
standing upon the steamer.

, Only for a short while was the anxiety en—
; dured. A few minutes after she had been car—
ried to her stateroom, there came from it the
report that she still lived, and was out of dan-
‘ r. Colonel Armstrong himself imparted to

his fellow-passengers this intelligence—joyfme
: received by every one of them.

 

their father had one forth, there was a little
bit of a scene, wi a conversation that may be
worth repeating. The younger commenced it
by saying:

“Tell me, Helen! Dear sister, don’t be afraid
to speak the truth. Why did you jump over-
board?”

“Jump overboard! What are you talking
about, Jessie?”

“I declare I don’t know myself. It seems
such a mystery, all of it. I saw on for some
time up in the air, as if hovering here, like an

onwin ! I’d bewillin toswearthatl
saw on so. 1! course, it coul only have n
my ancy ' htened as I was at seem you
overboard. fter that you appea to drop
straight down, your white skirt streaming after.
Then I heard a plunge. Oh Helen! it was fear-
ful; both the fancy and the reality. What did
it mean?”

J Inside the stateroom of the two sisters, after
i
i

 

“ That was just what I was asking myself at
the time fyou saw me suspended, as you say, in
the air; or so I was, dear Jessie. I soon after-
ward arrived at the explanation of it. Though
puzzling me then as it does you still, nothing
can be more simp e.”

“ But what was it, an how?”

“Well,then,itwast ' : As I stood leaning
over the guard-rail I was suddenly carried away
from it, as if by a pair of strong, bony arms.

After keeping me awhile, they released me from

their grasp, lett' me fall filaump into the river

Elie? certainly should ve been drowned
u or—

“ For Louis—my dear Louis!”

“Ah! Jessie; I don’t wonder at your admira-
tion. He deserves it all. I am envious, but
not_  I can never know that feeling

“Dear sister! do not think of such th' .
Don’t you see you haven’t yet explained
strangest part? What carried you into the air?
You speak of a pair of arms. What kind of
arms? To whom did they belon ?”

“ To a ghostly cypress— ree. es, Jessie; that
is the explanation of what mystifies you, as it
did me for a while. I know all about it now.
A t outstretching limb, forked at the end,

caught the steamer somewhere forward,
and get bent down. It caught me, also, just as
it was springing up again, and gave me the
swing, and the drop, and the good ducking I’ve
had. Now you know all.” .

A sweet {ply thrill“ ed througsh J essxe’s heart on
receiving t 's explanation. he was no longer
troubled with a suspicion, hitherto distresmg
her. Her sister had not intended 

CHAPTER XX.
A BACKWOODB JURY m nnnmmuon.

Tm: men who, after the second d9. ’8 search,
had returned to Mrs. Clancy’s cot , were
few in number being on] her more timato
friends and well-wishers. ost of the searchers
had gone direct to their own homes. .

Soon, however the news magi-end abroad that
the mother of the murde man was herself
stricken down. This, giving a fresh stimulus to
symgiathy, as well as curiosity caused all to as-
sem le anew—many startin the beds, to
which they had betaken emselves after the

da ’3

gefore mi ' ht there was a crowd around
the house, grea r they anythat had yet col-
lected. And of the vonces mingling in conver-
sation the tone was more excited and
It'was 1only (maligned intathe pmcgdof t
corpse ‘ upon 1 com i e ace
turned ymg ' 1 toward them.’

From e d here wasno need of any“).

to cause a demand for ins-tics. of

hen ' were loudly cal!".-= xor it; and 039
to the bar of 
their heads hour toge er, were W the
ways and means of obtaimng' ’ it surely and
quickly.

Inmhcuesthmarealways comer!» colu-

mend. Itma notbofroman

 

raukorweal Inthehouro
fulchieftains—thmewhomGOdd
leed—arerecogniaed, andacknow

 



, ofmen,with'

 

32

The New York Library.

Vol. I.

 

 

A group, composed principally of these, stood
in front of the cottage, debating what was best
to be done. It was a true backwoods jury,
roughly improvised, and not confined to twelve;
for here were more than twenty taking rt in
the deliberation. They had drawn toget er by
a sort of tacit and common consent, and by the
same had a foreman been appointed, a planter
of standing in the nei hborhood.

