Copyright“, 1388, by Bnuu Alb Anna. Enhde It the Pout 01th:. at Navy York, N. Y., in Second Clun Mull Mutt-r. March 24,1888.

 

. Pub ' h d W kl b 1
vol. XVI. :33. “gageangmgficggxgggdm  No. 206.

 

 

 

 

 

\‘=~‘_fl‘, ‘_ “ i ’ "' In“

,,,__._.——..,

m GMT W CREPI‘ CAREFULLY TO THE WWI Ol' TEE 30058 AND my on“.

 

 

 

33M: scout paused, with his head concealed be-

3' Kit Burt’s Mask.

 

Kit Burt’s Mask;

.- on. ,
NICK, THE SCOUT.
3 BY W. JEMILTON,

AUTHOR or “run BRANDED CAPTAIN,” “SAM,
rim swear scour.” rum YOUNG
TRAILER,” “sau’s LONG
TRAIL,” are, me.

 

CHAPTER I.
run ourcasr QUEEN.

K Ammonntain pass, broken gorges, deep,
solemn ravines clothed In pine and sage, the

' _ only growth of this desolate place.

An ap ailing shriek, so wild, fierce and in-
tense. so ull of heartfelt agony that it seemed
to pierce to the very marro w, was heard within
the pass, and the single listener looked up,

hast. toward the elevated platform from

‘ w once the sound seemed to come. It was re-

tred,a moment after, and, impelled by an

mpulse which he could not resist, the man be-
gan to climb the rocky side of the ravine.

He was in mountain garb, and so huge of
limb that he might almOst be celled a giant.
His belt bore the usual wea us of the moun-
taineer—revolvers, knife an hatchet, while the
weapon, ar excellence, of the ountain and
prairie-t e rifle—was slung at his back, as he
used both hands in miking the ascent.

' In hight the man was at least six feet two
inches, with a corresponding: breadth of shoul-
der and girth of loins. His face was that of an
Irishman full of genial good-nature, although
there was a stern. determined look upon it now
which was never seen except in the hour of bat-
tle or danger. .

Up he went, crawling from shelf to shelf, un-
til he reached the summit of the rocky ledge.
Then he came at once upon a strange scene, such
none as his eyes had seldom seen in the wild
life at the border.

.Three persons stood upon the platform —-a
'Navajo chief, a woman of the same nation, and
awhite girl of rare beauty, whose white skin
and sunny hair contrasted strangely with the
dark faces of the others. The woman was kneel-
ing on.the rock, clasping the white girl in her
arms, and over thezn towered the chief, his dark
face full of fury. He was’a powerful man,
blazing in barbaric ornaments—one of the great
tribe who had made the cowardly Mexicans
bow before their arms azain and again. He
wore golden bracelets. a collar of the so me rich

1 material rudely beaten into shape, and about his

forehead gleamada sort of crown of gold. .set
with stones, which, whatever their uahty,
,flashed in the sunlight like diamonds of t e pur-
‘ est water. ' I

‘ Hestood with his back to the cliff, looking
down deroelyat the beautiful Indian girl—for
the was beautiful—kneeling at his feet. The

i the Iagrbusbel, and listened, for he could

 

see that the chief, for the present at least, did
not mean to harm the woman.

“Kara,” he said, in a low tone, full of deep'

feeling, “ you have been the wife of a great
chief: he has held you in his bosom an has
loved you well. When you spoke in his ear it
was like the music of the birds to him, and his
heart beat when he saw you coming. The wife
of such a chief should remember that her hand
is— beneath the foot of her husband; that she
must obey him in all things, and question not
the work of his hands. .But see—:1 go away and
leave in your hands a prisoner w 0 holds the
whole future of the Navajo nation in the hollow
of her hand. I come back and find that Kara
—Kara, the daughter of a chief and my wife—
has taken this prisoner and fled away toward
the great villages of the white men. Hal achief
should strike such a wife as that.”

The look of wild fury came back to his face,
his hand dropped to the hilt of a knife, and the
waiting scout cau.iousl y drew a. revolver from
his girdle and held it ready. He did not cock
it yet, for he knew that the slight click of the
lock would be heard by the chief. The woman
bowed her head patiently, and waited for her
death, but it did not come. '

“ But see, Kara,” said the chief. “I could not
lift my hand against the woman I have loved be-
yond all others. My heart is very strong, but it
is weak as water when I think of laying you dead
at my feet. If you have any heart, remember
the wickedness it has done in flying with the
White Sunbeam, upon whom the whole Navajo
nation leaned as upon a strong pear. Speak,
Kara, andtell me why you fled?”

“I looked upon the face of the Sunbeam, and
it was very beautiful,” replied the woman, moan-
ing. “ I knew that her friends wept for her in
the far-off village, and that they would bless me
if I gave the prisoner back to their arms.”

“ Did you forget that Adanta had a son, wo-
man of the bad heart?” hissed the chief. “ Do
you not know that he weeps for his mother in
the lodge of the Navajo, and me out his little
hands for the woman who wi come back no
in ‘rei Go; you have looked upon the face of

our boy for the last time, and this is your pun-
hment. Adanta has no worse to give you.”

As he spoke he raised a sort of bone amulet to
his lips and breathed through it. A shrill whis-
tle was heard, and, as if by magic, a hundred
armed warriors sprung:- into view, clamboring
over the rocks toward t e chief; clad in the gay
garb of~‘the Navajoes, their. cloth tunics, yellow
leggings and helmet-shaped caps adding to their
warlike appearance. They shouted in delight as
they saw that Atlanta, had retaken, the White
Sunbeam, and that Karamas at his feet. _

“ Warriors and chief's,” cried Adanta. “ you
See before, you a faithless woman, who would
have robbed the great nation of the Navajoes of
their chief prisoner. upon whom a great prophecy
rests. Her feet were swift, but ours were swift-
er, and behold, she lies at my feet.”

‘f Let her die!” cried the band, as with one
vome. .

The chief raised his hand in a solemn-and im~
pressive gesture.  l

“ No, Nava]oes; you speak not wisely in this.

We take away her child—she is no longer a

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kit 3mm Mask. )3

 

daughter of a chief or’the wife of Adanta; she
cannot dwell in the lodges of the Navajoes, and
we let her live. Who is there among you who
would not rather die?” ,

The Nava 'oes looked at each other in mute ad-
miration. 0 them this was the refinement of
punishment, worse than the torture at the stake,
and it was plain that they agreed with him.

The scent had sunk down below the face of
the cliff, for he felt that the company was get-v
ting too many for one of his retiring disposition.
But he could hear every word.

“ Come forward, It—a—ha-nahi”cri3d Adanta.
“ Take the White Sunbeam to your care and
guard her well. Away with her to the Navajo
town. As for us, let us see if we are not lords
of the plain, in spite of the Mexican dogs. Kara,
go your ways, and be more faithful to any who
give you shelter in the coming time. Adanta
has forgotten that such a woman has ever
dwelt near his heart. Warriors and chiefs,
away i"

Kara started up in speechless agony, stretched
out her hands toward the ‘retirin figure of her
husband, but could not speak. be great band
filed slowly past, looking at her with stony faces,
and pointing the finger of scorn at her. I
—Kara uttered. an agonized scream and fell
prostrate u n the rocks in a dead faint. The
scout crouc ed behind the rocks until satisfied
that none of the Navajoes would return, when
he sprung up and raised the head of the fallen
woman on his knee.

“ The curse av all good min on the head av

‘ye, Adantal” he hissed, with a strong Irish ac-

cent. “ I’ll' make it sorry work for ye, wan day
or ither, be me sowll Whist, darlin’; take a sup
av the craythur, and much good may it do a.”

He placed his canteen to her lips and tri to
get her to drink. Failing in that, he put a little
upon the white lips, and pouring some into his
Palm, bathed her nostrils. She came back to

lie with a gasp, and, as-she saw the face bend-
ing over her, would have started from him with
a cry of terror, but he held her fast.

“ Aisy now, mavourneen dhelish—aisy—aisyi
Nick O’Connor is not the man ye nade fear the
Paste taste in life. Say the wurrud, an’ be me
sowl I’ll go afther that bla’g’ard av a NavaJo
an' ni'ake it moighty warm for him; see till that
now.

The Indian woman ceased to stru Is, for the
face which bent above her was so fu of honesty
and good-will that even her clouded mind could

. com rehend that he meant kindly, althou h she

coul not understand a word he spoke. 9 saw
her trouble, and managed to get out a few
words in the Nava o tongue, enough to make
her understand that e meant kindly to her.

“Kara will die,” she said. “If Atlanta will
not give me death, knives are sh and the
river is deep. It will not be long efore the
Indian Queen will be at rest.” _

“ Hush, now, hushl” said Nick, m an angry
tone. It’s a- car use to put yersilf to, 'umpin’
intil the wet er. Didn’t I hear the cha e spake
av a bit av a b’ that belongs til ye?"

The face of t e woman changed at the men-
tion of the boy, and the old a any came back.

“ I have lost him 2" she cri . “ Did not Atlanta
say that I had seen his face for the last time?”

 

“ Now lookl” said Nick. “ It’s but a small
matther for me to do, an’ be the powers av mud,
av ye promise not to make away wid yersilf,
I’m the b’y will go into the Navajo village and
bring ye the lad. Hear til that, now!”

A look of wild 'oy came into the woman’s 5 -
face for a moment, at it changed again as she '
remembered the dangers and difficulties attend- -
ing such a course as he had suggested.

“ No white man can go to the Navajo village ’
unless he is a prisoner. The white man can not
do as he says.’ ,

“ I’ll do it—I’ll do it, or I’ll forfeit me life”,
cried Nick. “ Look now, it’s plain til me that
ye don’t know the lad that’s sp‘akin’ til ye. I’m
a broth av a b’y, an’ fightin’ is milk-punch til.
me: so say no more about it' I have a. place
where ya kin'stay safely, an’ I’ll ,be the b’y to
get the childer away from the chefs. It w’u’d

e only fun for me.” '

With this new incentive to live, the woman
followed him down a rugged mountain path,
and, after a short walk down the ravine, they
came to a lace where another ravine crossed
the first. ick O’Connor turned down this place
and came out upon a little circular valley, where I
two horses were grazing, and a man was seated
before arude hut, cleaning a rifle. He looked
up as they approached, an his face expressed
Sfirmle astonishment as he saw the companion of

1c .

The occupant of, the place was somewhat
younger than Nick, not so tall b three inches,

ut hardly the erson you woul care tomeet
in a close grapg e. He was a handsome Iyoung
fellow, too, Wit curling brown hair an dee
blue e es, full of the same me light whic .
showe in those of the Irishman. ’ ewas of the ‘ l
same nation, though evidently a entlemnn born \ ’
and bred. His dress was of ric material, and 1?
his weapons of the finest make. '

“What does this mean, Nicki” he said. “A ‘ 
captive princess?” 
“ It‘s nearer right ye are than e mi ht think,
Misther Ned Dangerfield,” said ickfiaughing.
“This is the wife av the great chief Adapts,
the Navajo, an’ be me sowl she‘s a beauty.” ‘
“ What is she doing here?” demanded Ned U
Dangerfield. . .‘
.“ Rest aisy, aoushla!” replied Nick. “ Faith;
it's a curious nation we are, an’ we want to
know all that’s goin’. Sit ye down, an’ I’ll tell ~
ye all the news."
They sat down, and Nick told his companion .
all that had happened since they (parted. They . _
were yet in close consultation, an Ned had (111- v -
nounced his intention of aiding Nick in keeping ‘, '-'-'
his word with the Indian woman, when hey ,
heard the sound of feet on the soft turf, and a
man. wounded by an arrow, dashed wildliinto
the little glen, and fell bleeding to the out . p a
“ Whoopl” cried Nick. “Take er rifle. Ned, 7
me darlin , let us see what we .do. Whoos ‘
I
They snatched up their weapons, and darted I
hastily to the entrance of the valley, fully ox-
pectingto sea the whole Navajo band in close
ursuit. To their surprise, Kara caught n: Lvr
w, and took her station in the pass. \\ itli an
arrwflttedtothestring. '3 ~

  
   
   
   
   
 
   
   
    
   
   

 

 

 

 

‘ av plasther.

.Nick. Those fellows will come

‘ l ‘ their friends to the mercy of your knife.

‘I _ Kit Burt's Mask.

 

CHAPTER II.
THE BATTLE IN rim PASS.

Tm had hardly taken up their position when
the wild yells of the Navajoes rung through the
pass, and twent warriors appeared, charging

uriously throng the narrow space. The rifles
came u slowl . surely, the blue eyes flashed

‘along t e leveed tubes, and a double crack

broke the silence of the deserted place. The
two leading savages leaped ug in their saddles,
‘their spears fell from their ands, and their
horses, tri htened by the sudden discharge,
turned an dashed back among the Indians,
throwing them into momentary confusion, and

_ giving the Irishmen time to reload.

When .the rifles were again ready, scarcely
twenty gards intervened between the two brave
men an their save. 5 assailants, but, as before,
the headinost men e11 in their tracks, dead be-
fore they struck the earth. At the outset there
had been but twenty of the Navajo band, and
the were not now guided by a chief, as all who
couhd claim that title had gone down in the first
rus

“Whoop!” cried Nick. “Tare an’ ages, but
we’ll whop the divils now! I’m good for tin av
thim in this place, an’ be the same token, Ned,
ye can wallop the rest. Revolvers, now.”

Their “Colts” were ready, for at this time
that weapon was the leading arm of its kind.
Sheltering themselves behind the bowlders
which guarded the s, these gallant men he-
gun to our hot fire into the ranks of the aston-
ished ndians, who, knowing of the revolver,
began to fear that they had been mistaken in
the number of their enemies..and fell back in
great confusion, leaving eight of their number
upon the sod.

” Whillalool murther, and wh r w’u’d ye die?”
howled Nick dancing wildly to and fro behind
the rocks. “ We've b ate thim, be the powers av
mud. Glory til the revolvers; it’s themselves can
do it, Ned, alanah.”

‘ ~“ Hold yourself in, Nick," said Ned, laughing.
“ You are not at Donnybrook now, you know."
“Faith, and Donnybrook was a fool to this

- lace acnshlal ’Deed an’ we broke some hid’s,

ut the sorta a wan we c’u’dn’t mind wid a hit

But, look-seal It’s scalps an’

glory ye git here wid no allowance. Whoop;
’11: like to go In wid glory.”

“ We are not done with them vet. my brave
back, for they
are only consulting now, and will never leaike all

cop
out of sight, Kara; we might get a flight of ar-
rows.”

She made a silent gesture of disdain, for he
had spoken the last sentence in the Indian
tongue, in the use of which he was an adept.

“ Why should Kara live if she can die by a

I Navajo arrow? She is outcast from the great

tribe. She will never see herchild again—let

. her die l”

“If ye talk that way an more, heme sowl
yo‘ll make me angry,” roar Nick. “ Didn’t I
promise ye that ‘ get the b’y for ye? What
in'w'e d’ye want?"

" The wa to the Navajo village is long, and . \veapo '
may Warriors on the path. Tail ,1 O‘Connor dropped his hand. tor it was not in all

there Will

 

Pine  very brave, but what is be against so
man

“ owl 0’ me body, Ned, but that’s a fine name
she gev me. Tall Pine' it’s right ye are, mavour—
neen, but ‘long ghost w’u’d be betther. Look
out, now; thim divils are going to make a charge
on fut.” ‘

Even as he spoke, the Indians sprung from
their saddles. picketed their horses, and taking
their weapons, began to steal slowly toward the
month of the pass, concealing themselves as
much as possible behind the pines. As twelve
of them yet remained, the odds were ver much
in their favor if they forced their way into the
pass, and Nick saw the danger.

“ Shoot close now, Ned, as ye iver shot in
yer life. We must thin thim out before they
come up til us.”

They found this extremely difficult to do. The
Indians were very watchful, stealing from cover
to cover with such caution that it was next to
impossible to get a shot at them, yet four were
sent limping hack to the horses before they got
Within pistol-shot. The number now was re
duced to eight—fearful odds yet, if they dared
to charge, but they are crouching under cover
of the bushes, trying to get up their courage to
the charging paint, and each man courteonsly
leaving it to another to lead, a position of un-
common danver. But the sight of their com-
panions, cumbering the gory sod, maddened
them, and they sprun out together. separating
as much as possib e to istract the aim of their
enemies. ‘

Four shots were fired in all before they closed,
and every bullet had its mission: They now
stood four against two, and the Indians who re-
mained were strong-limbed, brawn fellows,
hideously painted, and thirsting for b 00d.

O’Connor was not the man to care for such
small odds, and his voice had a joyous peal as he
sprung to meet the coming savages, with no
i ther weapon than a great club which he whirl-
ed about his head wit the grace and skill which
he had learned long since at the Irish fairs.
Dangerfield was not far behind him, only be
rushed into the combat with a. pistol and knife.
As they closed he fired the last remaining cham-
ber of the revolver, causing a savage to come
crushing to the earth, and rushed in, but too
late to be of any service to Nick, who, more
fleet of foot than he, had already closad.

“Talk of Donnybrook Fair!" he yelled.
“ Whoop! Take that, ye painted ha then!"

Vain was the interposition of the hives and
hatchets of the Indians. The first went down,
his skull crushed like an egg-shell: the Second re-
ceived a kick in the stomach'which sent the
breath completely out of his body, while the
third had time to strike once with the hatchet,
and Nick. engaged With the others, had no time
to arrest the blow. Se saw it coming, and
thought his last hour h come, when something
whizzed past his ear, and he saw the ferocious
countenance of the Indian change its expression
to one of agony. The feathered shaft of a broad
arrow was seen protruding from his bronze
breast. Twicethe Nava o essayed to raise his
n, but his strengt was going,'aud Nick

 

 

 

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

  
   
    
   

Kit Burt’s Mack.

 

 

hatu re to strike a man who had already received
his death-wound.

The hatchet fell from the grasp of the savage;
he clutched at the bloody clot‘h upon his bosom,
and, with a wild or of rage and defiance. the
la st of the wild bun lay dead at the feet of the
giant scout.

Who had killed the red brave? Turning his
head quickly in the direction from which the ar-
row had come, Nick saw Kara leaning upon her
strung bow, looking sadly at the dying man. 'It
was her hand had saved the life of the brave

scoutl

“ Well shot, Kara!” he cried. “ It’s little Nick
O’Connor would have to say in life if the arrow
had not been true. My 1i e isn’t worth much,
but av ye pl’ase I’d rather kape it a while longer.

Thank ye, Kara.” " -

“ It IS done now,” said Kara, sadly. “ The
wife of Adanta is doubly outcast, for she has
shed the blood of a Navajo'and yonder warriors
know it.”

“ Ha!” cried Nick. “I forgot the divils that
wint back to the horses. Come on, Ned."

He darted awa , closely followed by his friend,
but the wounde men had taken the alarm and
were already in the saddle, and, as the saw the
Irishman advancing, whirling hIS club n the air,
they ur ed their horses in rapid flight and disap-
peared own the pass.

“ Now, Kara,” said Dangerfield, as they came
back. “ where are your husband and his people?”

“ Kara does not know. This place is no longer
safe for the white men, for Adanta will not rest
gun] ,he has your scalps. Fly while there is yet

ime.

“ I don’t like the notion av bein’ druv out av
my own place by a lot av painted haythens,”
grumbled Nick. “ Let’s stay, an’ sure we can
make the purtiest fight ye iver h’ard tell av. I
niver thought to run away like a big thafe.”

“It would be foolhardy to remain,” said
Qangerfield. “ No; get your tra together and
let us make a new camp. Doubt ess you know
many such in these mountains.”

“A few,” replied Nick. “Go an’ look afther
the thra s yourself.o Sure there’s three hunthred
dollars’ worth av hairon thim Injuns, an’ I’m
the b’y to lift it. It’s yersilf have the squeamish
stomach about scalpin’, N .”

“ Do your heathenish work if on must,” said
Ned, With a look of disgust. “ t is a horrible

practice.”
“ What is sass for the 0099 is alsosass fur the
ganther,” said Nick. “ ure an’ that party hair

av yours w’u’d be ban ‘n’ in a Navajo girthle
this minnit av ye didn’t ght like a divil. They
take our hair, we take them. It’s an even thing,
I does he thinkin ."
“ Come, Kara,’ said Ned, willing to spare her
the sight, “ let'us look after the wounded man.”
He was mistaken Kara, however. She had
been bred in the belief that to the victor belong
the spoils, and would have considered Nick
O’Connor 9. very foolish man if he had not taken
the scalps of the fallen. Yet she followed Dan-
. gfirfield obediently, and they reached the spot
where the white man who had been pursued by
the sav es had fallen senseless to the earth.
_He h recovered enough to raise himself on
his elbow and watch the fight with keen interest.

 

and now that it was over was‘engaged in stanch-
ing the blood which flowed from his wounded
side. Occu ied in this wa he did not notice the
a preach 0 Ned Dange eld until he was very
c ose at hand, when he raised his head quickly
and rested bun with a smile.

“ ell done, sir; well and bravely done,” he
said. “ I give you my word that I never saw a 
better Indian fight in my life, and there are few ' .
spots in the Indian country which my 6 as have '-
not rested on at one time or another. al'is not F
that woman Kara, the wife of the chief Ada.an i

“ Yes; do you know heri” .

“ I know all Navajnes," replied the man, _
quietly. “They have done me a bitter wrong
andl will never leave their trail until Ihavo
done my work.”

“ What is your work?”

“ When I have killed a hundred Navajoes with»
my own hand, then only will I be content. But
I am wasting time and we must get out of this.
Hel me to bandage this hurt. if you please.” 

T a wound was in his side, and nta nee. -
Dangerfield saw that it had been -made you Q,
arrow, which had glanced along the ribs. cut- . '
ting a deep gash. It was the loss of 100d 
which had caused him to fall, for the we d in _,.
itself was not necessarily dangerous. Danger-
field having had much experience inwounds 
quickly dressed the hurt and made the wounded ' H
man comfortable. This done, he roie,though* 
somewhat unsteadily, and picked up the rifle ‘ >
which had fallen to the earth. * " H

“ What have you in that canteen!" he asked. ’

“ Brandy,” said Dangerfield. “ Drink; it
will do you cod.” . 

“ I must ave strength or I would not touch , 
it,” said the stranger. “ Ah. the fiery liquor \ 3.
does go to the spot, after all. There, take it, . -.
and tell me what you think of me.” 1 '

It was a stran question, and Dangerfield .
looked closely at h 5 guest. In bight there was  ~ 1
little difference between them, but the frame-of . , ‘.
the wounded man was a mass of sinews and :5,-
cords, and there was a cat-like grace in his jg
movements which betrayed the possession 'of 
great activity as well as bodily strength. Ell 

ace was browned by exposure, where t was n
covered by his thick brown beard. His h
was of the same color, and his eyes, full of fire,» ,
beamed upon the face of Ned Dan erfield. r " ‘ ' 1

“You are a man,” he said, uiet y. . 4 5

“ So is that big scout, and ampo baby my- 1,.
self. We three together might make warm; '
work for the Navajoes.” ‘ '

“ We might.” ,

“ Now, let us understand each other. I know
what you eek in these mountains. ‘Youl
for the hidden treasure of the Navajoes-e-the‘;
valley in which they find their gold.” .

‘ How know you this?” I

“ Pshaw, can we waste time in telling, You,
seek riches: I seek revenge. Your quest will’
take you into the Navajo country—sown] mine. 1
As for gold, if you find it take it, for the drown
is nothing to me. There was a time, indeed,~
when I sought it, but the incentivetolabmlsj
gone from me forever, and now I am a lonely,
man. only seeking revenge upon that hated race '
the Navajocs.” ~

“What have they done to you?” ‘

 
  
  
   
  
  
   
   

 

 

.2'

3.. _,

 

 

 

9'."

 

 

“‘9‘”

.3. a" emf-B5},

 

‘One of the captured horses“.

 

e" “ Kit Burt’s Mask.

 

“Do you ask me that?” he cried. wildly.
“‘ They have robbed me of all that made life
sweet—the noblest, bravest man, tender and
loving women! I shall go mad if I think of it.
What say you. are we friends?"

“If you will. Can you show us a safe place
for a cam p?” -

“ I have hunted these hills for six years, and
ought to 'know. Why is this woman with
you

“ She has been cast out by her husband for
attempting to aid in the escape of a white pris-
oner.

“ She killed that red fiend bravely,” said the

. stranger, “ I can for ive her Navajo blood for

the act. She is not a Indian, though. Her
filothpr was a Mexican girl, stolen from Chihua-
ua.

“ You seem well posted.”

“ I have made the N ava'oes my study for
years,” was the answer. “ a! bear the Indian
81%!!51“ It is time we were away.”

‘ hortly after they rode awav, Kara mounted
Nick concealed his
hideous trophies in his ample side-pockets, as he
rode. '

 

CHAPTER III.
‘ THE DEAD SENTINELS.
THE scene of the late conflict was desolate.
Nothin living remained—only the gory dead,
strip of the trophy of victory, the scalp-lock.

I r _ The buzzards came down to the feast, the coyote

came loping through the pass, and the obscene
beasts and birds held high carnival.

Suddenly the wolves scattered, the buzzards
rose-up on heavy wings and soared away; the
tramp of horses was heard within the Ian, and
a glittering band, in all the grand disp ay of In-
dian flner , came down the narrow pass, their
spear-hes s and ornaments glittering in the
sun. At their head rode Atlanta, the warrior-
chief 'of the Navajoes and as his eyes rested
upon that bloody battle-field, even his natural
stoicism was put to the test. ,

On that field. torn by wolf and buzzard,

a scalpless gor . layafavorite brother, a man
' whose p ace

n the tribe was onl eigualed by
that of Adanta—known as a skil fu warrior,
and one who never went back in the face of dan-
er. . V .
g “See!” he said. “ The white dogs have done
their work. and our brothers are dead. Speak,
Nemotekal” he cried, addressing one of the
wounded men, who had escaped. “Who has

“ Tall Pine was here,” replied the man, “ when

done this?”
'» the Navajoes took the trail .of the white hunter,

who was wounded by an arrow, and if Tall

vPiue had not stopped the way he would have
‘ fallen into our hands.”

“There were others: Tall Pine alone could

, not beat twenty Navajo braves.”

“Another young white warrior was with

him, who fought bravely. ~ They had short guns.
‘ and every one held

many bullets. Only four
braves were left to fight with the white war-
riors when they reached the lain. There was
one more who fought, and w oee arrow killed

Nadara, the great brave. Shall I speak the
name?”

 

“ Let the warriors hear it."

“Nadam’s hatchet was above the head of
Tall Pine. A blow, and the great scout was
dead, but an arrow pierced Nadara‘s breast,
and he fell.”

“ Au arrowl Who let the arrow fly? Speak
before I strike you dead,” cried Adanta.

“Kara loosed the shaft; Kara, the wife of
Adantal” re lied the Navajo.

A perfect owl of any and rage burst from
the savage band,an Adanta dismounted and

turned ‘over the bodies until he came to the one -

who had fallen by Kara’s arrow. The shaft
was still protrudin from his breast, and Adapts.
drew it out and 100 ed earnestly u on it.

“ Warriors and chiefs,” he crie , in a rin ‘ng
voice, “ Nemoteka has spoken true words. his
is the arrow of Kara, the Navajo Queen, the
woman who has been my Wife. See; I have
cast her out forevar. Henceforth, he who finds
her shall bring her captive to the Navajo vil-
lage if he can; if not, let her die the death she
deserves. Adanta has spoken the doomof the
woman whom he knows no more.”

A murmur of assent assed among the war-
riors, for they recogniz the justice 0 the doom
he had decreed. From this time it would not be
well for Kara to meet a Navajo brave upon the
mountain or plain, for her fate was sealed. At
the orders. of their chief a eat trench was
soon u with knives, hatc ets and hands in
the side 0 the ravine, and the bodies of the‘slain
laid to rest. Over them they built a rocky
cairn, so firm that the coyote could not dig up
the bodies. Having done this the rode away
upon the track of the Slayers. Igor some dis-
tance the trail was plain, and then it suddenly
ceased in a place where the bottom of the valley
was literally floored with smooth, white rocks,
so hard that they did not take any impression
from the unshod boots of the horses.

From the sides of the pass, narrow gorges led
up into the mountains, any one of which might
have been taken by the fugitives. Adanta halt-
ed his men and sent one up each of the passes
with orders to give a signal cry if' they foun
the trail.

Half an hour passed and the scouts came
back from all the passes save one, and re rred
that they had seen nothing. Two more raves
were sent up this remaining pass toflnd the
missing scout, and ten minutes after, a long,
low, tremulous cry was borne on the windto
their waiting ears—the cry which they well un-
derstood.
f£1‘hgy had found the scalped body of their
r en .

The Navajoes sprung into the saddleasone
man, and rode up the pass for some distance,
when they came it n the two braves last sent
out, Seated upon t eir horses at the foot ofa
great tree, lookin down upon the dead form of
the red scout. e had been slam byeblow
from a hatchet, his scalp was gone, and his
bare bosom bore a strange mark, evidently
slashed with a knife, a six-pointed star. It was
needless to tell the Navajoes \what this meant,
for hardly one amongthem but had seen one of the
tribe dead 11 n the trail,‘ with this strange
mark upon his breast. It was made by draw-
ing a triangle with the sharp point of the knife,

 

i
l a
l
l
“J

v
I
l
.
I

 

 

 

Kit Burt’s Mask. - a.

 

and then a second triangle inverted. The
knew the mark too well, the sign of the “ Deat
Man of the Navajoes," for no other tribe was
slain by his hands, or bore this dread mark.

“ The Death Man is indeed in the mountains,”
said Atlanta, without a change of countenance.
“ It is well; we have one more death to avenge.
Bury him, sons of the Navajoes, and then we
will follow this trail to the end.”

The work was soon done, for they laid him in
a rocky cleft and piled the stones high above
him, and went on their way again. The nature
of the ground changed again, and descended
into a soft bottom, through the mist of which
ran a mountain stream, clear as crystal, flowing
from east to west. At a lance Atlanta saw in
the bri ht sand ‘at the ttom the marks of
horses’ eet going westward.

“Ha!” he cried; “the white dogs think to
blind the eyes of a great chief. Let the warv
riors follow, and we shall soon hang their scalps
upon e. 1e.”

“An what will the great chief do with
Kara, who is with them?” asked the next chief
in command. I

“Atlanta does not know her. If there is a
woman among them who has aimed an arrow at
the breast of a great chief and has slain Nadara,
the bravest of the brave a bright fire shall be
lighted for her in the fiavajo village. Have I
spoken well?”

The chief inclined his head and looked but
ill-pleased. He was an ambitious man and
hoped that Adanta’s love for Kara might lead
him to do something which would bring him into
bad repute with the Navajoes, but the acute
head chief knew better than that.

Their course led them through a rocky can-
yon, over a shinin sand whic was so hard
that the horses’ eet made little impression
upon it where the water was so hallow that
it hardly rose above the fetlocks. The tracks
of the horses were still plainly to be seen, and
it was quite evident had not been lon made
gr the rapid stream would have oh 'terated

em.

“ Tall Pine has lost his cunning, or has be-
come a fool,” said Adanta, “ or he would know
that he cannot go far b thisstream. It is good;
revenge is near at han .”

They pushed on rapidly, but the water did not
deepen, although the channel was now somewhat
obstructed by the bowlders which had rolled
down the mountainside. As they came on, the
splashing of water could be heard, and they
knew that some animals were struggling in the
stream below.

“ Hal" cried Atlanta. “ Do you hear that,
Navegoes'i We have them. They cannot es—

ca ’

Jfilmy pushed on rapidly, but, rounding the
point of rocks they found that the fugitives had
alread passed the next turn. The savages now
push on eagerly, for they Were wild to avenge
their slaughtered friends. when, reaching the
next turn, they saw just before them, huddled
against the rocky wall, u n the brink of a
mountain cascade, four derless horses. At
first they thou ht that the whites were crouch-
ing behind the arses, waiting for them to ad-
vance, but a moment’s scrutiny convinced them

 

of the delusion. The walls rose upon each
side of the stream to the hight of nearly a
hundred feet, and it was impossible for even a ‘
mountain goat to climb them. Besides, there '
was no hiding-place in which they could have
ensconced themselves, and Atlanta saw that he
was tricked.

The scouts, fearing that they mightbe hard

~grassed, had deserted the horses, turned their

ends down-stream and left them to pursue '
their own course, w ' e they had taken another . ' ‘
route on foot.

If their plan had been to gain time they had
certainly succeeded. Words are inad note to
paint the wild rage of Adanta as he ran mod the
trick, and after a few moments' search, to m
Vince himself beyond a doubt that their enemies
were not hidden near at hand, they turned back,
and ushed their horses as much as possible to
reac the spot where they had commenced to
follow the false trail. , l .

More than two hours had been lost when they
recovered the trail, and it was now late in the
afternoon. The whites had gone up a d
gully, close to the bank of the stream, where
would be impossible to follow them on horse-
back, and for a moment Atlanta hesitated. But
his mind was soon made up. Selecting forty of
his best man, he left the rest in char 9 of the
horses, and ordered them to make or a gull ‘ ,
which led into the main track tothe Nova 0 
village, and to remain there until he returned.  1
They rode away at once, leaving Atlanta _
with his forty men, armed onl with bows, V .3
hatchets and knives, upon the ban of the little \ 

stream. v

“ Brothers,” said Atlanta, “ we have a great
work before us, and we must see tort that we do '
it well. Who is there amen us so base that he
will dare toreturn to the avajoes and say:
‘Nadara is dead; Menthako and Hando sleep
without their scalps; many other brave warriors
have lost their livas, and a hundred Navajoes
were notenough tohunt down the murderers?
Dare we do this?” \

A dissent was made in the usual Indian
fashion. All clashed their hatchet- together,
whirled their knives in the air, and vowed to
folio: the trail if it led them into a white settle-
men . . ‘

They took the trail at once, Atlanta leading.
It led them into secret 3 among the moun- '
tains, of which they ha known nothing show. .,
ing that the white leader was amen who had \ 
long made his dwelling in that desolate ace.
Night came on; the meal had been con uded.
guards were set, and the rest lay down upon the . . [5
soft verdure of the plateau, and were quickly .
as ea . .V , ,

Atpthe midnight hour those amintedton-
lieve the guard arose and look aboutthem. .,
The warriors they were torelieve were not in ~ "
sight, and they stole softly out to their posts.
The men they sought were lying upon the soft ,
grass, seemingly asleep and they would not -
awake them, although t e knew that Atlanta
would kill any brave wit his own hand who
had been found sleeping on his post. Each man
took his tation, and watched better than the
others had done, and rhaps mi ht have done 
so until morning, he not oneo the seminal '

 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
  

As... mm.»
\

 

 

 

3 Kit Burt’s Mask.

attem d to arouse his sleepin comrade. The
man id not stir, and the ot er struck him
sharply with his foot without eliciting any sign
of awakening. Becoming angry at this conduct,
he stooped and shook him roughly, when he be-
came conscious that his hand was wet with
something too thick and slimy for dew. Rais-

- inghis hand in the moonlight, he saw that it

an.

. hand before the eyes of.

came back
doubted for a moment what his fate had been.

was stained with gore.

His startled cry aroused the sleeping camp,
and they crowded about him, each with his
weapons ready, expecting nothing less than a
night attack. Adanta was among the first to
reach the side of the man whohad given the

alarm.
' “Who calls?" he cried. “Why are the war-
riors called from their rest?”
'The man did not speak but held up his bloody
the chief.

“Blood! Whose is it?”

The guard pointed to the man at his feet, and
a dozen hands seized and dragged the sleeper
more into the li ht. As the moon-rays fell full
upon hise breast every one started up,
and lifted his weapons, looking wildly about, as
if he dreaded some sudden danger.

There was good cause. The man at their feet
was dead, his scalp torn from his head, although
he had no wound upon him which could have
caused death. But the impress of iron fingers
were on his throat and upon his naked breast
they saw the mark of the Death Man of the
Navajoes.

The destroiver had been among them, Who
was next to all?

CHAPTER IV.

_ m MYSTERY on THE MOUNTAIN.

ADANTA was a brave man, but these mysteri-
ous deaths for a‘moment unmanned him. Cries
were heard from the other posts, and hurrying
to the spot, they found two more gor bodies,
with the same mark upon the gash bosom.
Who was this man, who came and went like a

 shadow, leaving a track of blood behind him?

Why did he strike at the Navajoes and at none
rs

othe

“ Evbrothers,” said the chief, “ we see plainly
that t 6 Mad Spirit follows us. and that only by
constant watchfulness can we succeed. If. our
hearts are strong and our eyes open we will
carry the Death Man to the Navajo village and
burn him at a slow fire.” '

“ Fools i” cried a clear, sonorous voice. “ The
Mad Spirit was not born to be slain by a Navajo.
Follow, ye who dare l”

A dozen warriors accepted the challenge, and

grasping their weapons hounded away in the

direction of the voice. They broke through the
line of sage-bushes and searched everywhere
with but ill success. Search where the would
the Death Man was not to be seen, an of the
twelve warriors who followed him. onl eleven
, and not one among the avajoes

When morning broke they found him lying

the blood-stained grass, with the mark of
slayer upon his breast.

A strange tenor fell upon the hand. There

was not a man among them who was not ready

toface death in open battle, but this mysterious

 

being and his bloody work filled them with awe.
They looked in each other’s faces in dread, won-
dering whose turn would come next.

Adanta was the first to recover his presence of
mind. That subtle warrior was as much in
doubt as any, but he knew that it would not do
to show his companions that he feared; so he
ordered them to find the trail and follow the
man of whom they Were in search. It still led
up the mountain, higher and higher into the
desolate passes, endin suddenly in a wild glen
under a massive wal of rock, rising grandly
above their heads.

Adanta stared about him in confusion and
dismay. There was the trail which he had fol-
lowed; where the man wbo had incurred his
vengeance? He smote his hands fiercely to
gather and ran 11 and down the narrow glen
looking for the ost trail. He looked in vain,
for the bare brown rocks did not give a Si .

“ It is the work of the Mad Spirit,” d one
of the braves, in a hollow whisper. “ The sun.
god is angry with us because we would lay our
hands upon one who has been touched by his

fln er.”
58i1encel” cried the chief flercel . “Would
you return to the villages of the ava'oes and

say, ‘We feared the hand of the Des. h Man

and turned back like cowards from the trail?‘
Are the Navajoes blind? Search for the trail; it
must be near at hand.”

A burst of mocking laughter was the only re-
giy to this speech, coming from the rocky wall

side them. So close was it, that the savages
bounded back as one man and grasped their
wea ns, expecting a shot, but, after the first
lau , not a sound was heard.

“ he Mad Spirit is makin sport of the Na-
vajo .wan'io ," said the we or who had spoken
before. ' “ t us turn back while there is time,
before the lightning of the sun’s wrath shall
consume us.”