The uestion in de te was at first twofold:
Had C lee Clancy been murdered? And, if
so who was his murderer?

t_ The former was soon decided in the affirma-

rve.
crime. The conjectures of all were turned to-
ward the crimmal. What roof could be
brought forward to fix it on t e man that day
arrested, and who was now lying in the jail to
await legal trial?

Every sign seen by an A
crowd, every incident that ad transpired, was
as calmly discussed, and carefully weighed by
this rough, backwoods u , as if it hadbeen
compose of the twelve men to be found in
the most civilized city. Perhaps with more in-
telligence—certainly with as much determina-
tion to arrive at a righteous verdict.

They discussed not onl the occurrences of
which they had been 111 e aware, but the mo-
tives that might lead to them. Among these
last came prominent!

existed between the wo men. There had been

nothing hitherto known to tell of any hostility, ;
that might lead to the commission of such a 1

crime.

_ There was little said about Darke‘s relations
with the family of the Armstrongs, and less of 3
Helen Armstrong in cular. It was suspect- ‘
'ed that he had sou
lady; but no one t ought: of Clancy having
been his rival. - Up to t t time Colonel Arm- 1
strong had maintained a proud position. It was ‘
not parabable that he would have rmitted his .
dang ter to think of matching wrth a man cir-
cumstanced as was Charles Clancy. ‘

Clancy’s loVe secret had been carefully tlgpt. 
None were privy to it. A few onl suspec it
—among these his mother, whose ips were now
2sealed by death.

Had the deliberating backwoodsmen but
known that he had been Darke’s rival suitor—

: more the succesle one—it would have
given a different turn to their deliberations—al-
most a keynto the crime. Than such motive,
nothing ts more surely to murder.

Had elen Armstrong been herself present
amon them, or near—anywhere that she could
have tidings of the tra 'cal events excitirfiflg
the settlement—there woul have been no di -
culty about their coming to a conclusion. The
selfconstituted jury would, in all robability,
have been told something to elicit rom them a
quick verdict, an equally quick sentence, with,
perhaps its instant execution.

But Helen Armstrong was no longer there—
no longer near. By that time she must have
been hundreds of miles from the lace, she and
all related to her. Any secret s e could have
disclosed was not available for that trial gOing
on by the widow Clancy’s cottage. _

And, as no one suspected her of havm such
secret, her name was only mentioned inc dent-
ally, without any the ht of her bein able to
throw light upon the ark mystery t ey were
endeavor-ing to make clear.

For several hours they remained in consulta-
tion, weighing the testimony that had been laid
before them.

No one had the slightest doubt about the ‘

of the collected ,

up the relations that had ‘

i
' and they had sufficiently reflected upon it, his
account of the affair seemed still less like the
true one. His having once chastised Clancy’s
‘ dog might, naturally enou h, make the animal
afterward spiteful towar him. But why had
this spite not been shown while they were
aroun the cottage before setting out on the
search? Why was it only made manifest, and in
such earnest manner, after they had arrived un-
der the c ress—be ond doubt the place where
the dog ha last 100 cd upon his master?
Although still nothing more than circumstan-
tial, to many of those engaged in the in uiry,
this chapter of testimony appeared ahn con-
clusive of Darke’s guilt.
During the deliberations two individuals came
11 n the ound, who contributed an addition-
. a item 0 information, corroborative of this.
These were Simeon Woodley and Ned Heywood.
Their added testimony referred to the footprints
seen by the swamp’s edge. After amistin at
the arrest they had proceeded thither, ta 'ng
, Darke’s boots—which Woodle had surrepti-
‘ tiously secured—along with t em. Like the

found to fit the tracks exactly. No others could
have made those marks in the mud. So certi-
fied the two hunters, declaring their readiness
to make oath of it.

It was another link in the chain of circum-
stantial evidence, still further strengthening the
case a ainst the accused.

As t facts were brought forward, one af-
ter another, the group of deliberators seemed
: gradually subsiding into a fixed belief, likely
soon to end in action—that sort usually taken
by the executive officers of “ Justice Lynch.”

The “ Death-Shot” will be continued in “ The

t the hand of the young ‘ Kidnapper,” announced below.