Adanta‘ snatched a hatchet from his belt and
turned his flaming eyes upon the speaker. The
warrior shrunk back appalled, bravo as he was,
before the terrible gaze of the chief. For a mo-
ment his life hung in the balance, and but that he
returned the of the chief boldly, he would
have been ki ed on the spot.

“ Let Adanta strike," was the reply. “I will
not go back.”

The chief hurriedly replaced the hatchet and
put both hands upon the breast of the young
warrior. His countenance had lost its fierce
glare and an expression of the deepest joy show-
ed itself in his e es. .

“Itisf " 9 said. “Wanantooisindeed
the son 0 Nader-a, and Adanta is proud to call
him a friend. Is the leart strong, and will the
warrior do the will of his chief?" .

‘ Wanantoo is ready. If he would have turn-
ed back it was to save the life of Adanta, who
is the” prop upon which the Navajo nation
eans.

“ Look up, Adanta,” cried a voice above them.
 up, chiefs and warriors of the great

All started as the clear, musical voice fell
upon their. ears, and obeyed the summons
Upon the great k, a. hundred feet above
them, kneeling upon he verge and looking down

 

Kit Burt's Mask.

 

at them, was Kara, the beautiful wife of Adanta.
Her black hair floated back about her beautiful
form, her eyes were flashing, and for a moment
they stood ~spell-bound by the majesty of her
presence.

“ Hearken to me, Adanta' hear, chiefs and
warriors] Why do you follow upon a trail
which can only end in blood?"

“ Look, Wanantoo!” cried Atlanta, “this is
the wicked one who launched her arrow into the
breast of Nadara, your father. Why should we
listen to her wicked words? Up, and cast her
govgi’among us, that we may tear her limb from

m

“ Stop i” cried Kara. “ Before you lift'a hand
against me hear the words which I speak. A
great woe coming upon the reat tribe, if ye
turn not back upon the trz'il. be hand of the
sun- 0d has already been heavy upon you, and
it w: fall with greater weight unless you go
away. Kara loves the great tribe still—she
loves her husband and would not see him die.
Turn back then, while the time is yours, and do
not tempt your fate."

Wanantoo was already searching for some
place where he could scale the rocks and reach
the speaker, but the wall was nearly perpendic-
ular; he could not find a footing anywhere, and
£9 shook his clinched hand at the woman above

im.
“Killer of brave men?" he cried, “ wait until
the hand of Nadara’s son can reach you, and
you die." ,

“Think not of vengeance, Wanantoo,” said
Kara, sadly. “Your father fell fighting, and
it was well that he died.”

In a fur at the impossibility of reaching the
woman W cm he hated, Wanantoo snatched his
bow from his back and began to fit an arrow to
the string.

“ Beware !” she cried.
to death.”

He persisted, and began to raise the bow to-
ward the immovable figure upon the rock. The
bright point of the arrow was glittering in the
sun-rays, when a. muffled report was heard with-
in ten foot of the place where he stood. The bow
dropped from his extended hand, the look of
rage was fixed forever upon his face, and,
throwing up both hands, he fell prostrate upon
the rocks. His friends ran to lift him, and as
they did so a dark stream of blood dropped out
upon the stones.

He was shot through the heart and was dead.
Even Adanta, bold as he was, fell back ap allerl
at thism sterious death. From whence ad it
come! The sound .which they had heard was
hardly like the discharge of a rifle and yet the
wound in his breast was made from a bullet
from a twisted bore. Kara had not moved, but
was gazing down upon them in the same way, a
sad look upon her face.

“ I warned him,” she said: “the next hand
that takes a bow shall never draw how—string
again. Take my warning and depart."

There was not a man among them hardy
enough to touch a weapon after this warning,
but Adanta spoke:

“ Woman of the bad heart!" he cried, “look
upon your work. A brave man lies dead, who
but for you would 'be living tofight for the great

“You are very near

tribe. Woe to you when you fall into the hands
of Adanta, and he will never rest until that work
is done."

The warriors took up the body of the slain
brave and carried it slowly down the pass.
Adanta went last, and as he passed out of si ht
turned a look upon his wife, and saw her 8 ill
kneeling upon the rocks, looking after him with
unutterable love in her dark eyes.

A moment more and he was gone, and stood
sullcnly by while the warriors laid the body of
Wauautoo in a crevice, and covered it up with
loose stones.

This done, he gave them a sign to follow and
taking another path, began to climb toward the
Elace where he had seen Kara, followed by all

is braves.

They traversed the broad plateau from side to
side, vainly seeking for some sign, but were at
last forced to give up in despair.

“ The spirit of the rocks has given he] to
Kara,” said the chief, despondingly. “ at
shall be done, warriors of the Navajoes?”

The braves looked at each other in doubt and
amazement. Naturally superstitious, they felt
that they were fighting shadows, but, warned by
the fate of Wanantoo, none of them dared pro-
pose a retreat. although each man felt that it
was an utter impossibility for them to succeed.

“ Shall we turn back'!’ demanded the chief.
“ It is no disgrace to yield when the mountain
spirits fight against us; and why should we
leave our braves on the hills, slain by enemies
we cannot see?”

The warriors eagerly accepted the plan, and
began to file slowly down the mountain-side.
As they passed along, Adanta struck with his
foot is small stone which Is in the path and it
rolled aside, showing a dar opening in the earth
below. Quick as thought he stooped and ap-
plied his ear to the aperture, and could hear the
murmur of voices far below. Grasping the de-
tached stone he uickly replaced it, while the
warriors looked at im in surprise.

“ Come about me,” he said, in a low tone.
“We are not beaten yet, for the men we seek
are here in the heart of the mountain. Let us
search for the mouth of the cave.”

They scattered again over the broad plateau,
and as before were unsuccessful in their search.
Adanta thought of a new plan, and called in his
in

cried in a loud voice. “ Why should we onger
fight with the spirits of the hills!”

The band trooped down the mountain-side.
man by man, and disappeared in the narrow
glens. When the sound of footsteps had died
away, and silence reigned in the place, there
came a grating sound, and ahuge bowlder which
lay u n the lateau, swung round a little,
enoug to admit the {isssage of a man‘s body. A
moment more and ick Q’Connor appeared
upon the plateau. ‘ .

CHAPTER V.

A LIVING DEATH.

THE giant scout crept carefully to the verge
of the rocks and looked over. Not an enemy

 

was in sight and no sound was heard, and he 

81]. o
“ We will go back to the Navajo villa e,” be

     
    
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
  
   
 
  
 
 
 
   
    
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
  
 
 
 
    
  
    
   
    
  
   
  
   
 
    

 

. Kit Burt, angrily.
‘ and no man has the right to kill him until I give

 

' 10 . Kit Burt's Hank.

 

'  to think that the foe had indeed given up
a

battle and departed.

“ Whoop!” said Nick, in a subdued tone.
" Come out av that, ye divils; come out, I say!
Be the big1 horn spoon, but we’ve fooled the
thaives aft er all.”

, The others were now heard clambering up the
sides of the opening, Dangerfield turning to as-
sist Kara in t e ascent. There were tears in her
bright eyes as she appeared, and the volatile
Irishman looked at her pityingly.

“Och, the divil fly away wid the man that
w’u‘d make such a (party craychure graive.” he
said. “Niver min him, at all, at all, Kara:
it’s little luck or grace he’ll have, or inny man
that-w’ould be so mean as to thry to kill the likes
av e.

“y0h, shut up, Nick,” said Ned Dangerfield.
“You don’t suppose that she understands your
blamey, do you‘i What is the next move,
Mr. ———1 By the way, we don’t know what to
call on.”

“ me Kit Burt,” replied their new com-

'on. “An name will do for a man who

as severed al earthly ties, and who has but
one object in life. Call me Kit. and I will an-
swer." r
“ Very ,well then; what are we to do now?”
“ I am not fully satisfied that Adams is gone.
I believe that he suspects the secret of our re-
treat, and is on the watch for us somewhere.
What do you think. Kara?"

He repeated his opinion in the Indian tongue-
which he spoke like a native—and she answered
by a grave nod.

“Adanta is awise chief; if he has madea
vow to follow us to the end, he will keep it.”

« “You think that he is hiding somewhere
then?”

“,Adanta has eyes like the eagle. He hates
my white brothers and no longer loves oor
Kara. He will never give up the work unt' we

gsare dead or he is in the grave.”

“ Thin, be the powers, I wish I had nlled on
him whin I had him covered,” Nick roke in.
“ Serra come til him an’ the likes av him, but he
has the bad heart."

‘ “ Keep quiet, Nick ” commanded Dangerfield.
“There is no end to your blaruey when you
once t to work.” .

“Its yersilf have kissed the blarnlsy stone,
Masther Ned " protested Nick. That avajo is
a lopin' vaga he, an’ it w’u'd do his heart good
toputabalinhim.” '

‘ Listen, Tall Pine,” said Kara, laying her
hand upon his shoulder. “You have been a
good friend to Kara, and she loves you. Be
more her friend; promise not to kill my hus-

L‘ ,band, except to save your own life or to save a

an .
“, I don’t like to promise, acushla.”
, " Promise, or we are enemies,” she rsisted.
‘_ “ All right, me darlint! I prom so not to
hurt the murtherin’thafe, bad scran till him!"
“We are wasting time in idle talk,” said
“ As for Adanta, he is mine,

the word. Stay where .you are until I come
back.”
He took up his rifle and hurried away upon

the track at the Navajo band, the rifle on a

 

trail. Half an hour passed, when he came back
an a run, and bounded up the rocks toward
em.

“Into the cave, for your lives!“ he cried.
“ Adanta isherel”

He had scarcely spoken when the Indians, who
had made a circuit and come up in the rear of
the position, suddenly sprung up from behind
the rocks, while another party, who had con-
cealed themselves in one of the gullies, came
clambering us over the path by. which Kit Burt
had come, an the little party found themselves
hemmed in by a circle of savage faces. Fore-
most among them stood Adanta, a look of tri-
umph on his face.

“Adanta is here!” he cried, in a boasting
tone. “ Who is there among the whites can out—
wit the great war-chief?”

“Shtandl” cried Nick O’Connor. leveling his
rifle at the breast of the chief. “I've got ye
covored; I niver miss, an’ let a man raise hand
or fut among ye, an’ the chafe dies. D‘ye hear
that, now?”

Few among the NavajOes understood the
words of the speaker, but his actions were un-
mistakable. The flashing eyes. the threatening
weapon, and the commanding voice could mean
but one thing.

“Get down there i" exclaimed Nick, still
keeping his eye fixed upon the chief. “ Let
Kara go first, the little darlint. We’ll save her
or die thryin’ to do it.”

Kara descended first, Ned Dangerfield next,
but Kit Burt hesitated. He did not like to leave
the gigantic scout alone. But, after a momen-
tar hesitation, he went into the opening and
lai his hand 11 n the small stone" which
propped the bow der in its place. Nick. still
keeping his eye upon the chief,.retreated step by
step and dropped suddenly into the hole.

The eye and hand of Kit Burt were trained to
act quickly, and in the twinkling of an eye the
stone slid into .its place while the patter of
arrows upon its surface showed that they had
not been a moment too soon.

. There was a rough projection upon the lower
31119 of the stone. About this a lariat had been
wound tightly, and when held firmly below, no
prdinhary force couliii gave lthe stone. tigescend-
ngteopening uc y,cngingto ero ,
thev belayed the ariat about a projectlng rolhek
and breathed more freely. At least it would be
some time before their enemies could force their
way into the cave. I

It was not a large one—a simple cavity in the
rock formingaroom some eighteen or twenty
feet square, in which were some of the rude
appliances of frontier life. It was one of the
haunts of Kit Burt which he_had reached bfy
Eccliddent, and had since utilized in the Wild li e

e e .

“They know the way into this place.” said
Kit, “ and it won’t be lon before the force the
passage. but we can ma eit warm or any In-
dians who try to get down that narrow opening.
Load your revolvers, gentlemen; we mav need
their aid, and I am not in my usual condition.”

“ We must hide the woman somewhere.” said
Ned Dangerfield. “ They may take it into their
heads to roll stones down here."

In one corner 9: the room was a narrow slitin

 

   

 

Kit Burt’s Mask. ‘ u 

 

the rocks, from which a strong current of air
came up. This slit led downward for some dis-
tance and then seemed to terminate abruptly.
As it inclined at an angle of forty-five degrees,
it was easy of descent, and Kara, after some ob-
jections, went into the cleft, uhich Kit Burt
covered With a flat stone upon which he had
been accustomed to broil his meat.

“The red devils are working at the stone.”
said Nick. as their new friend came back.
“ Sorra fall on their heads. May they be cursed
from the crowns of their heads to the soles of
their fate. Wirra, wirra, to think av three
good men caught like rats in a trap l”

The Indians had made levers by bundling
together five or six spears wrapped tightly with
lariats. Insarting their extemporizeu levers in
a narrow opening, they pried up the stone a
little so that they could sce the rope. A hand
armed with a sharp knife now appeared and was
instantly shattered by a ball from a pistol in the
hands. of Ned Dangerfield, who quickly slipped
out the chamber and refilled it.

“ That fellow is here de combat.” he said,
quietly. "' Who comes next?”

Taught by experience that it was not safe to
thrust an arm into the aperture, Adanta fasten-
ed a knife upon a lance, and standin back out
of range, severed the lariat by a sing e cut. The
stone was now free. and nothing remained ex-
cept to roll it away from the opening and make
the attack. But, even this was not safe to do in
the face of such marksmen as those in the nar-
row chamber helow. After some consultation,
lariats were fastened to the rock, and by means
of these it was dragged away from the aperture,
leaving the passage clear.

. What more were they to do now? Adanta

was not the man to expose his braves needlessly,
and he knew that the desperate men below
would make the
before they would a. low themselves to be cap-
tured or slain. The passage would not admit of
the descent of more 'than three at a time, and
was some forty feet in depth, with very little
slant. Standing below, quite out of sight, the
besieged men could receive them one by one,
and kill them before they touched the floor of
the room. They seemed no nearer the end than
before.

“ Wh don’t on come oni".cried Kit Burt,
from be ow. “ 03 of a. Navajo, we are wait-
mg for you. Come and meet the death you de-
serve at our hands.”

Adanta answered by a about of defiance and
ordered his men to bring in bowlders as large
as the could lift and hurl t em down the open-
ing, he three defenders bounded toone side,
as stone after stone came crashing down strik-
in the walls and floor of the cavity with ter-
ri le force.

_ “ I ex tedthis.” said Ned Dangerfield; “ but
it will Wimpossible for them to como'down
.while this rock{ rain, continues.”

“The ’11 mp. earush in a moment," replied
Kit. “ latten yourselves against the rocks,
boys; I don‘t want any of you to get a broken
leg out of this businem. Look to your pistols;

mfiweapons are here.”
hatchet and knife which

_e touchedahea
hung in‘his belt,wi a but had

lace a very mausoleum '

 

hardly done so when another heav body came
down through the opening, and ell at length
upon the floor. - ‘
It was an Indian, who had come too ea orgy.
for, before he could rise, the hatchet o it
Burt fell, and the Indian lay motionless 11 ion
the rock. The Navajoes were now crow ing'
rapidly into the opening, and the pistolsbegun .
their terrible work. Man after man roll: d down
the inclined plane and fell motionless upon the
floor of the cave. To miss was im iossiblewvery
bullet found a mark, and the c ief ordered a
retreat, for he realized the impossibility of f9!(.‘-.
ing the passage in the faca of such men as these. -
A moment more and. none remained in the em
trance save one or two who had fallen in such
a way that the bodies could descend no further,
and the gory forms of those who lay at their
feet. ’ _ '1
Adanta was at his wits’ end. He had but lit— ;
tie experience in fighting the Anglo-Saxon race, " ‘
his battles having been with the Mexicans
whom it had been only sport to defeat. Out 0
his thirty-six men, six had been killed outright,
and as many more were so badly wounded as to
make them unfit for service. A glance at the
faces of the rest told him that if he 01 dated
them to descend into the cave again they would
refuse, even at the risk of death at his hands.

“ The dogs shall not escape ” he said, “ though 3 
the spears and arrows of the Navajoes are weak . :

against the short gun which 5 aks man times.
Let me speak to them, and t en we wfi do our.
work.”

He advanced as near as he dared to the mouth ,
of the cave and spoke:

“ The Navajoes want their dead. If we throw
down the end of a lariat, will the white‘ men
fasten the dead to it, one at a time, and send
them 11 i” , ,

“An moighty glad to get rid av them,” mut- »
tered Nick 0 Connor. “ Ye are welcome, honey:
as welcome as the flowers av May.”

iKit Burt answered the chief in the sflirma-‘,'. 7"

tive. ,

“ And are the Navajoes safe while they do this
work?” again demanded Adanta. ’ ~ ‘ '

“Yes, chief," replied Kit Burt speaking the
indium? language perfectly. “ éend down the.

riat.

The chief complied, and they dragged the first
body out of the hole and a universal bowl, of
rage burst from ever li as the dead Indian
came up seal (1. Nic ’Connor‘ was not the
man to lose is lawful re . Only two bodies
remained at last, those w ic lay in the avenge,
and none of the whites would come’out as en-
the rope to them. . ~
“ Come and get them for yourself, Adanta "
cried Kit Burt. “You shalant be harmed in
doing it.” ‘ i ’ l

The chief at once stepped into the passage
and sent up the two bodies.“ ‘ ‘ '

“Wait a moment.” said Kit Burt. “Letme . v
give an a word of warning. You have begs ',
spare again and again because your wife begs
‘us not to kill you, but we will not spare you
much longer. You had better go away at once,
and trouble us In nmxe.” v 

“We are going.” suid_ the Indian, quietly, ‘1
“ but Atlanta wants his wife." ‘

 

 

L

,.

%

 

‘1‘ ,.

.‘y‘ - to “I
Ii '
ii. filh .
_<-’vers. The horrible truth. became apparent to

    
  
 

 

 

 

‘ ', the .lily.

.  back,

 

 " Atlanta abo

 

 

mt nm. flask.

 

“You drove her away of your own free will,
and we will not give her up to you.”

“ Atlanta must have her,” said the chief, in a
tone of concentrated passion, smiting his hands
together. “ The Navajoes have much to thank
her for. Listen, while I speak. There is a
white girl among the Navajoes, a prisoner,
whose face is fair as the lily, and whose eyes are
blue as the waters of the lake Her hair is like
the sunshine, and her voice as, the music of
running water. Adauta will give her for
Kara.” ' '

“ A white girl?” cried Kit Burt, in a voice of
agony. “ Hal Do you know me then, red vil-
lain?" '-
“Adanta never forgets,” replied the chief,
“and he always keeps his word. Let Kara be
brought forth, and I promise on the word of a
man who never lies to send the white girl to
the fort, in the Apache pass before a moon has

“ Why do you want Kara?"

“She is my wife,” replied the chief, in the
same guttural tone. “ Let the white man get
hisown, and I will get mine.”

“ You don’t know the temptation, boys,” said
Kit Burt, in a thick tone. “ Go out of the pas-
sage and wait, chief; we will give our answer
soon. .

The chief quietly withdrew, and Kara came
out of her place of concealment.

“, I have heard the words of the white man,” .

she said. “ Kara knows that Adanta speaks the
truth. and that he has a white risoner, fair as
Tall Pine knows it, or he saw her
. with Adanta upon the mountain. Kara loved
'her, and would have taken her back to her peo-
ple, but the feet of the chief were swift in pur-
suit, and we were overtaken. See; Kara will
go back to her pie and die by their hands,

" that the white g rl may be happy.”

“Thin ma the divil fly away with me av Hie
do,” roared ick O’Connor. “ Phat d’ye t e
us for, anyway?”

“ Nick is right,” said the wild hunter, sadly;
“ right in every point. I would give ten ears
of my life to see this white risoner, if on y for
‘a moment, to satisfy a don t which has come
into to mind, but I fear it cannot be. Stand
ra; we will not 've you up.”

‘Kara remonstrated wit them, eager to sacri-
fice herself for the sake of those whom she loved,
but none of them would listen.

“ Let the white men give their answer,” cried
ve. ,

g “ No ” cried Kit Burt. “ We will not give up
this no le woman to your vengeance.”

“ Then die in your folly,” was the reply.-

“Work, sons of the Navajoes; seal them in a
living , vel” '
v The ' ndians now began to roll great stones in-
;Lassage, some ,of which began to lodge,
and n moment the place was so full of great
stones, wed ed Into the narrow space, that the
co work without fear of the revol-

the besieged men.~ They were to be shut u in

ill ‘ I. the cave and left to starve. They could ear

the rocks rattling down the sides of the cavity,

‘ i knew thatthe passage was ra )idly closing
. up, Whilethe triumphant shouts o the Indians

I

’ tunes 'in peace or ' war.

 

Ems more faintly to their ears as the heap grew
r er. .
hey looked in each other’s faces for a moment
hless horror. Ned Dangerfield was pale
th' the lip of the stout mountaineer trem-
bled, and Kara fell upon her face, but Kit Burt
stood erect, with his arms folded upon his breast.
The last stone was thrown upon the heap, an in-
distinct shout of triumph came to their ears, and
then a great silence followed.

They were brave men and did not dread death
more than others, but such a death as this,
cramped in that narrow spacein the heart of the
mountain, without food, without water—a lin-
gering, horrible fate beyond any torture of
which they had ever dreamed!

“ We are doomed,” whispered Dangerfield.
“ What can save us now?"

“ We are in God’s hands,” said Kit Burt. “Let
us trust in Him."

And they sat down to await as calmly as they
might their dreadful doom. ,

CHAPTER VI.
rm: NAVAJO VILLAGE.

THE scene shifts to one of the low mountain
ran es, and fifteen miles from the great Canyon
de helle. In a sheltered valley, betweeh the
ranges, a band of Navajoes had built up a vil-
lage. It must be understood that there are rich
men men the savages, who count their herds
by thousan 5. Such men gather about them a
large force of dependents, who follow their for-
. These chiefs are inde-
pendent, but in times of War, join their forces
against the common enemy.

The village to which we now draw attention,
contained, perhaps, four hundred lod es. These
were rudely built, as the wandering ife of the
tribe precludes the possibility of making more
finished structures. Poles are set up at the
corners; others are laid across to support a.
covering, and the sides filled up with stone or
wood piled up roughly but firmly, and fonning
rudehuts suited tothe rimitive tastes of thi
people. As in most exican-lndian villages,
the center of the village was a plaza or square,
in which most of the ceremonies of the Vibe
were performed.

Crowds of gayly-dressed women occupied the
plaza, chatting together very much as civilized
women mi ht have done. Their features are
regular, an there is a vivacity and s irit in all
their actions peculiar to the race. gums men
were sauntering about,'but most of them were
in the fieldshprding the great droves of animals
which belonng the village. _‘

Snddenly,,tar away in the distance, is heard
the sound -’ a horn, borne upon the passing
bhreeze. Phwoic‘eh ighain‘standtla
tearea'wi soun.,, a
aDCPanW thatfthe' r :2th ofthdyilla ,and
elected “wmhie ” the, tfibe,_the ighest
ofice [amen  , simple ’ -. a .is returning
from thep , as half w ~' ~
the ridges to the left glng _ _
and in a moment more the band’of A
pears, riding slowly toward i , ‘ e. Some-
thing in their manner shows , everything is
not right. When'did Adapts metal: from

ins

      
 
 

' : are seefi‘ ,3
danta ap-'

 

 

 

 

I ' ’ \

Kit Burt’s Mask.

  

 

the trail Without driving before him a drove of
horses and mules ca tured from the Mexicans?
But now it seem like a funeral processxon.
Not a sound is beard—not a shout is raised,
and the warriors hang their heads as if in
shame. '

A silence fell upon the village, and all gazed
in awe as the band rode into the plaza, and each
man set up his 5 or and shield at the door of
his dwelling. '1‘ en for the first time they real—
ized how thin the ranks were and how many had
fallen in the desperate combats of the last few
days. The women crowded about the warriors,
eager to hear what had been done with'their
friends, but Adanta lifted his hand for silence,
and then spoke: ' I '

“Hear, ye wives of the Navajoes' hear all
who had friends and brothers in this nd. If
those friends, brothers, husbands, lovers, are not
with us, you will see their faces no more. I can-
not speak; my heart is very full.”

A ow, mournful wail was heard rising from
the crowd of women, which rose and swelled
with a solemn sound upon the summer air.
Adante again raised his hand.

“ Let me tell you who is to blame for all this.
Children of the Navajoes, Kara, the bad woman
who cre t into the heart of Adanta and had a

. warm p ace there. has done this wickedness. ‘She

was

alone is toblame.”

“ Aha!” screamed a toothless bag, as the chief
spoke. “ Kara, the beautiful: Kara, the queen
of the village, who laughed at old age and trod
upon the necks of the poor. Where is she, that
we may tear her limb from limb?”

“ Kara is not with us,” replied Atlanta. “ She
has found friends to fight for her, who hid in
the heart of the mountain, where many of our
braves were slain. We filled u the door by
which they entered and left t em there to
starve.”

Cries of delight burst from the women who
had lost friends, but there were some sad faces
among the younger women of the tribe, with
whom Kara was a favorite.

“ Gan-o-tee,” said the chief, addressing a
white-haired man who stood near, “ Adanta has
no longera wife. There is no one to kee the
lodge-fire bright in his dwellin . See; my and
is open, and in it I hold a bun red horses and a
hundred sheep such as you may choose. Take
them. and send to the lodge of Atlanta, Marah,
the daughter you love. Is Gan-o-tee content?”

“Gan-o-tee is satisfied,” replied the old man.
“ It is not good that the fire should go out upon
the hearth of Adanta.  dau for of his

   
 
  
 

heart shall go into his -V p the

bri hr.” 1‘ - ‘ ‘ , ‘m,
' 6 women of the tribe .‘ ded'ajjflib’
property of their rents? :‘they in. ‘ ,
and a consideration is alwo , ~ " n’suall

flve‘toten horses. The n‘ » ~‘; “the ol -
rior’s dang , I must be mtfibyvthe price paid
bythec g; r «'3‘ '- n
“his heel a
and

He tu tannin-be! the lodge,
which , ‘ ‘ , furnished ' than
most  n woman 801116-

A.” ‘ . An
what in mm v ears themother offida’nta
‘  0'! skins in one corner:
playing!!!“ a handsome poyperhaps two years
old, w 'lobk'ai‘lup laughing wdorowing‘as‘the

c

’ well that I have power “prophecy, a ‘I,.warn
ee
' shall bite the dust."

 

 

chief entered. The stern face relaxed. nth-the;
sight of the boy, and With such a look as Hector n ‘
might have worn when he caressed the son of
Andromache, he took the laughing hoyin his.
arms and caressed him. . ,

“ Has the boy been brave?" he asked of the f ‘»
woman. “ Has he wept for the bad. W'tho
fled from him?” , ' *

His mother nodded gravely. v ‘ .e .2.) 
“Let him forget her then, for hemm
see her face again. Kara is dead.” \ *m T V ,

The woman looked up with a start of surprise '* 
and something of pain. As much as her Indian ~
nature would permit, she had loved the wife of , '
her son. . .; ,

“He'i' name is never to be spoken,” said the
chief, sternly.- “ Another will take her place in
my lodge and be a mother to my boy.” ‘ \ .

“Where is the rWhite Sunbeam?” said his '
mother. “Remember the prophecy,“ she 98- .\_,
capes. ‘ ‘

“ The white prisoneris here,” replied the chief.

“ Talia the boy; I must go and see that she is
as e. i v _ ..
He put the boy down upon the skins,.and_, ,
hurrying out, entered sledge which stood on

It contained . ’

the other side of the lam. -
three persons, the beautit white irl who had ' ,
accompanied Kara in her attempt escape. the. g

warrior to whose care she had been given. I | v
the old hag who had exclaimed agunst Kara. f
in the plaza. The latter was standing before, >
the white girl with folded arms, waggin her
head from side to side in the manner peculfar to 
Indian women when under strong excitement. r ,
“Ha white slave!” she screamed. “Your
friend is dead—Kara—wbo fled with on from‘
the Navajo village. I would have rank her:
blood—I would have .burned her in the‘blaw,
You must die too; aha‘l” ' - .
Adanta touched the old woman on the shoal
der, and after a glance at his face she assumed
an ex ression of extreme humility, for she saw
that t e chief was angry. He did not speak a.
word, but inted to the door, and she went Out 
of it as if s 01: from a strong bow and was heard 
to stamp and scream outside.  » ' ' *
“White Sunbeam,” said Adanta, addressing..,-*
the girl by the poetical name which hadbeon I: .
given her b Kara, “wh did you flyfrom the. » ,
lodges of t e Navajoes Have they not been 4,
“film W”; t 1 his! t as 
peopeareno our pe,c o e
Navazies,” she replied? “move no|love tor

.

     
  
    

 

them my heart. Whatia this that theytell 
me; is aradeadi” _ - ’. w, a
' The chief nodded. \,

“Then listen to my words, chief. You-know?
you that for this cruel many vnjopuj
“Hal keep silent.”   

“I will not xeep‘silent. A womanpure and,
stainlms as snow—a woman of noble hurt, the; .
only oneamong your wild people whom I could 
love, has been basely murdered. yWflJW , .~
doom {snot tar‘distsnt.” . r .  ' ,3 ~ "
Kzsnpbeam,” said the chief, “I did not'kifl“..:i
V “W‘me‘how it‘was, nudist we judge.” . A
He narrated in as few words as possible it;

 
  

Kit Burt’s Mask.

 

4' events about the cave, after she had been sent

awa .
, “ They were brave men,” said the White Sun-
beam, ‘ and something tells me that you have
labored in vain. The men you could not con—
cuer by force you walled up in a living tomb.
do; you are a coward and will meet a coward’s
death.” ~
“ i” cried the chief, his nostrils expanding.
“ Who dares call Adanta a coward? Beware,
white fig! Thereis a stake in the plaza, and
man ds ready to light the fire.”
ut ou dare not light it,” cried Sunbeam.
boldly, ‘ for you know that the prophet has said
that on the day when I leave you, a great evil
shall fell upon the N avajoes.” ,

“ Sunbeam speaks truly.” replied the chief,
"but let her take care or Atlanta will dare the
danger and ‘ve her up to the flames. But come;
you will go ack to your place.”

“I do not wish to return to it; neither can ‘ I
endure your worse than foolish mummeries.”

“Come,” was the Only reply. " Why will
Sunbeam he a fool? lf Kara is dead you are to
blame, for if you had not tempted her she would

‘i still be a faithful wife to Adauta.” ‘

Sunbeam allowed her head to drop upon her
bosom. She could not deny that the wish to set
her free had brought Kara to her death. With-
out a word she followed the chief, and together
, they went up the mountain gorge behind the
> village. After a toilsome walk of half an hour’s
duration, the reached the summit and there,
upon a gran plateau. rose one of those vast
structures which the Aztecs had left behind
them.

It was a vast pile, covering an acre of ground,
of a type of masonry forgotten. and beyond the
power of modern architects. Built in the form
of a square, the gi ntic walls stood as firmly as
in those long centuries when the list stone
was laid by the Aztec workmen. Atlanta stop—
pedand regarded the grand. edifice with a look

- of‘pride.

This was the work of my fathers,” he said. in
‘ a lofty tone. “ Can the white men do as well i”
C “ It is lgrand, I grant you,” replied Sunbeam,
,,“ but w do you boast of it? Can the Nava-
joes buil as their fathers buildedi Are they

' , ,able to rear such a pile as this?”

“ If the Navajoes have forgotten the ancient
arts of their fathers, it is because the Mexicans
have oppressed them,” replied Atlanta. “Let
mTelimrpassed., thro h t h d d

e ug agree are e oorway

sand in the square, within the buildin .
' The place see erted, and their very foo
stars awoke strange echoes among the sounding
is es. 'The walls were covered with strange
hi roglyphics and pictures of beasts, birds and
119 es, but, above all, flamed a representation of
a flaming sun. Adants fell upon his knees be—
fore this and touched the earth thrice with his
forehead. At the same moment a small door in
the wall opened, and a venerable man, with
white hairfiowing to his waist, dressed in a
white robe, marked with strange symbols, step-

ped out into the open 6.
“ Adauta has come,” said in a hollow voice.
“ What does the war—chief sash

in the temple of
the sun?” I .

 

 

CHAPTER YII.
'rnn INVOCATION.

“ ADANTA would look into the future," replied
the chief. “ He would know if the sun-god shines
still upon his children, the Navajocs.”

“Adams. is a bold man,” said the old man.
“ but it requires double bravery to question the
sun—god in his temple. It is well for the chief
that he has brought back the white Sunbeam,
for, without her the future of the tribe would be
dark, and the ace of the sun clouded. Does
Adanta still ask to s k with the sun-god?”

" Yes." replied A anta, in an impatient tone,
“ I must speak with the sun-god.”

The priest of the sun silently led the way, and
they entered the little door in the wall, from
which he had come, which closed silently behind
them, leavin them in darkness. The moment
they were a one, a strange, hollow sound was
heard, like chords of music struck by spirit
hands. They passed throggh a loft hall, and at
the end, the priest stoop and li ted a slab of
marble, which formed part of the floor, reveal-
ing a square 0 ning with a flight of steps lead-
ing downwar . Sunbeam descended first, and
was followed by Adanta, while the priest came
last, replacing the stone after him.

They now stood in a great vaulted room, the
walls and ceiling of which were literally covered
with the same figures emblazoned upon the outer
walls, and in the center. high above their heads,
glowed the repressntation of' the blazin sun.

nd, not that alone, for, there, standing u the
center of the great room supporting himself up-
on a mighty spear, stood the marble figure of
the giant idol—a great figure fifteen feet in hight,
the marble drapery formed to represent the cos-
tume of an Aztec prince of the old times. The
left hand held three darts; the right rested upon
a broken spear, and one foot was planted upon
a prostrate figure a symbol of terrible power.

Adanta prostrated himself before this gantic
form, and uttered low pra are after his ashion.
The priest bent his has but said not a word.
When Atlanta had finished his devotions, he
arose. and the priest again turned to him.

“ You still demand the invocation?” cried the
priest. “ S ak.”

“ I still emand it," replied the chief, in the
same firm ‘tone.

“ It is well,” said the priest. “ Sunbeam, do
your work.” .

The girl brought a brazier from behind a col-
umn, in which a fire was glowing. the fire which
never was allowed to go down. She brought out
more fuel of a peculiar kind. and added it to the
fiile, and in a moment a bright blaze sprung up,

ghting the face of the god. The riest now
produced a black blanket, with which 6 shroud-
ed the chief from head to foot, for it was a tra-
dition in the tribe that no man could look upon
the sun-god durin tin/invocation and live.

“ Begin i” said t e priest, addressing Sunbeam.
“lSpeair, while I go away to prey to the sun-god
a one.

He disappeared through one _of the vaulted
passages. leaving Sunbeam standing between the
altar and the shrouded chief, who was as im-
movable as the grand statue before_which he
stood. A strange smile was upon the face of

‘

 

  

Kit -Burt’s Mask

    

 

Sunbeam as she took up a long, white wand and
waved it over the the burning brazier. As she
moved it, the music they had heard before again
began to sound. and the fire in the burning
brazier sprung up toward the ceiling, while the
girl broke into a solemn chant, eulogizing the
god, and calling him to appear.

A terrible crash was heard in answer to the
summons. The brazier was lifted from the floor,
rocked to and fro, and seemed about to fall but
that Sunbeam caught it. At the same moment
n trembling was Visible in the great statue, and
then a deep, hollow voice seemed to fill the vault
from side to side.

“ Who speaks?” it demanded. “ Who dares to
seek the sun-god in his holy temple?”

“ Adanta is here,” cried the chief, boldl .
“ Adanta, the war-chief of the Navajoes. e
would know what the fates have in store for the
great nation.” ‘

“ The face of the sun’god is dark toward the
Navajoes," replied the voice. “ What has Adan-
ta done? Why has he slain Kara, the priestess
of the sun?”

‘_‘ Kara was false to the Navajoes,” replied the
chief, tremblingly. “ Her arrow has slain a
great brave, and she has joined with the white
men in doing wrong to the Navajoes. It is just
that she should die."

“ A priestess of the sun should be judged in
the tem is of the sun,” replied the v0ice, which
seemed issue from the li s of the great statue.
“ Atlanta has done a foolis thing, and the sun-
god is angry. What more would Atlanta ask?”

“ He would know whether this white destroy-
er of the Nava'oes, the Death Man, is doomed to
fall b his ban 7"

“ T e Death Man is terrible,” replied the voice.
“While he lives, the sun-god will not look so
kindly on the _Navajoes: he must die.”

“ Adanta bears,” replied the chief, in the same
firm tones. “The Death Man is terrible, but a
war~chief has a reat name. He will follow
upon the track 0 the Death Man, and never
leave it until the work is done, and the body of
his enemy laid at thy feet.”

“My son.” said the voice from the statue.
“ ou have spoken well. and when the Death

an lies at in feet, the sun will shine again
upon ’the Nova oes. Fall upon your face and
pray.

“ Atlanta would ask one thing more. Will the
son of Atlanta live to be a man?”

“ A cloud hangs over him, which only in

thand can avert. Serve me faithfully and it
shall be good with the son of Atlanta.”
I Another loud crash was heard, and Adanta
iell u n his face. The statue trembled again,
and nubeam disap .ared. Adanta did not at-
tempt to rise unti a hand was laid u )0!) his
shoulder, and the voice of the priest be e him
stand and the blanket was removed.
“My son,” he said, “ has the sun-god spoken

to you?”
‘ He has ken," replied Adanta “ and has
men the chief a at work to do. he Death
u of the NavaJoes must be brought and laid
at the feet of the sun-god before he will he, set—
i spawns! "i; z; 1... p...
6 on rou e van 6
atten ed by the priest End Sunbeam. he mo-

 

 

ment the door closed behind him the white girl.
broke into a mellow laugh.
“ Silence!” cried the priest, speaking English ,

plainly. “ Why do you lau h?

“ The mask may as well 03 when we are
together, my friend,” said Sunbeam. “ Between
you and I, you are an lmpostor of the deepest
dye. I am another, but my motive is good,
while yours. I think, is not.”

“ Bush, I say! If these men knew that I had
deceived them, my life would pay the forfeit.”

“ Let me put your life before you‘ in its true
colors, Narranissa. You are a half-breed, and
have spent most of your life in the white settle-
ments. You were hard-pressed for bread, even;
but you are of the old priestly line and when
the acting priest died, you claimed the lace as
your right. The old mummeries of dead
priest dld not suit you. Living so much among
the whites, you must have something better,
and I must own that you have done it well.”

“Why repeat it?” said the priest imlpatiently.
L‘Yog must own that you are we treated

ere.