 

 

Number Four, Ready June 20th,
FRANK STANN'S NEW YORK llBHARY

A New Romance by the author of
“ A Hard Crowd.”

The Kidnapper;

The Great Shanghai of the Northwest

BY PHILIP S. WARNE.

 

 

A tale of the Minnesota Border—strong,
graphic, and almost wildly thrilling—egually a
tale of mystery, revenge and love, an a suc—
cession of adventures in the deep forest that hold
the reader captive to the exciting narrative.

No “ Sensation ” like that of such tales as this
——of the real life and real men and women of
the border, and the real red human tigers who
feed on government supplies only to cutthroats
when the war-whoop sounds.

FRANK STARB’SNEW YORK llBHAfll

A Three Column Large Quarto.
No. I CONTAINs

“A HARD CROWD.”

 

 

 

The Wm thatizlelemed Stgdfiix the ilt
upon e Were repea pas n re ew
and still they did not bring clinviction—at least:
not complete. No one of them but might have
been compatible with his innocence. A bullet
flttin a smooth—bore fowling-piece, however
one y, was not of itself testimony sufficient to
hang a man; even though Clancy’s body had
been found with the ball in it. Both these con-
ditions were Wantin to the chain of evidence.
The body had not 11 found, and the bullet ‘
was onl buried in the bark of a ens-knee.

The b ood which it had carried with it into
the wood was evidence of its havin first
through living flesh—whether the of man, or
anima , could not be decided.

The torn hole throu h the skirt of Darke’s
coat, connected with ancy’s gun having been

A startling, deeplfiexciting tale of the border,
when “over the issouri” was out of. the
“States.” It is of a Hard Crowd—a lawless
set of ruilians, such as no other country in the
world could produce— amblers, outcasts, horse-
thieves, plainsmen, In ian-fi hters and hunters,
with an occasional army 0 cer or adventurer
to leaven the unleavened massz—‘a story not
only of rufiianism and lawlessness, but 'a re-
markable series of acts by an extraordinary
bevy of men and a not less e traordinary youn

woman who as heroine an actor renders tha

HARD CROWDa singular service and gives it a 3 t1!

blow that kills. Those who have read “Tiger
Dick” a very peculiar and powerful etc of

Western life—will find in this new work, rom .

bullet to the barrel of his gun, his boots were.

 

No. 2.—THE DARE-DEVIL; or, THE WrNoED
Wrrcn OF THE SEA. By Col. Prentiss
Ingraham. Ready May 24th.

NO. 3.—KIT CARSON, JR: or THE CRACK
SHOT or THE WEST. ‘By Buckskin
Sam, (Maj. Sam S. Hall). Ready
June 7th. "

NO. 4.—THE KIDNAPPER; or, THE GREAT
SHANGHAI OF THE NORTHWEST. By
Philip S. VVarne, Author of “Tiger
Dick,” Hard Crowd,” etc. Ready
June 20th.

All original, (lee ly-exciting and incompara-
bly interesting. othing like them offered at
any price.

FRANK STARR & CO., Publishers
Flatt and William Streets, N. 

Sent by mail on recei t of price, ten cents, or
can be had of all new ealers who keep a sup-
ply of FRANK STARR’S New York Library, Ten

‘ent Pocket Library, and all other current pub-
lications of the day.

 

 

160 PAGICS COMPLETE

FRANK—STARR’S

Ten Cent Pocket Library.

Dashin , Exciting Strikingly Original Stories
of Wild rife in the West—t e Romance of the

 

‘ Frontier, of - the Mines, of the Trail, of the

and Hunter’s Field, of Daring

Tmpper’s Cam
Exploration in the Unknown

Adventure an

i Re 'ons of the Territories.

 

’1 e Best Stories of American Life, Character
and Adventure ever ublished, printed in beau-
tiful Handy Volume orm, each issue one hun-
dred and sixty pages, a novel com lete, and sold

at the pular price of TEN NTs, _by all
newsd ers, or sent post—paid, by mail, for
same price!

Nothing Like Them Ever Ofered.

No. 1.~—HURRICANE NELL, THE QUEEN or
THE SADDLE AND LAsso. By Edward
L. Wheeler. Now Ready.