“I desire to return to my own people.” she
cried angrily. “ Why was I brought back?
Why did you not have a difl'erent revelation,
permitting the toga!” ‘

“That is useless, Sunbeam ” he said. “ I
could do nothing without your help and it was
for that I uttered the prophecy. ’Wh should
you go away? All your friends were k ed with
the caravan, and—’

“Yes, all, all; my dear father, my little bro-
thers, the brave man who was to have been my
husband—as there is a heaven above us. there
are times, as Adanta stands before me, looking .
at me with his cold, cruel face, when I am
tem ted to kill him.”

“ on take it too hard, Sunbeam,” replied the
hypocritical priest. “Stay where you are for
t e resent. Your attempt to esca hasbeen
the eath of Kara, the best Woman n the tribe.
I find it hard to forgive him that.” _

“ You loved her, priest,” said Sunbeam, look-
ing at him quickly. ‘ .

Bush; on must not speak'of that. The poor.  -

girl isd , and I have set Adanta upon the I
track of one who will be ve likely to set the
mark upon his breast. I sh lnot mourn him
very much, for he is tooacute tobe easily duped.
Let us go back to our roams.”

They passed down through the great building
andreached a place at the southern angle, where"
some small rooms had been fitted ufilfor their _
use. The young Indian girls were the‘flrlt. ~ '-
thev entered, preparing Posing them,  .
without a word, the two entered a room which ,'
was furnished after the Indian manner of civil- ,
ined life. The articles it contained, doubtless
plundered from some passing caravan, were
sadly out of place there, and Sunbeam seated
linemen lliponl aksort of gigafi ed

an in 00 mg muc a .
a5%“! want y’ou to go to the village for me,” she
said. “ 1 must know if there is any more new:
of Kara. I can hardly believe that her hul-
band would kill her.” - v

"Bah! Itell on that she is.dead,and he "
shallre nt it. tting dark; why shonld' 

tis go
Igoto he village?"

cushioned with  

   

  

 

  

‘ “When I tell you to do anything I prefer to
have it done at once,” she said. 1
“ Don’t ask too much of me Sunbeam,” he
said with littering eyes, “ or may have a
revelation t at you had better be burned.”

“ If you do, I shall also have a revelation to
make. I will show the chief the s aking-tube
under the robes of the sun—god. hat do you
so. to that?”

‘ e must remain friends,” said the old by
crite sullenly. “Why not send one of the girls
to the village?” ‘

‘ “ Just as you like; send Morena,‘then.”

3‘. He left the room and shortly after returned to
’ - say that tlgflrl had received her instructions
and depar .

“Itis getting dark.” he continued, “ and we
 ‘ are going to have a storm. Shall we have sup-
 per? I am getting hungry after all this prophe-

   
  
    
   
  
  
   
 
 
   
   
  
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
    
  
  
   
  
 
 
   
   
  
   

v-

sym‘g.”
“ ust as you like, sir’7 she answered. in a
tone of contempt. “Tell a-ta to bring it in.”
A table was drawn out and the remaining In-
dian girl brought in the dishes which had been
ropared. When this‘was done, the priest turned
herout of the room, dropped a bar before the
door, and produced from a cavity in the wall
 a black bottle that contained something which
at smelled suspiciously like whisky. He had a
El little horn cup which he filled and offeredto

'17, Sunbeam. _
F “ Pah!” she cried, putting it ends, “ why do
you offer the stuff to me?”

“ You are foolish," he said. “ I learned to
love it among the whites, and I have not forgot-
ten my first love. It makes ‘me laugh some-

times to think how the face of Adanta would
look if he saw me now."

5‘ He would kill you where you sit,” said Sun-
beam, helping herself to some of the venison,
‘“ and sometimes I think that the world would
be well rid of on.”

“ Don’t be ard upon me,” he whimpered.
‘.‘ The whites made me what 1 am, and it will
, o‘hard but I shall profit by the instructions I

we received.”

She said no more, but ate in silence. while he
stopped often to drink from the bottle, growing
more excited as the time went on, and t e flery
linguor poured down his threat: The isolated

di 0 'led by this strange man made this one in-
dulgence second nature to him, but he could yet‘

frain from it when there was an likelihood of
avisit from any of the chiefs. ndeed, if they
had surprised him when under the influence of
..the'li nor, it is probable that they would have
regar ed it mere] as the effect of inspiration-—
communion with be invisible spirits worshiped

. by them. V _ ,
, _ “ The storm howls without," cried the mad
.priest. ' _'“ No one will come to the temple and I
y will drink till. the earth rocks. Hal hal hai
’tjsa fine thing to be priest of the sun. and rule
q [tribe by pro hecyl _What a life it is,
,. ,_ho:w. I love it! y do you not drink, Sun-
beamfiflw do not know w at hap iness is.”

control his desires for drink sufficiently tore- .

 

V . 5‘ ‘ jnota fool. ,Sir Priest,” ssi Sunbeam,
,. _. “ You are getting too deep in your

cups I will leave you.”
:'- Leave me? Why should the sun priestess

r.—

      

fear the priest? Wh should you go away and
leave me to drink a one? Come; forget that
you ;have been wronged in the draught I offer
you.

She pushed the cup almost rudely aside and
arose. He made a deprecatin esture, but she
passed him and entered a li t 6 room which
opened into the one where they had been sitting
and he heard a bar drop into the socket. The
half-breed looked after her with tipsy gravity.
The intercourse which he had had With the
whites had demoralized the man, and he had
lost a great portion of the dignity which is the
noblest attribute of the pure Indian.

“ This is wrong,” he muttered “ very wrong.
A priest of the sun should not be drunk alone.
It is shameful, very shameful, to be drunk with-
out company. ' Ha! I’ll go down into the
temple and get drunk with the sun-god. He
can’t drink, but he can keep me company."

Such an idea would never have entered the
head of any except a ver drunken man. He
arose, supporting himsel by the table, and
looking unsteadin about him.

“Never got drunk with a sun-god in all m’
life,” he muttered. “ Wish I had some of the
Trapper Band here; how the temple would
ring. ’ ‘ '

_It was,noticeable that, when this 'man a -
peered in his true éharacter, he had very litt e
of the Indian about him. For ten years before
taking his place as priest he had been a member
of a band of prairie men and had ado ted their
peculiar code of morality as well as t sir form
of speech. It was onl in moments like this
that he appeared in h 5 true colors. Hugging
the bottle under his robe he 0 nod the door an
staggered slowly down the 10 ty passage, pushed
asi e the stone and entered the rest vault,
pulling the stone carefully into its p ace. '

“ Glad to see you ” he said, nodding cheerfully

, to the statue. and bringing forward the brazier

so that its ,light fell 11 u its face. “Pratt
much drunk, I am. hat’s cheerful; thats
nice; new you and I will drink some fire-water.”

He put the bottle tohis lips and drank. As
he did so he uttered a yell of terror and the

bottle dropped from his hand, for there, in the‘

bluish light shed by the brazier, he saw the face
of Kara, the dead Queen of the Navajoes, star-
ing wildly at him.

—.’-—

CHAPTER VIII.
rwo srrornas.

Arum had returned to the village very ill
at ease. To tell the truth, he did not like the
task which had been given him by the priest,
yet ‘he was not the man to refuse to perform an

duty put u n him, He feared the “Dent

.Man "as he cared no other being upon earth,

and knew that to put him down would be a
work of dimcul’ty far beyond anything he had as
yet accomplish

He pushed open the curtain of his lodge and
entered. His mother was seated upon the skins,

cronin out an Indian melody 'to the b0 , who
seem whammy.“ from tnnetoti’inehe
sobbed in hirsloep. ' r

,1”

43

'x
N

 

  

 

" "I"
‘rWhat is the matter with the boy, my
mother?” the chief demanded.

“ If I speak the truth, Adanta will be angry,”
she said.

He understood her at once. The little fellow
was grieving for his lost mother, and would not
be comforted. A shade of anger crossed the
noble face of the warrior.

“ Cannot the mother of a chief make him
{0153? one who has been false and wicked?” he
as

“Could Adanta have for otten his mother
when he was a little child?” a e replied.

The chief nodded Igravely, and taking a seat
upon another pile 0 skins, lighted a long pipe
and began to smoke“ Soon after the storm
broke in all its fury; the very walls of the cabin
seemed to rock, yet he sat there apparently un-
conscious of the tumult without, smoking calm-
ly, and looking at the boy in the arms of his
mother. His dark e es had a. tender light in
them, for the Indian ather loves his offspring,
especmlly if a boy, far better than civilized
men are willing to allow. An hour passed
and the boy had sobbed himself to sleep, an
thet chief put aside his pipe and lay down to

res .

The ni ht passed on, the storm still raged.
when sud enly a shrill shriek pierced the ear of
night,_and rose high above the tumult. There
was wild commotion in the camp, the tram ling
of feet, and up sprung Adant‘a, gras his
hatchet and knife and rushed out.

_He found many people in the plaza, staring
Wildly about them each one at‘a loss how to
account for that which had aroused them from
slumber. They had heard a cry for help, but
could not tell whence it came.

“ Let search be made!” cried the chief; “leave
not a spot undisturbed!”

The. men scattered throngh the.vi11age, and
ten minutes later a mournfu cry announced the
success of their search. Four men came into the
plaza, bearin between them the body of a man,
whose arms ung limp and power as by his
sides as they w ed.

They laid him down- and, as they held up
their torches, cries of horror were heard on

ever; hand.
“ he Death Man is here i”

The cry was e(passed from man to man in
ahoarse, strain whisper, full of horror and

ear.

The Death Man was indeed in the village, for
upon the breast of the save ewho had fallen
was his mark, and the head ha lost its scalp.

Adanta alone was undaunted.

“Look, sons of the Navajoesl” he cried.
“Whyare your faces dark, and why do you
look at one another in fear? Has the time
come when the braves of my tribe are afraid
of one man? If that is so, at us go to the
MT“, those men of peace, who dare not strike
for heir own, and ask them to let us be their
servants!” ‘

The Moquis are re arded b the prairie In-
1 as th  of ‘ that ilsl' iuse gm; gowgrd-
yqbicause t eir peculiar re'gon or i_ st em
“3th to u: if ale ‘11

as e —- age are we,
children of theyNavajoes; :q single white man is

 

on our track, and we fear him; so give us shel- '
tor and protect us from him, for he scares us i
ver much?” .h
0 man knew better than Atlanta how to L 2‘!
arouse the passions of his hearers, and his ‘
culiar style of oratory went home to their '
carts. He saw that he had succeeded, in the f
clinched hands and long-drawn breath of his 
hearers. i
“Listen, my children i” he cried. “ Tonight ' I I‘
swore by the sun- 0d of the Navajoes t at
would not turn bac from the work of following . .5
the Death Man until] had brought his body ' i!
and laid it at the feet of the an god. I have ‘ 
sworn this—I, Adanta, war—chic of the wt , ‘,
Navajo nation, and Adanta. never lies. ill A 
you follow me? Are your hearts stron 9” . “, ,
Cries of rage arose upon every hen attheir s ;
unknown enemy. Men ran hithu‘ and thither i
with torches, searching for some trace of him, ‘ ’
but they looked in vain, for among the man i
moccasm-tracks impressed upon the soft cart 3 , f
it was impossible to pick out those of the Death v- _ 1
Man. At last they gave up the search for the . 1
night, but guards were set about the village, a" “
thing whic had not been considered necessary _
for years. i
Adanta retired to his lodge, his bosom torn g
by'contendinE passions. Lying down again _
upon his cone of skins, and worn out by the' f;
lasiliors of the past few days, he was soon fastr  
a cop. ~ ’i
At this moment a hand pushed the lodge door,» ;
open, and in the next,Nick O’Connor stole softl ‘
in. Close behind him came a slight boy: .
figure, clad in the hunting-dress of the border, ‘ .3
and the two stood silently regarding the sleep- ‘ I;
i
l
i

in man.‘ ' x.
glick touched the knife in his belt significant

’ly, and made a signal to strike the sleepin , ';,
man, but the slight scout clasped his arm a j-‘e
pulled him back. He dared not speak, huthis‘ "
actions showed that he wished to arouse the f g
chief and fight it out with him in the shelter of .- t i
the lodge; but his companion refused topermit ’_ i
this. ‘  a 5
 E

g

a

i

i

’s‘

 

 

 

   

Nick was in agon . The chief mi ht awaken
any moment, and i he did, it wen] 'be next to ' .‘
impossible for them to escape. Be made furious
gestures. but as before, was stop b his oom-.
panion, who crept cautiously to t 6 pi e of skins, _
and looked at the babel ing by the Indian '0';  ‘
man’s side. Stoopin w th 9. care which a wo-  ~"
man mi ht have env ed the~suiall scout picked " ‘
upthe c ild and signed to Nick O‘Connor to _» 1
leave the cabin. He shook his head, and fainted ‘

agaip' '

to the sleeping figure of therchief, an
touched his knife. I v
A look of anger came in the face of the boy. 
who carried .the child, and hemade an impatient _
gesture. The child cried out. and the chief ‘2“ .3
started up from the cushions onlfiito a , -
under a tremendous blow from o ‘ ponderahs’ , ,:
fist of Nick O’Connor. ‘ V v -'
“Give me the chicken.” he cried, drawing a. ‘,
hatchet from his belt. and taking the child upon gs; .-
his left am. “Now thin, follow me, an' may .1
the divil take the hindmost.” - ; -
They darted from the cabin together, into the; , . 3!
night and storm. The mother of Adanta had 5.1
“mm ..
E

m an unnumle .m.

     

   

. urea-rev ,

awakened, and was screaming with the

 

’ is

; power of her lungs, and the Indians were rush-

:I iug,r toward the lodge from all points. Nick

_ turned aside, and crouched for a moment under
- the shadow of an empty lodge.

“ Have ye the hatchet ready?" he whispered.
“ Kape well behint me, an’ it‘s meself
will go0 troo thim. Hist! kape silent fur the life
av ye.

Half a dozen Indians darted by, going toward
Atlanta’s cabin. Nick knew that there was no
safety for him in his present position; so rising,
he darted down one of the narrow streets be-
tween the cabins, closely followed by his com-
panion. All might have been well, but that
two Indians darted out of a cabin provided with
tJrches, and met them face to face. Nick ut-
tcrcd a wild Irish bowl, and the foremost went
down under the blow of the hatchet, while the

vi second dodged his blow and set up a wild yell
.} , ~sz’liich quickly brought a dozen torches toward
 t em.

Ii. “Come up til me, my buckoi” roared Nick,
r charging two or three skulking vagabcnds, who
A, beset, his path. “Whoop arooi Dave the
“ wavl’

I ~ They melted from his path like snow, only to
 hem him in again, evidently intending to keep
‘ ‘i. him in play until more torches and help should
i arrive. He turned suddenly, shot one of his as-
_ v sailauts against the wall of a cabin by a vicious
'AJ kink, which nearly drove the breath from his
' be ly, and then darted down one of the narrow
{a streets, turned a corner suddenly, and came out
 ahead of his enemies, and with a wild shout dis-
 , appeared in r the gloom. In the hurry of the
,«51, . fight he had not forgotten to keep the child
.11“ sheltered, but he had forgotten his companion,
5'5 and for the first time realized that he was alone.
W * He turned back at once.

“ Escape !” cried a voice in his ear. “'You
at the child; make terms for her safety
" with 't at.”

v “ You here, Kit?” whispered the big hunter.

“ I don’t like to I’ave her a prisoner.”
“ Atlanta will give you anything for the boy,

« even his revenge.”

. They darted away together, for the pursners
were close at hand. But the two men they pur-
V sued ran with the speed of flying deer, and
speedily lost themselves in the darkness, and
the,Indiaus turned back, gloomy and disappoint-
’ed, to find that they had one prisoner in their
‘ hands—the small hunter, who had stolen the
‘ child. They. dragged him back through the
mud. and filth, to the plaza. where the warriors
were already athering, and a shout of delight
, was heard as t e approach of the prisoner was

seen.

_ “th is this?" cried Adanta, coming for-
r, ward, wipin the blood from his face. “ Where

is Tall Pine ’

, ,- “Tall Pine has escaped,” replied one of the

M, . warriors, “ but we have taken this prisoner.”

: 5‘ “Child-stealer!” cried 'the chief, fiercely.

I. ,“Who are you, to steal into the lodge of

'«Adanta, and rob him of his boy?”

“ one who has the right to the boy!” replied

“ the prisoner, raising his head. A cry of horror

1 was heard asthe face was raised, for all thought

V /they saw a vision. Kara stood there—Kara,
’ whom they had seen buried in a living tomb, in

 

  

as; u

-zw—A.,_v-

b. axis.
Jr»

   
  
   
  
   
 
  

wins» f.‘ {1;-

 

 

Kit Burt’s Mask;

the depths of the mountains, about the Canyon
de Chellel

“ Back i” cried Adantii, making a gesture of
repulsion. “ I did not slay you.”

‘ You did what you could,” re lied Kara.
“ You left the woman you had love , and whose
child had lain in your bosom, to die of hunger
and thirst, in the deep cave. But, the Manitou
of the white man watched over us, and we are
saved.”

After the first shock Adanta began to realize
the fact that Kara was there in the body, and a
murmur crept through the crowd of witnesses.

“ Let her die, false wife and mother. Her
hands are red with the blood of Navajocs. Give
her to the buzzards, the woman of the bad
heart.”

These and various cries of like tenor were
heard upon every side, and it was evident that
the tribe would demand her death; but Adanta
waved them back.

‘5 Do you tell me—”

“ I tell you nothing,” replied Kara. ” If I
have come into your hands it was my fault, for
Tall Pine might have slain 1you this night, and
would have done it but that stop d his hand.
Go; you haVe lost the honor of a avajo chief.
Seek for honor among the Moquisl”

He raised his hand and struck her in the face
with the open palm. At that indignity her
bosom swelled, and she strained at her bonds so
fiercely that for a moment they seemed about to

art.
p “ Silence, wicked womani” he cried. “ Dare
you insult a chief when the altar is awaiting the
sacrifice? Bind her well, warriors, and let Slx
braves watch her, with arrows ready. When
morning comes we will light up the, pile of
death.”

Kara looked him fixedly in the face. The
blow which he had given her bad aroused the
old Spanish blood, and driven all love, for the
chief forever from her heart. . She stood like
a statue, steadily regarding him, not a muscle
of her beautiful face moving, and her dark eyes
glowing with a passionate light. ,

“I am ready to die, Atlanta,” she cried.
“When we stood together upon the mountain, I
told you that I would die willingly. I loved
fiou then, for you are the father of my child.

ut whenI find your heart has no mercy for
the daughter of a great chief and a priestess of
the sun, I spit upon you. You are no better
than a Moqui.”

The chief literally gasped for breath. His
hands opened and shut convulsively. and the
captors of Kara, fearing he would rob them of
their hoped-for revenge, carried her away to a
lodge which was used as a prison, and placed a
guard over her. But when the morning broke,
and the sun, the god of their worship, came out
in the clear sky overhead, the people of the vil- _
Inge, young and old, came out to see the Navajo
Queen die.

A stake was set 11 in the plaza, and to this
they led her. hold an .deflant in her hearing.
She never leaked at her husband new, for she
lovedhim no more, but upon some of the young
Nava'o girls her glance rested kindly, for she
felt t at they pitied her. and did not willingly
see her die. They bound her to the stakeand

 

‘ Kit Burt’s Mask. ‘

 

1'9"“1“:

 

piled the fagots high about her, and yet she had
not nailed.

“ sk her where her frieiidszire hidden,” cried
Atlanta, turning to one of the women.

The girl advanced and asked the ( uestion. A
look of scorn swept over the fare of urn.

“Did Adanta bid you ask that question?" she
said, bitterly. “ Tell him that my lips are sealed,
and that 1 will not speak.”

“ Where is the boy? Where is the son of
Atlanta?" cried the chief, wildly.

“ NeVer shall you see him,” replied Kara.
“The brave man who has him will keep him
safe from you and make him a gallant hunter
and a brave man. I ask no more at his hands.”

‘.‘ Tell me where he is hidden,” shrieked the
chief. “ Tell me, before the fires are lighted
about you.”

“.Kara will not speak,” she replied, boldly.
“ Light the fire when you will.”

,_“ ave your wish, traitoress to the great
tribe,” screamed Adanta, dashing the torch he
held into the pile. It caught the light tinder,
and a slight blaze was seen curling upward,
when the crowd parted before the rush of a
strong man, and the brands were scattered from
the stake.

The Navajoes rushed furiously upon the in-
truder, but he hurled them back With giant
strength, and throwin off the blanket, revealed
the hideous] painted ace and long gray hair of
the priest o the sun. They had not recognized
him until now, and as they knew him, all re-
coiled in terror, for they believed it death to
touch him in anger.

I “ Awai!” he cried. “ Who are ye, to do sacs
riflce Wit out the aid of the priest of she sun?
Fools! The sun-god is angry. and today I have
saved you from his wrath. Fall back I"

CHAPTER IX.
“HOW sn’ YE. INDIAN JIMT’

Tm: Navajoas looked with superstitions rev-
erence upon this man, although, as we have
seen, he was far frOm deserving it. But he had
learned his lesson of hypocrisy well, and could
assume at will an air of religious sanctit before
which the simple Indians. trained as t ey had
been, must-bow. They obeyed his mandate and
left a wide circle about the condemned prisoner,
whose head had dropped lifeless upon her bosom
—she had fainted.

The strange man hastily unbound her from the
stake and lifted her in his arms. Up to this
time Adanta had not thought of barring his
way, but now he remembered that the priest
had once been a suitor for the hand of Kara and
had been refused for him. In a moment of pas-
sion he threw himself in the way. . v

“Where do you take herr’ha cried, madly.
“ Priest of the sun, dare you rob the Navajoes of
their revenge?” . '

“Let me see the man among the Navagoes
whodares lay a "finger upon .my garment. or
touch one who is in my protecting arms. Chief

 

‘ of the Navajoes, you tempt your fate. Beware

that the sun does not darken his face tothe
tribal”

“ She must not go,” hissed the chief. “ The
bad spirits have whispered in the ear of the
priest of the Inn, and havetold him that he once

 

 

loved Kara, Queen of the Navajoes, and that she,
is still very fair. Children of the tribe, your
priest is tainted. Let him not destroy himselil
by doin greater wrong.”

“ Foo I” cried the priest, raising his hand with
a lofty gfesture. “ Look up, your god darkens
his face efore you.”

As he spoke he pointed toward the god of day.
For some moments a shadow had been creeping .
over the village, and now, as they gazed, the
grand orb began to change its color r to a
deep red, and a dark spot was seen creepin {
slowly over the outer rim. The Indians gaze ,
upward in terror as the darkness increased, and ' ,
they saw the sun disappearing from their . V l
gaze in open day. Even Adanta was appalled, , 
knowing nothing of the nature of the eclipse
and being deeply imbued with the natural su-_ ' '
perstition of his race. The women, with wail- i
ings of despair, ran to their lodges and crouched _ 3-.
in terror beneath their shelter, for they thought
that the evil day had surely come upon them  
and that the face of their god was .darkene
forever. The priest lifted the still insrnsihlo 7
form! of the queen and bore her away, followed \ ' j ,
bya crowd of people praying to him to inter-
cedle1 with the sun-god and save them from this
s . , -
pi-Ie answered not a word, lrut calling four A, i
stout warriors, gave the queen into their hands, ‘ 
and ordered them to carry her to the temple i
and give her in charge of Sunbeam. . '

They obeyed withoutaword of demur, and ‘
flerce glances were . cast at Adonis as the man -«‘
who had brought this woeu in them. Mutter- ,
ings were heard, and some 0 the fiercersmog j:
the warriors began to crowd upon .the chi' , 
who stood immovable in the center of ,the plaza.
But as the priest came back they fell away“ 
again and the two stood nlone in the plaza. .' _

“ You have scofled at my power chief of the ‘ ‘ _
Navajoes.” cried the priest, “an now see how ' .~ ~'
evil a day has come upon you. Behold how the "
sun darkens his face. bet-misc he has heard the
words which you spoke against the priest.” ‘-

“ Adanta rmi die if he has brought evil upon , ,
the Navajoe=,." said the chief, proudly, “ and if "
the god calls for me I am ready to go. Let a, ,
flre he lighted about Adanta and sacrifice him
to the sun-god.” ,  .

“It is good!” cried the Navajoes. “He has, it ‘
insulted the sun- od;Ngive him for a sacrifice . .‘
to the sun-god. he avajoes doom him—it is, 3‘
our will.” 3

The chief bewed his head and Walked calmly .
tothe fatal stake. A dozen officious hands.—
hands which he had touched in kindness a bun- ,
dred times—were ready to bind him to the ,.
stake, and this undaunted man, who had sinned ‘.
against the tribe. stood read to expiste his C
offense with his life. The dar ness grew great- .
er, and the disk of the sun was narrowing more _.
and more. The priest seemed to hem doubt, _ M
It was in his power to remove a hated rival for- V.
ever from his path or he could save him. 1 i
glanced at the immovable face of Adanta,aud . w '
strug- led a moment with his own heart, and" “
then Eis decision was made. He would save the ,
chief. ‘ .

“ Touch him not, Nava'oesl" he cried. “ Let‘-
him stand at the stake wb lo I go up to the tour

3.

  
 
 
   
  
 
  
   
   

   
  
 
  

Bo ‘ ’Klt Burt's Mask.

 

lo and pray to the sun-god for his sake. If I
o well, the shadow will go away from the face
of the god: *if net, then he is doomed. Insult
him not while I am gone, for if the shadow goes
away he is still the chief of the Navajoes.” o
v He hurried away and rapidly ascended the
lofty hight toward the temple, running with a
speed for which they had hardly given him
credit. The chief remained at the stake, proud,
erect, his dark eyes flashing over the assembled
group, while he saw the dark disk slowly creep-
ing over the face of the sun. The people ran
about the streets in wild terror as the darkness
grew greater.

“Woe is me, Navajo!” cried a weird old hug,
the same who had met Sunbeam upon her re-
turn from the mountains. “ Alas for the great
nation. They are doomed because Atlanta has
been mad and has insulted the god.”

The darkness increased and with it the terror
of the people. Most of them ima ‘ned that the
end 01' the world had come. lid and high
through the misty vail arose the wailing of
women and children, scared by the unearthly
gloom. Men hurried he eand there in terror,
and some were clamorous for the immediate
sacrifice of the chief so weak a thing is popu-
larity in the face of danger. Some drew their

. weapons and threatened him. while others ran
up toward the temple to fall upon their faces in
the outer court, but none dared touch the chief
against the commands of the priest.

. Slowly, slowly, the shadow crept on, until the
sun was only visible by a narrow rim ,seeminglv

. not wider than a knife-blade. Yet the priest

 had notcome and the shadow was creeping on,
and the gloom deepening more and more. The
bright strip narrowed, and in a. moment more
the were in noonday darkness. Then Adanta

s e: I

ngisten, Navajoes,” he cried, his firm voice
rln 'n out with the clear note of a trumpet.
“ ear en to my words. If 1-have done wrong,
light the fire about me: if I have brought evil
upon the tribe I would not live longer." .

.. Several started up at the summons and
brought fire to light the pile. but, Suddenly, the
priest a peered among them, his white hair

" ’. . floating ,n the wind, and waved them back.

‘ ' “He is saved: he is forgiven. Look up and
behold the sign.”

They looked and saw that the shadow was be-
ginning to pass from the face of the sun, and
soon their terror changed to the wildest joy.
The hands which had been so busy in binding
the chief now hastened to unloose him and
brought him to the priest.

““ Adanta,” he said, “ the sun-god has listened
to my prayers and forgives the great insult you

' have ofleredhmn. 'From this time remember

:4. that'II”am his servant, and obey me when I

z \

.. \‘

-mmr'9nmsm-Wmun—n-n~-m.___~-.__...f.n .,.. w. _e . ..

sum

3 k.
,4 ' Atlanta did not speak, but drawing a long
, . _ breath of relief, looked up at the widening strip
which now- showed upon the disk of the sun.
Fora moment he had doubted the power of the
I priest, but luck or accident, providence, call it
- ‘ what you will, had combined to aid the charla-
'9 tan, and the chief bowed to the decree. Turn-
, v lug: to the people the priest said: '

- “GKQJ 1::

see-H

:‘i

" I give you your chief, who has escaped a

1

a

I"

 

great peril. . He is wise and good, and will
work better for the tribe. Trust him in all
things and pray to the sun-god when you have
need of help. ’

The wily priest strode back toward the temple
chuckling to himself as he passed along. Reach-
ing the sacred edifice, he threw open the door in
the wall, which he carefully barred behind him
and went into the room where he usually dined.
It was empty, but the door of Sunbeam’s room
was open and she called to him to come in.

Sunbeam was seated upon a low settle, cush-
ioned with skins, with her arm passed about
the waist of Kura, who was very pale. She
looked wildly at the priest as he entered.

“ Speak,” she cried; “ what has been done in
the village?”

“ He is saved,” replied the priest; “it is well
that my prayer was answered, for the people
were lighting the pile.”

“ You ought to have let them go on,” said the
Sunbeam, in English. “ The chief deserved
almost as bad a fate as that, for he would have
destrgyed this beautiful child by the same tor-
ture.

“ Adanta is a pure Indian, you must remem-
ber,” protested the man; “ and as such, believes
in this purification by fire.”

“ You have done nobly,” said the Sunbeam,
“and I ive you credit for it. Kara thanks
you for w at you have done.”

“ I want to ask .one thing,” said the priest.
“ How did Kara come here, in the the first
place? I saw her down in the vault when I
went to sacrifice "—u smile appeared u n the
face of Sunbeam, who understood this s y allu-
sion to his drunken habits—“and I thought it
was her ghost. I broke a very valuable instru-
ment, I was so frightened."

“ In other words, you broke the bottle,” said
Sunbeam, in English again. “She came in by
the door in the south angle, which was known
to her.” - '

“That is it. Don’t tell Kara about the
liquor. I am getting tired of this life. and I
would not be surprised if the Navajoes have to
look for a new priest, as I am longing for the
old life—the hunter’s fire and the pleasures of
the chase.” "

“ It is a more noble calling than this,” said
Sunbeam, eagerly. “ Let us escape; I, too, am
tired of this life.” _

“ I can not go yet,” responded the man: “ but,
if you are good, and help me a few months
longer, I do not know but I shall be willing to
go. Are you stronger, Queen of the Navajoes,
he added, in the Indian tongue, and in the- cold,
Erogd manner he assumed with his priest-

oo .

“ Kara is strongr now,” she said, rising and
taking his hand. “Kara thanks the priest of
the sun, without whose help she would now be
dead, and her son without a mother.” ‘

“ Where are these white men hiding?” said the
priest, with a puzzled look. “ThistD‘eath Man
was in the village last night and killed a ,war-
rior. I do not like that, and it must be stopped,
for the tribe has always treated me well.”

“ Who can stay the hand of the Mad Spirit?”
said Kara. “ He comes in darknesaa detrik'es.

The braves’go out in chase, endan one ‘witb,

 



i.

 

.__.,._.  . T.v._.--.v..v. 

 ‘ ' a .-

 

' the priest,

Kit Burt's Mask.

 

 

his mark 11 n the breast. ' He will never cease
to slay the avajoes.” '

“I have set Adanta u n his track,” said the
priest, niusingly, “ and know not how it will
end. The chief is a brave man, and one or the
other must go down. Kara, would you go back

to the lodge of Adanta if he would receive.

on?”

“ Never!” cried Kara, starting to her feet.
“ He has insulted hie—would have slain me, and
I scorn himl Twice 1 have saved his life since
he cast me off; 1 will do it no more.”

“ An’ it’s moighty right ye are, me darliiit,"
said a voice at the door. “ Sure I’m glad to see
ye safe ag’in, alanah 1”

All turned in surprise, and there, leaning
against the door, was the burly form of Nick-
0 Connor regarding them with a quizzical
smile. The priest snatched up a spear iii a man—
ner which but ill accorded with his holy char-
acter, and Nick drew a pistol, but Kara darted
betWeen.

“Shoot not, my brother,” she cried; “these
are my friends, and you must not harm them."

“ Thin let the old man lay down the toastinl-
fork he hev in his tisht,” cried Nick. “ It
rouses the angry passions in me heart to see him
wid that same.”

“Who is this?” demanded the priest. “ Tall
Pine, 1 know you. What are you doing in the
Navajo temple?”

“ The ould man wants an inthroduction,
honey,” said Nick. “I‘m Nick O'Connor, me
fri’nd—wan of the b’ys ye r’ade av, from the
ould dart—a broth av a b’y from Connaught,
{idli‘iy’to fight or shake hands wid ye, jist as ye
01 e.

“ He is my friend,” said Kara. “ Put up the
spear and take his hand." I _ -

“ I know him,” muttered the priest, turning to
the Sunbeam, and sgeaking in a whisper; “and
if it were not for t e paint he would know me.
Ask him what he seeks here, KaraJ’

“ No nade‘ to ask that.” put in Nicknnf,‘ Izve a
small broth av a b’y down below, an’.it’s him is
howlin’ the top av his kid off fer his mother?
Down by the states, Kara.” - .

The Navajo Queen uttered a glad cry and
darted away, and they heard her lift the stone
which closed the way into the vault. Fiye min-
utes after she was back again, carrying the
child in her arms. and covering its face With
kisses. The little fellow was crowin delighted-
ly, and his chubby arms were do about his-
mother’s neck. The Indian mother sat down
upon the floor and clasped him, rocking back
and forth, talking excitedl to the child. ..

Nick was looking keen y at thepriest, as if
something in his manner was familiar, and the
man med awa with asmi e.

“ [Eyck ye, ouldi man,” said the Irishman, “ be
the sow] av O‘Connor—ould Fergus, the maighty
—-I’ve seen ye afore.”

The priest did not speak.

“ The white hair puzzles me, upon me wurd.
Look ye here; were ye ivei‘ on the upper Platte?
Sp’ako out an’ be a man.” _

“ I have been in many places,” replied the

est.

Nick run t rward and seizing the hand of
8p up his, linen sleeve and looked

\ . .

usually of Mexican origin. Juan was a. ,

 

at his arm, where, pricked in India ink, was the
figure of an Indian warrior, with a bow drawn
to the head. .

“Indian Jim, be the powers!” roared Nick.
“ e ould devil, I thought it wuz ye. Phat the
divil are ya doin’ here’l .

“ I knew you as soon as you came in,” said “i
the priest. “ We will talk another time, but let »‘
it be known that my hand can never be raised
against lrish Nick. Where are your friends?”

“ They are down below in the fine ould rooms
behind the statee,” said Nick. “ Only Kit Burt
isn’t there at all, at all, and the divil alone may
know where he is.” ,

“Who is Kit Burt?” cried the Sunbeam,-
starting up eagerly. - ,

“ This is in my hands," said the priest. ‘.‘ Kara.
take the child and go into the vaults. Nick, go
with her. Only Sunbeam can stay with [in
and you must keep silent for your lives
mine.” - ,

They obeyed without a word, and _v the priest
and Sunbeam were left alone.

 

CHAPTER X.
rm: AVENGERS 0N rm: TRACK.

ADANTA lost no time in preparing to recover
his lost popularity, and to fulfill the promise,
given the riest to destro the DeathMan. Ex:
cited by t e situation w iich he now found an:
vironing him, he wanted action—sternjction—
to occupy his distracted thonghts, and at, once
summoned one of his personal adherents, a gal-
lant young brave called. Juan Nevada, Let it
be noted that most of the leading warriors and
chiefs of the Navajoes have compound. .

statelyvyonng Indian, 8. prairie dandy d
in the most gaudy costume of the  He
wore asort of tunic of red and ye ow: cloth,
with a rolling collar. Over this was a gay‘, {7‘
jacket of red, belted at the waist. His limbs ‘ "
were cased in yellow buckskin legginsmrnamontw; ,
ed with bullion fringe, and his moccasins dis-j; ' ‘
played the fancy bead-work for which the In-
dians are so noted. Upon his head was one ‘of
those culiar helinetrclasped hats worn only '
by the avajoes. In his right hand he carrivda
long spear, and upon his left arm a 1mm _'
shield, for he had just come in from the  ., ‘
.“Juan,” said Adenta, “there is a great work» '
bfiflcg-e us, 5111141 we must bmnignhghdow, _
c i ran. oose amon eves ' ~
thirty who will never guru bani loathe day
of battle. Have them at the lodge .door as
soon as you can. We are to follow the th
Man until we have taken him, alive or dead. . '. v“ *
The young warrior- inclined his head withou
speaking, for the Indians never waste words. ,_ I
“ They must be men who love me, Juan Noam“
vada,” said the chief. “You and that... *‘
Now go and do your work.” I . .
.“Shail theb raves take their horses, chief‘i’?
asked Juan. - ' r. ' o -
“ Yes; and let them be fully armed.” a. V
The young warrior bowed and left the tent
and was soon seen passin hastily-among the
warriors in the plaza, smfiing to one here ,and
there. Half an hour not passed when he ’

 

  
  
 
 
   
   
   
 

 

 

/

\

'i

l
i
i _
i
i

e

 

the chief that they were ready.

.» had not escaped by thansual exit.



 

‘-f’ talking of their future course, when

 

22’

Kit Burt’s Mask.

 

‘ was at the door of the lodge and announced to

Adanta stepped to the door and atasingle
glance saw that Juan had chosen well. There
was not a man in the party who was not a gal-
lant warrior, tried in a. hundred fights, and
their horses and arms were of the best descrip—
tion. A boy had brought up Adanta’s horse
and was leading him to and fro before the door
~a noble black charger, of the wild mustang
breed, which any except an Indian would have
hesitated long before riding. Adanta buckled
on his belt, thrust his knife and ax in it, caught
up his spear and bounded into the saddle, his
eyes flashing with the ardor of battle. Ac—
coutcred as they were, the party looked like

knights of the old day about to ride upon a '

fora .

, “ Igor the Canyon de Chelle,” cried Adanta.
“ The ‘ Death Man’ haunts the place, and we
must know howthe Tall Pine and Kara escaped
from the cave.”

Twenty miles, as the crow flies, is as nothing

‘ to the fleet and hardy Indian horses, and early

in the afternoon they reached the canon near
the 5 ct where their enemies had been buried in
that iving grave. By taking another pass they
managed to bring the horses within half a mile
of the place. Leaving them in charge of the
men, the chief rapidly ascended the mountain to
the plateau upon which the mouth of the cave
was situated. Every thins,r was just as they had
left it. and it was quite evident that the party
Where, then,
- ,was the avenue of escape?

v“ There is exp/ass below,” said the chief. “ We

must find it.” 3

They rapidly descended into the ravine, and

Soon found a line of footsteps leading around a

/ point of rocks. Following this trail, they ar-
rived at a fissure in the mountains which seemed
to extend far into its depths, and from this the
trail came.

“ Get torches, Juan,” commanded the chief.
“ We must see where this pass leads.”