No. 2.—-ONE-LEG THE DUELIST; or TEE
BREAD RIDER or TEE ROAN man.
By Geo. W. Browne. Now Ready.

No. 3.—OLD AVALANCHE; or, TEE Gnu.
BANDIT. By the author of “Hurri-
cane Nell.” Ready June 15.

No. 4.—The BOY SEA-THUGS; or, TEE: Pr-
RATE’s DAUGHTER. A Romance of
the Lost Islands. By Roger Star-
buck. Ready July lst.

For Sale by all NeWsdealers. Price Ten Cents.

FRANK STARR & 00.. Publishers,
Platt and William Streets, N. Y.
Sent by mail on recei t of price, ten cents, or
can be had of all new ealers who keep a sup-
ly of FRANK STAaa’s New York Library, Ten
gent Pocket Library, and all other current pub-
lications of the day.

 

Number Three, BeadyJune 15th,

, Is a Glorious  of the Wild West, viz:

Old Avalanche,

The Great Injun Annihilator;
' OR.

Wild Edna, the'Girl Bandit.

BY ED. L. WHEELER.
AUTHOR or. “ HURRICANE NILE.”

Another “ hit!” ' A rousing story for all who
delight in tales of the 'wilderness and of adven-

 

 

re.

. Wild Edna Queen of the Banditti is yet

a Queen of Hearts, and a Peerless Gir, whose

sin-antic associations and spirited acts make her
r

its author’s hands, something to excite wonder, : a oen of defiand thrilling interest.

found discharged looked more like something surprise and deli ht. I But 01d_AV Hello Is a gen“!!! of oddity who
,. from which a deduction could be drawn unfa- 5 A HARD CRSWD is given in one number, i loves GICItement and, danger, and 18948 a 1110
‘1 \ vorable to the accused. Though it mi ht also price only ten cents. In the same number is _. that kee the reader in a fever of excrtmgsus-
:i 1370? mm. 88 PTOOf- 0f 5 fl '5 between t 0 W0. commenced Captain Mayne Reid’s magnificent : pense. _ 1th a_ Goat for constant companion
3.. airedii thenlirillin E)th ancy wgga not 3 pr]:- Romance of the South—west, I find assistant, his career is as funny as it is start-
?» m mu er. t is circnm nce ar e i m -
i: - . . . .
' had offered no e lanation. After his arrest he .' - ’ fie story 18 tellm as_a story, with two En -
is bad preserved :p sullen silence, and refused to ‘    ’ i lih ladies and two Ignglish baronets for icgi-
{; answer interrogatories.” 0r, Tracked to Death, pants. Driven into the celebratedd Dea Can—
;i. “ You’re going to try me,” he said, in reply to . R , , i yon by the Sioux, and in the canyon pounced
iii , a on ut by one of the sheriff's party. ' one Of the mat Omancm' 3 moat sRlendld 1 down upon by the Mountain Bandits, they have
3‘ “ be time enough then to explain what workfi- Given Wlth 5" the 0” “31 beal‘t'ful ‘1‘ i a lively time, whose mcrdents make exciting
i

 a to puzzl lustmtionfi. 25 in “When T909 ved direct from i cha tors in an exciting book.
.‘ lfie worst appearances against him had been KW London Illustrated NW, and used by spa i Finn SrAaE’s Poem anuw is sold by
is. his own behavior, as also that of the dog—both, 0151 me!“ With the “than . . i an newsdealen. or is sent. postpaid. to my I'd-
:' tomathe exceedingly suspicious, About ‘ The “ Ew YORK LIBRARY wrll comprise , dress on receipt. of'price—daen cents, each lane
1 the tter he d made a statement u n the '5 “'9 first issue“ i -—the cheapest. liveliest, most enterininins Work
f mend; though it had failed to satisfy hose of No. 1.--A HARD CROWD; or, GENTLEHAN of the day! Address, 3
*‘ searching rty who were most rone to ' BAu’s SISTER. By the author of Ti- FRANK STARR & COKPANY.

. A: i ger Dick. Now Ready. 41 Platt street, New York

0 you.

i." suspect him d, now that time h ' elapsed,