'The young warrior quickly supplied the need-
ed articles from a fallen pine, the knots of
which have peculiar resinous qualities andburn
like tinder, and three of them were quick-
1y rubbed into a blaze.
led the wayjnto the fissure, which was just wide
enough to admit the passage of the body of a
man, if he went forward stooping. Twenty
minutes’ walking brought them to the foot of an

 inclined plane up which Ad inta. dragged him-
' Y Self by a great effort, and they were within the
, :, "cave which had been occupied by Kara and her

friends. Their method of escape was now

p am.

’ ~:"‘Seel""cried Adanta, “the bad spirits of the

, hills must have taught them which way to 0.
Let us follow the trail, now that we know w o

' . hasmadeit.”

They descended rapidly and took up the trail,
and night found them in the great canyon again
not far from the place where the horses had been
left. Here they camps! and waited for the
' morning. The party sat about the campfire
Juan Na-
'.Vfldflr who had been out to look at the horses.

came. into camp and sat down a little apart from

Adanta took one and-

 

f‘he rest, with his head enveloped in his blan-
t

e .

“ Are the horses safe, Juan ?” asked the chief.

“ Yes,” replied Juan, shortly, as he took a.
pipe from his pouch and lighted it at the low-
ing coals. Something had gone wrong wit the
young warrior, for it was evident that he was
not inclined to talk.

“ Why does Juan Navada cover his face from
his friends?” said Adanta.

“ My heart is sick,” was the reply. “Atlanta,
I know who the Death Man is, and why he hates
us. I have never spoken before, but now it is
time.”

“Speak now, Juan,” said the chief, eagerly.
“ My ears are open to hear your words. ”

“Come this way,” said Nava'la. The chief
followed him aside where the cliff cast a dark
shadow, and here they sat down. I

“ Five years ago you went out upon the wor-
trail upon the south prairie. On the Santa Fe
trail you found a party of white men who slept,
little dreairing of surprise. They were ten in
all, nine men and one girl. You fought them,
and when the battle was over none was left with
a scalp, save one, and he fell into a ravine where
we could not‘fiud him.” '

“ Adanta does not forget,” said the chief.
“What has this to do with the Death Man of
the Navajoes?" »

“ M uch, Adanta. That young warrior who
fell into the ravine was a great brave. You did
not find him because he was a cunning warrior,
and, though wounded, concealed himself among
the rocks. He lived, and from that time to this

he has f0110wed the Navajoes, slaying them '

wherever they were found. He is the Death
Man—the Mad Spirit—the man you seek.”

“ How can this be, Juan? You were not with
:1; when this was done. You never saw his

ace. -

“ It is true,” persisted the young warrior. “ I
know that it is true.”

“ Juan Niivada, are you mad?” cried the chief.
“ Why should he follow us, when there is noth-
ing to gain by it? He cannot know that any
Viiere saved, for the bodies were buried upon the

am.

“ Savodi” cried Juan, eagerly, speaking in a.
voice entirely different from the one he had used
before. “ Who was saved 3”

“ Ha!” cried the chief. “ You‘ are not Juan
Nevada, though you wear his garments. Who

‘are vou then?”

“ The Death Man!” cried the other flinging

aside his blanket and striking a nick blow with ‘

his hatchet which sent the chic , reeling to the
earth. “Take that!”

As the chief fell the strange being again raised
the hatchet and seemed- about to repeat the blow
but something stayed his hand.

“ Not yet,” he murmured, “oh! not yet; your
fate has yet to come.”

As the alarm-cry of the chief was heard, a
dozen warriors sprung to their feet and grasped
their weapons. The Death Man turned and
darted away toward the horses, but one of the
guards started up before him and raised his
spear for a blow. The Death Man dashed it

aside and closed; there was a brief struggle and 

the Indian went down, The keen knife flashed

 

 

i

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kit 'Burt’s Mack. 23 '

   

 

a moment about his head, the hideous trophy
was torn off, the fatal mark placed upon the
breast almost in reach of the distracted Nava-
oes. A Wlld laugh was soon heard, and the

oath Man appeared upon the back of Adanta’s
mustang. and went thundering down the pass,
wavmg the bloody scalp about his head. Quick-
1v he disappeared in the gloom of the night.
They had found him all too soon!

Some of the-warriors had hurried to raise
Atlanta and bring him to the fire. Only one
thing had saved him from death, for the blow
had been a terrible one. The cap which he
wore had a circle of thin iron let into it, and the
edge of the ax had glanced from it, inflicting.r a
painful scalp—wound, but not one necessarily
dangerous.

Some had mounted and were in pursuit of
the Death Man, but they pulled up after going
half a mile, keeping well together, for no one
among them desired to cope with the ter-
rible being alone in the darkness of these
wild passes. They came back, and brought
1n the body of the man last killed, but looking
over their numbers, Juan Nevada was not to
be seen!

They called his name, but only the echoes
mocked them. Some of the men hurried out,
and found the body just be and the horses
stripped of its gaudy tunic, eggings, cap and
blanket, dead, with the six-pointed star upon
the breast!

They understood now how the daring white
man had penetrated the cam . They feared that
the chief also was dead. ater was brought
and dashed into his face, and he began to revwe
and looked wildly about him.

“Where is he—the Death Man?” he cried.
“ Dogs, have you let him escape?"

“ We have done what we could," said one of
the warriors, “ but we could not come in time.
He killed Gabriel Zane, took your horse, and is
away.”

“The sun-god is still angry,” said the chief,
in a whisper, averting his face. “Is Juan
Nevada dead?”

The warrior pointed silently to the motionless
form, and Adanta raised himself ugon his el-
bow and looked steadfastly at the ead brave,
with an expression of unutterable son-ow upon
his face.

“ My sorrovvs are too much for me to bear,"
moaned the chief. “ Warriors. we cannot turn
back now. All who loved Juan Navada must
aid in slaying the Mad Splirit. Cover the bodies
from the wolves, and w en we have done our
work, we will carry them to the village and lay
them by their fathers.”

“ Is the chief badly hurt?” one of the warriors
asked.

“ How can Adanta feel pain for himself until
Navadg is avenged?” replied the chief, tes-
tily. “ Set guards about the horses, and let
no man sleep this night; for to sleep when
this man is in the hills is death! NavaJoes, to
your duty.” ,

The fires were put out, and taking their wea-
pons. the man stood about the horses through
thenight, so great was their fear of this one
brave man. » '

Momma broke and he had not appeared, and

 

Adanta, who had not slept, arose from the rock . i;
upon which he had been seated. His Wound was
painful, but he bore it with stoicel composure,
and none could have told by his face that he
was not perfectly at ease. The men had already '
buried the bodies of the slain among the stones,
where they could be readily found if they chase
to remove them to the villa 9. This done the
horses were brought up, A. anta menu the
steed of Juan Nevada, and they took the trail,
for now they thought no more of the old one . ,
which the 'had followed before. The track of ~ '
the Death an was before them, and th were
sworn never to give up the pursuit until 6 was
dead or a prisoner in their hands. _
From the length of the black mustang’s stride,
they knew that their enemy had been urging
him to his utmost speed, riding .with a reckless
daring over a way which_ was difficult  pass
even in open day, and going toward theyillage.
His daring in thus penetrating the Navano coun-
try, after all the evil he had wrought, filled the
chief with wonder. _
“His work is not yet done,” said 'Adanta,
“ and he does not fear us. Did he ,speak the ‘
truth last night—was it indeed the young white
man who fell into the ravine?” _
“ Could not Adanta see his face when he threw
oi! the blanket?” asked a warrior.
“No; we were in the shadow, and something
I said made him forget, and he spoke In his own V
voice. Before I could drawa weapon or look at . f 
him. he struck me down.” .‘ . 7
“ Ugh i” cried the, warrior. “ He is 8.. eat f
brave. See, the trail leads toward the vi 'age, . - '
and he knows the way.” — , , 
They had now emerged from the pass, and the- v
trail led across the open prairie. he Avenger. “’ 3
had not slackened his speed in the least, or made f
any attempt at hiding the trail from his pur— __
suers, evidently intending to ride through night. .
They pushed their horses rapidly on the tracks,
Adanta keeping in advance, with his e es upon
the trail. A mile from the village he trail
turned into a pass, which led into the ranges
near the temple of the sun. , v
“Why has be gone here?” thought the chief.
“ He cannot escape by this road.” ' . -' .‘
They went u the pass rapidly, and were up  n
proaching the evel, when a sound was heard as
of somethin breaking through the Chaparral on-
ghe lright. t this point the trail ended sudw
en . ‘
“ (yio and see what stirs the bushes,” ordered
the chief, to one of his young braves. . '
The young man dismounted, and hurried Into ,
the chaparral with his weapons ready. Shortly  
after, he came back, leading the black mustang
by the bridle. The beast had been hard run the,
night before, for his flanks were gored by a;
knife-point, and his shoulders flecked with foam,
which had been dry for some hours. The Death
Man was somewhere near at hand. They must
find him out.

. .
'

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CHAPTER XI.
run LONG LOOK AHEAD.

Wm left the party of white men with Kara ~
and her child in the old heathen tern le under
the earth, in charge of the priest o. the sun,

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who had been so suddenly made their friend by
the appearance of Nick O’Connor. It was plain
that they had met before, and under circum-
stances which had placed the priest under obli—
gations to the iant trapper. But, would he be
true to them? he Indian is proverbially treach-
erous, and he could gain great popularity with
his tribe by betraying them to the enemy.

Sunbeam was in doubt, as she thought him to
be a man utterly without principle, who lived
upon the creduhty and superstitions of his race,
a perfect charlatan and yet she had seen in him
some signs of a no le nature, warped by the
wild life he had led before he came back to the
tribe and assumed the priesthood.

“ or look strangely at me, Sunbeam,” said
the priest. “ Do you not think that it would be
best for me to betray this party to Atlanta?”

5‘ Why do you ask that question, when you

. know that I should regard it as an act of the

basest perfidy on your part?” she answered.

“ Very true, Sunbeam. It would be bass and
treacherous, as ou say, but, which course would
pay (inc best? hat is really the main question
now’ ~

“ It is not the main question,” replied Sun-
beam, looking at him steadily. “ I saw your
face when you recognized the rishman, O’Con-

., . nor, and I know that, for some reason, you love

him.” ~

‘»‘ That is very true,” replied the priest. “ It is

' a small matter which I do not care to mention,

but he saved my life once from the Kioways
when'they had the bound to the stake. But

' then, how foolish itis to let asmall aflair like

\

'u on his arm.

 nor or
‘ 1. Another thing: you have been a fighting

that stand between me‘ and my interests. O’Con-
nor is a good man—no better on earth—but I am
a Navajo priest, and ought to betray him.”
Sunbeam lau hed aloud. for she etected un-
der the aflec vail of doubt a strong deter-

rmination to stand by them to the last.

“ This is nonsense,” she said, Is. ying her hand
"Adanta might cut you into
p sees and you would not betray either O’Con-
Kara. Ihave read your heart at last.
man,
and this rb ill becomes you. Cast aSIde the
life of in olent ease which you have lived for
the last six yea and be again a hunter and
warrior, with 0’ nnor as a friend.”

The priest drew a long breath and looked hard

' at her.

'I had “but, what woul

,” he at length half
ecome of you 3’”

‘ I shall find friends, if I once get to the white
settlements. They‘ think mt. dead, and I shall
surprise them when I return and claim my own.

' " You tempt me strongl

' ‘ Think of it,‘six years of death in life, cooped up
.in. this hideous place. But I thank you for

. bringing me here and making me your assistant,

 

for my ofiee has protected me from insult."
, “I thought of that,” said the priest eagerly.
"You can say one thin , Sunbeam. brunli or

. sober. I'have never insu ted you by a look or

word.”
“ That is true,” she added. “ and I have much
to be thankful for. But Ralph—my noble lover

' . —who shall avenge vour death upon this vile

Adanta, the chief?”
v“ was Ralph?”
“ Thermal: who was to have been my husband.-

I saw him fall, fighting like a hero. My father
was already dead, the trappers overpowered, in
little brothers lying bleeding at my feet, and
alone was left. Poor Ralph!”

“ I am sorry for you,” said the priest. “ Where
would you go if you could get back to the set
tlements?”

“ To New Orleans, where I have relatives
living, and many friends who would give me a
shelter and a home. Hark; did you not hear a
noise?”

“ It seems to me that something stirred upon
the floor outside,” whispered the man. .“ Wait;
I will see for myself.”

He looked into the next room and saw no one,
but, ste ping hastily to a pile of skins against
the wa l, he ushed them aside, and a. small,
sharp-looking ndian be was revealed lying

rostrate on the floor. e sprung up and would

ave escaped, but that the priest caught him by
the wrist and dragged him back. V

“ Hal” he cried, assuming all the stern air of
the priest. “ How dare you crawl into my pres-
ence? What are you doxng here, in the temple
of the sun?” .

The boy did not answer, but fixed his small
glittering eyes upon the face of the speaker.

“ You have been sent here to s y u 11 me,
young‘dog. Speak quickly, before strike you
dead at my feet.” '

“Why 5 ould the priest strike a child?” de-
manded the boy, sullenly. “I came because I
was sent, andmy ears have been open. What
have ,you done with Tail Pipe, Kara, and the
boy of Adantai We must have them back.”

he primt caught the lad by the shoulders and
dra ged him into the next room, threatening
his ife if he cried out. The lad kept silent, for
he knew the uselessness of resistance.

“ What have you there?” asked Sunbeam.

“ A spy i” hissed the priest, “who has crept
like a snake to hear what we have said. Give
me that knife in our belt.”

Sunbeam drew ack hastily. “Almifel What
would you doi". A -

“ I would put it out of the power of this young
dog to betray us. I would cut out his tongue at
the roots.”

The boy began to tremble in every limb, and
then to struggle for liberty, but the priest held
him fast.

“ Surely you would not do that!” said Sun-
beam, thhdrawin further, for she su‘pfiosed

‘ e is

that the priest rea y was in earnest.
only a boy.”

‘ The jmall snake will grow,” replied the
priest, ina savage tone. “ Give me the knife. I .
say, and I will cut out his heart and give it to
the sun-god for a sacrifice.” '

The boy was thoroughly scared, and Sun-
beam saw that the object of the priest was to
frighten him into tellingrwho had sent him, and
his purpose in coming; he plan succeeded well,
for, as Sunbeam gave the sharp knife into the
hand of the priest, the boy fell on his knees and
be an to beg for his life.

‘ Listen, young snake.” said the priest. “ Who
sent on up to the temple!” ,

“ cannot tell,” replied the boy; but as the

 

knife was lifted high above him he uttered Q
cry of terror and said; ‘ . 7’ . - m

 

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“ Atlanta sent me.”

“ Tell all!" flei'cely commanded the priest.
“ Why did be send you?”

“ He said, ‘ Kara is in the temple of the sun,
and where Kara is, there also is the child and
Tall Pine. Gotothe temple and crawl like a.
snake until you find where Kara and the child
are hidden, and then hasten and bring the tid—
ings hack to me.”

“ Hal what have you heard 7”

“All the words you spoke to the Sunbeam,”
replied the boy, quickly.

“ You have heard too much,” said the priest.
“ Bring a rope, Sunbeam; this boy must be kept
a risoner.” -

unbeam brought out a lariat, which she cut
into three pleces,,and with this the priest bound
the prisoner fast. Then, bidding Sunbeam go
before and open the sliding-stone, he took up
the boy in his arms and carried him down the
steps into the chamber of the sun-god.

“ Take out the stone on the right,” he en-
joined.

Sunbeam undid a sort of clasp u n the wall,
and took out a mrwtone. revea ing an open-
ing in the wall a ut four feet wide and six feet
long. Into this the young prisoner was thrust;
He could just stand upright in the confined
space, but could not move about. When the
stone was replaced he did not find the place
cordiflned, fora current of air entered it from one
en .

“He is safe for the dpresent,” said the priest,
replacin the stone an pulling the clas into its
place; “ ut this happened nnluckily. e must
get away from here Within two 'day, and be on
our way to the Rio Grande.”

“ You agree to go then?” cried the Sunbeam,
eagerly.

I must go now,” was the answer. “ This
once known, it will be too hot for me in the
Navajo country. Let us go and see the rest.”

They passed by the statue into 'a large room
behind it where they found Ned Dangerfield
lying on his back, studying the old inscription
with the zeal of an anti uarian, and takin
sketches; Nick O’Connor 0 causing his rifle, an
Kara, With a. look of- supreme happiness upon
her beautiful face, watching the slumbers of the
boy who lay upon her knees. The priest stopped
and looked at them quietly.

“ The top av the mornin’ til ye, J im," said

ick, looking up from his work. “Faith, an’

m moightz glad yees have come. Ned, in such
a place as t is, is no use toany man; Kara have
the child on her la , an' won’t look at any wan,
an’ I’m the only to or that’s readyto talk. Come
now, old b’y, sit down foreninst me, an’ let’s have
a chat.” '

“ It is no time forduseless” talk,” replied the

riest. “ We er in an r.
p “Hear til him ’roaredgeNick. “ He’s as bad
as the rist av thim. We used to call him the
‘eddicated sava e’ whin he were on the North
Platte. What’s ghe danger now, ye ould‘divu'l”
“We have caught a young SPY.” replied ,the
retender, “ and have him fast locked up '. m a
hole in the wall. Where is your other friend?
It is surely time you heard from him.”

“He tould us to go on our way Widout think-

in’ av him,” said Nick. “ He’s a. Wild dwil

 

afther scalps, that same Kit Burt. It’s jist fun
for him to make the wool fly.”

“ Surely he will come back,” said Sunbeam.
“ I must see him. Something which Kara has
said has aroused my interest in him, and I must
know who and what he is.” ,

“ He is 'ust the bravest man I ever saw,”
added N Dangerfield, looking up from his
work. “When we were sealed up in the cave '
and thought our lives at an end, he was cool and "
brave, ready to meet his fate like a. man. I hope
nothing has happened to him.” .

“ Does he know the way to get into the temple
when he comes?” asked the priest.

“ He sa 5 that he has been here twice before,
and that e came in by a far different way from . a
the one we used. He hasastrange knowledge ‘ ‘
of everything in the Navajo country.” '

The priest mused for a moment, and then
arose. “ I am going to the villa 9,” he said,
“and I shall be able to judge what ad best be
done when I come back. Remain quiet, for you
know not what may happen in my absence.” . _

The priest was gone for some hours, and came
back to re ort that all was quiet in the village, '-
and that danta and apicked hand had-gone 
out toward the Canyon de Chelle, in search, of
the Avenger, known as the “ Death Man ” who '
had been again at work in the village. “ scan-f '7 '
not leave this place while Adanta is in the
mountains, for we might meet him at an mo- .
ment. We must wait until he returns, an then :
slip away at night.” ‘

‘ We must not stay too lrgvg.”said the Navajo [ .
Queen, with a shudder. “ co to me, and woe « .
to my child if we should fall into Adanta’s
hands new. Look! I have a sharp knife, and
the hands of the chief shall never bind me to the
stake again. Kara will sooner die by her own 
hand, as a Navajo Queen should.” i ‘

She had arisen with her boy brave in her -
arms, his head resting on her shoulder. Her ’ “
brilliant eyes had a look of lofty heroism, and I '
they knew that she would keep her word, should ,.,
the time ever come. ’  5’"

“You have only to keep quiet,” said the '
priest. “ No Navajo dare enter this place with—
out permission from me, the priest of the tem-
ple, and while we kec our prisoner, w eare sate.” »

“I’m thinkin’ ve’d etther have some horses
handy by,” said Nick, “so that whin we go, we
may go nick." » i 

“ 1 she I see to mat,” said the priest fraudly. ‘ 
“You know the man you call Indian 11:1 and -'
he is not a fool. Sunbeam, take Kara and the ._ .‘
child and go to you your room. You who are ’
men can sleep upon the floor of the tom 16.” ‘

Sunbeam signed to Kara to follow r, and-
thejy passed out of the room, and were heard ~
wa king through the lon pasages above . “ ,

After they had gone, t c three men la down
to secure what repose they could, for e did '
not expect to get own from the Indian v lags
without a struggle w ich would test all th r
powers of endurance. ‘ A

The night passed without interruption, but in
the gray morning Nick was aroused by. .1113
touch of a hand upon his face. Hesterted u .
with his _ asp upon a weapon, and saw tr . i
Burt stan mg over him, a lie upon hisstarn' '. a
face. ,  ~'

  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
   
  
   
   
 
   
   
 
   
  
   
 
    
  

‘y' ’ out even this, and, as hestood there in his gaudy

 - and

 

ting down upon a stone.

’ . HE sat for some moments in 'deep thought,
_ and then aroused himself as it with an effort.

3 indeed as I scarcely dare to hope.
,ling—my darling!
'you at last.”

' his hands and face.

 Nava'o.

  in’ high raste to the Navajoes, is willin’ to assist
' .us out 0 this scra e.”

  ‘ceives a Navajo,” said Kit Burt in English.

3 ,5 Grant, and then laid aside the spear, but there
.,was a puzzled expression on his face.

,. ' the gay blanket on thes
, knew the man who wore it.”

~ to the girl you call the Sunbeam. Will you re

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“ Where have ye been?” whispered the Irish-
man. “ Sowl 0’ me body, man, but ye look
fierce as a jaguar.” ‘

“ I have reason to he!” replied Kit Burt,
“for I have had warm work. Look you, Nick
O’Connor, you have been in the Navajo village.
Did on see any prisoners there?”

“ The divil a wan.”

“Still there might be—one whom you did not
see—a beautiful girl, the most lovely woman on
earth."

“I didn’t see any such prisoner,” said Nick.
“Ah! the Sunbeam. Mayhap it’s the Sunbeam
lye m’ane?”

“The Sunbeam? Who is she?”

“ Rest aisy. Ye’il see her in the morning!”

“ I have waited six years,” said Kit Burt, sit-
' “ I can wait still.”

 

CHAPTER XII.
ADANTA ENTRAPPED.

“ She must not see my face at first,” he said,
“,for the shock may be too much for her if it is
Oh, my dar-
After so many years to find

He opened a small haversack which he always
carried with him, and took out a small bottle,
with the contents of which he proceeded to stain
When he had finished, his
face was that of an lndian in color, and his
high cheek-bones added to the delusion. He
now stood up, and throwing ofl.’ his outer gar-
ments, appeared in the full costume of a Navajo
warrior, with the exception of the cap, and
walking back into the next passage, brought

dress, a Navajo might have been deceived.

“ Be the powers av mud, Kit!” protested the
Irishman, “ ye look so much like a Navajo that
me heart’s broke because I on u’t lift er hair.”

Kit gathered up his clothing an carried it
away, and came. back just as the stone was lifted

ndian Jim came doun. The moment his
eyes rested upon the disguised white man, he
caught up a. spear, and but that Nick interposed,
would have attacked the man he took for a

“ ape backl”roared Nick. “Aisy, ye vil-
lain, ais ! This is Kit Burt that I tould ye
about. it, darlin’, don’t let yer angry pashins
idea. This isa fri'nd of ours, who, although play-

“Hal” cried In ian Jim, “this is a Navajo; I
know him well.”
,“ My disguise ought to be a good one if it de-

The priest looked at him in wonder for a mo-
“ This dress,” he said laying his hand upon
houlder of Kit Burt——“ I

“ He will wear it no more,” said Kit, uietly.

“ I am in disguise, and do not (Wish to be nown

 

mom her that?”

“ Yes; shall Kara know?” .

“ It is not necessary,” he replied. “ Hushl
here they come.” -

As he spoke, they heard light feet descending
the steps. the sound 01’ musical voices, and Kara,
carrying her child and followed by the Sunbeam,
entered the room. The moment that the eyes of
Kit Burt rested upon the latter, he started vio-
lcn tly, and stifled a cry which arose to his lips,
apparently with the utmost diflicult , and stag-
gercd to a seat upon the rock wit his hand
pressed upon his heart. Kara looked at him
wildly, for she too recognized the costume which
he wore.

“ Look, priest,” she cried; “ what does the
friend of Adanta here? Have you dared to be—
tray us?”

‘ This is not the friend of ,Adanta,” replied
the priest. “ He is our friend now, and will help
us to escape. Speak, Navajo: is it not true?”

“ I am not the friend of Adanta ” replied Kit
Burt, in a. stifled voice. “ I will aid you to
esca .”

“ t is well,” said Kara. “ I could not believe
that you would be false to me, of all others.
N arramissa,” addressing the priest b his Indian
name, “can he tell us anything of dents. and
his men ?”

“ The have been in pursuit of the Death Man
in the anyon de Chelle,” he replied, still speak-

ing the Navajo language, “ and will return to--

day. After that we must try to escape.”

“ Have they taken the Death Man, then?” de-
manded the priest.

“ No; he was not born to be dtroyed by an
Indian,” replied the dis uised white man.
“ What he has done has sea for a purpose.
His work is accomplished, and from this hour,
unless the Navajoes seek the Death Man, they
will not fall by his hands.”

“ He has wronged the Navajoes much,” said
Indian Jim, in a doubtful tone.

" They have wronged him more,” was the re-
ply. “ All that he loved upon earth crished
under ltheir spears upon the Santa e trail.
Those who died that day had never wronged the
Nava'oes. They were peaceful men who were
trave ing to a. western home for the security
and peace which was denied them before. From
that hour the avenger has been upon the Nava-

joes’ track. That he has done something for re-

venge, let the Navajo annals tell.”

He arose and walked clos'xer to the side of Sun-
beam, looking at her intently. He seemed to
struggle with himself, but con uered at last.

“ I will not speak now,” 6 said, at last.
“ You, too, have been wronged, how much I
alone can tell, for I alone know. Adanta has
much to answer for.”

“ What do you know of my wrongs, Navajo?”
asked Sunbeam, quickly. “ Who are you, for I
see by your face that you are not the man that I
took vou for at first,although you wear his arb?”

“ Kit Burt l” was the answer. “ No dou 1; my
friends have spoken of me to you.”

“ They have, indeed, and have not spoken ex-
cept in terms of praise. Why have you assumed
this disguise?”

“ It was necessary to my urpose,” replied the
young horderer, “and I Wil wear it now until
we are free from these Navajo villains.”

At this moment Indian Jim, who had been in

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the upper part of the ruin, came down to them
with a look of fear on his face.

“ The morning has passed quickly,” he said.
“ It is the time for the priest to appeal to the
idol, and Adanta is at the door demanding ad-
mittance.”

“ Will he come here?” cried Kit Burt, starting
forward.

“ He will come into the room where the idol
stands,” replied Indian Jim.

“ Is his band with him?”

“ No; they are camped in the woods, half a
mile away.’

" Very good. Then tell him that the face of
the sun is clouded, and that he will not speak
until night, and send him away. If he comes
back at night, we shall know what to do.”

“ Leave it to me.” said the priest. “ Narra-
missa is not a fool.” '

He went 'up again into the square opening
made by the ruined walls, where Adanta stood,
leaning u n the spear.

“ Has tie sun—god spoken to his priest?" de-
manded the chief.

“ He has not spoken,” was the reply. “ The
god is mute until the sun goes into the earth,
and then he will speak to Adanta.”.

The chief made a gesture of impatience, for
he did not like this delay.

“ Has Adanta forgotten the past?” demanded
the priest, sternly. “Once the face of the god
was clouded and Adanta forgot his power. If
the great being had not relented, the ashes of
the chief would be scattered tothe four winds.
Will he dare tempt his fate so soon?”

The chief was staggered, for he remembered
how hear he had been to death.

“ What shall I do?” he said, humbly.

“ Come when the sun has gone to rest,” replied
Narramisaa. “ Bring with ou six horses the
strongest and fleetest of al . and picket them
within this lace, for the sun~god calls for a
sacrifice. en you have done this, strike
three times upon the door and Irwill answer.”

“ Is there an thing more?”

“Yes. Spec. to your warriors, the avengers
who follow upon the track of the Death Man,
and tell them to go further back into the woods,
and there wait for you.”

“ Adanta has heard the words of Narramissa
and will do as he commands.”

The chief bowed his head gravely and turned
away. The stately bearing of the priest had
had its effect upon him. and he believed his
words and would obey. Narramissa went down
to his friends with a smile upon his face.

“He will come,” he said, “and he will come
alone at night. My brothers, when we were
safe from the Navajoes. remember that Narra-
missa was your friend.”

“ May divils confound them if they ever for-
get.” replied Nick O'Connor. “ But they won’t,
ould Jim; sorra taste av that same.”

“ You will find that we have memories.” add-
ed Kit Burt. “New, then,'let us wait for the
coming of Atlanta.”

The hours crept slowly on, and the sun went
down behind the hills. A deep gloom fell upon
the ruined temple, and they began to expect the
coming of the chief. Kara was concealed In the

a

 

upper part of the building, and Narramissa was
watching in the outer court. Just utter dusk
the tramp of horses was heard and six Navajoes
rode into the court and dismounted, picketing
the horses within the inclesui'c. '

“ My warriors will now return to the solitary
pine and wait for me,” commanded the chief.
“ See that six horses are brought from the vil-
lage, for the sun-god demands these as a. sacri-
fice. Now, go.”

The warriors silently obeyed, and Adanta ad—
vanced to the door, upon which he struck three
blows. It 0 cued so suddenly as almost to

startle the chief, and Nanramissa stood upon the g '

threshold.

“ Adanta has ke t his word,"said the proud
chief. “ Now, let arraniissa lead the way into
the presence of the sun-god.”

The priest led the way in silence. The stone
was already removed, and they passed without
interruption into the sacred vault, where the fire
was already blazing in the brazier before the

o . ,
“ Let tho Sunbeam appeal'l” cried Nurramissa,‘

in a commanding voice. He had hardly s oken \ '

when the beautiful white girl glided siently
into the vault and took her place beside the
brazier. The priest approached with the cloth
which was always flung over the head of the.
man who questioned the idol, and envelo ed ‘
him in its folds. Instead of leaving him w es ~
his arms were hampered by the cloth, the m’us— _
cular arms of the priest were thrown about his
bodyi pinning him as in a vise.

“ a, Narramissa,” cried the chief, struggling.
“ What would you do?” "

Otherfeet were heard upon the stone floor, 

strong hands were laid upon the chief, and he

was thrown to the floor. Other hands dragged / 

away the cloth, and at a glance he saw the trap
which had been set for him. v

Nick O’Connor was bending over him, holding
a knife at his hrea st. Ned Dangerfield and Burt
held him upon either side, and Nurramissa stood
over him with folded arms, looking calmly down
upon him.

“ Dog—traitor !” hissed the chief. “ Have you
turned against the Navajnes?” . ~

“ Bring the lariats, Sunbeam,” called out N
Dangerfield. “ We have no time to handy words
with him.” ~'

“I will have your heart’s blood for this i”
screamed the chief. “Was it for this you sent
for the horses. that you might escape from the/
Navajo country?” _ r' »

Sunbeam came back with some pieces 01 larla't,

with which the hands and feet of the chief were .‘ ’

tightly bound. He had ceased to struggle, but
there Wnsa malignant cxpressmn in his eyes”,
which boded no good should they ever come in:
to his power. .1
“There!” said Nick, as he tied the last knot
with the hand of an artist. “Now Ihope'ye‘
fale aisy in yer mind. It’s harl ’d totear our-
silves away, but we must
thafe: good-by.”

“You have done much evil, and ought tobe
thankful that we spare your life.

faces of your wife and child again.”

pait. Good~by,‘ye _ I
“We part now, Adanta‘,” said the Sunbeam. -; 5: iv

_ It is punish- 
ment enough to know that you v u‘. neverlee the . “

 

     
   
 
 

 

q...“- «M—s «J‘n-z4 - «Terri—W

.-__A._..._._y ,.i..~m 4'.

'de Chelle.

I ‘~ not large enou h for all.

28 Kit. Burt’s Mask.

1

” Let me bid him farewell,” said Kit Burt,
and as he spoke, he bent and whispered a short
sentence in the ear of the bound chief. He ut-
tered a wild cry of rage, and tugged at his bonds
until the cords cut into the flesh. Kit Burt
laughed bitterly, and rising, signed to the rest
to follow, and left the vault. Ten minutes after
the party mounted the horses which the chief
had so kindly brought, and bade good-by to the
crumbling ruin which had furnished them a
shelter, and which to Sunbeam had been a re-
fuge and a home.

CHAPTER XIII.
-« FAREWELL TO THE NAVAJOES.

THE night was intensely dark, and the clouds
bun .low about the mountains, tokens of the
com ng storm. Perhaps no night could have been
better chosen for their escape unperceived, and
the rty rodevon through the deepening gloom
in s lence, for they knew not at what moment
they mi ht fall in with a wandering Navajo
band. lEit Burt took the advance, and Indian
Jim rode by his side, to aid him by his intimate
knowled e of the country. Behind these came
Nick 0’ onnor with Kara and her child, and
still behind these, Ned Dangerfield and the Sun-
beam. Adanta had chosen the finest horses,
misled by the cunning priest, and they were soon
miles away upon the prairie, toward the Canyon
The storm burst just as they entered
the pass and Kit Burt at once led the way to a

, sheltere ravine, where the horses would be safe

under an overhanging clifii, and they could find
rest in one of those convenient rock shelters,
which he knew so well.

~“ It won’t do to stay here long, I give you
warning,” he said, as he helped Sunbeam to dis-
mount. “ danta isacunning man, and may
escape before morning, and if he does, b? will
waste no time. You see that rocky shel yon-7

"der, Nick. Under that you will find a smalL d

,hole, where the ladies can find shelter. I'w11 ,
fiytsel’f, stand guard in‘the pass while tbs storm
3.

He mounted and rode back, While Nick pro-
ceeded to dispose of the females of the party in
the manner suggested by the leader. The arms
and ammunition were placed in the same recep-
tacle, and the men sheltered themselves as best
they could among the rocks, for the cave was
An hour passed and
therein was fa lin with slackening speed, when
the sound of bee s was heard and Kit Burt
dashed rapidly up.

' ' / “Get the women out as soon as you can,” he

said. hurriedly. “ A large party of Navajoes,
at least thirty in all, are already in the canyon,
and I think I heard the voice of that accursed
Adanta. Hurry, Nick; bring out the horses.”
The two women had learned to be ready for

. danger at all times, and were in the saddle as
‘ soon as the men. The pass they occupied crossed

the canyon laterally, and led into another pass,
not far from the s t where Nick and Danger-
field had met and efeated the force of Navajoes
‘upon the first day. The storm had spent its

.fury, and although the rain still fell, it was with

diminishing force.
‘ “Be careful now,” whispered Kit. “If thev
hear us we are doomed, for in this weather

‘ l‘

 

spears and arrows are better than powder and
ball. Give me that blanket, Ned. Kara has
taken her own from her shoulders to wrap the
boy in. Put this on, Kara; are you comfort—
able, Mabel?”

“Mabel!” cried Sunbeam, forgetting herself,
in her excitement. “ Who are you that know
my name?”

“ We have no time to dally,” he said, hoarsely.
“ Come on.” '

And they rode away slowly through the pass,
leaving behind them the signal-cries and whis-
tles of their pursuers. Who were they?"

We left Adanta lying upon his back at the
foot of the statue, to all appearance bound be—
yond the chance of escape. He looked about
him by the light of the glowing bruzier, his
heart full of rage, for he knew that those he
hated were escaping and by his help. The
thought that he had actual y furnished the
horses for their flight drove him' half-mad.
Would his’men wait until morning. or would
they get impatient and come for him before?
He shouted aloud and only the echoes of the old
ruin mocked him. What had Kit Burt whis-
pered to him that his fury grew so great when
he thought of it? The chief strained at his
bonds with all his power, but they only cut the
deeper into his flesh. Kara was away, and she
had taken with her the boy _upon whose future
his heart was set so deeply. She would carry
him far away and he could never hope tovsee the
child of his love. Again he cried aloud and beat
his head against the stone floor. As he did so,
he heard a slight tapping upon the wall near at

an .

“Ha!” he cried, “ who is there?”

“ Come nearer to the wall. great chief,” cried
a hollow voice. “ It is I, Little Raven, shut up
in the wall.”

The chief could not rise, but he rolled himself
over until he reached the spot in which Little-
Ravsn seemed to be confined. By the light of
the brazier, he saw the clas which confined the
the stone in its place, and y the effort of his
utmost muscular power raised himself against
the well until he could seize the clasp in his
teeth and loosen it. This done, he shouted to
the boy to push upon the stone with his feet and
it fell out upon the floor. A moment after
Little Raven appeared, sliding, feet first, out
{if the cavity. His hands and feet were also

onnr.

 

“ We cannot help each other," said the chief, ‘

in agony. “ You, too, are bound.

“ Little Raven has teeth like a beaver,” said
the boy. “ Let the chief lie down on the floor,
and he shall soon be free.”

The chief understood him, and lay down in
such a position that the boy, by lying upon the
floor beside him, could reach the bonds upon his
hands with his teeth. The lariat was tough,
but the teeth of Little Raven were sharp, and
in the course of half an hour the bonds fell from
the arms of the chief. He uttered a cry of de-
light and quickly threw off the lariat from his
lower limbs and stood erect.

“ Aha i” he cried, “ at last I am free—free.
and those who have insulted me shall feel the
wrath ' of a chief, outraged as no other Navajo

 

 

 

   
  
 

 

 

 



9

   
   

Kit Burt’s Musk.

 

 

chief has been since the tribe was known, and
that in the temple of the sun."

He hastily unbound the Little Raven, who
told him how it was that he was a prisoner
while the chief was occupied in casting off his
bonds.

“It is good,” said Adanta. “Narramissa is
atraitor too and has deceived the Navajoes-for
years. ile shall be burnt alive before the sun-
god. Come.”

They hurried up the steps and away into the
woods where the men were in waiting. Over
three hours had been lost, and the iugitives had
gained greatly upon them. but Adanta hoped to
overtake them yet. and but for the chance of
losing more time he would have gone to the
village for more help. for he knew the desperate
character of the men they pursued; but, they
could not afford to delay, and the party mounted
and rode away toward the Canyon de Ohclle
having satisfied themselves that the whites had
taken that direction. The Navajoes made such
good use of their horses that they were barely an
hour behind the fugitives, and at a time when the
storm was comin in all its fury. This was the
party which Kit urt had seen entering the pass.

It was still intensely dark, and for two hours
the fugitives wound their way through the ass-
es, guided by Burt, who know every step 0 the
ground in the mountains. Nothing had been
heard from the Indians for some time, and Kit.
fearing that they mi ht blunder upon one of
their parties in the dar mess, called a bait, and
the women dismounted in a sheltered ravine,
under a projecting shelf.

“We must wait until morning, although I do
not like to take the chances,” said Kit. “Two
or three Navajo parties are out on the plains,
and we might meet one of them at any moment.
But come; since we must pass the night here.
let me show you a citadel, where we could fight
the whole Navajo nation with a good chance of
success.” '

“ Shall we take the horses?” asked Ned Dan-
gerfield.

“ No; they may as well remain here. but

icket them strongly. Bring all the blankets,
glick, for the ladies are tired out. Daneerfleld,
help Ma—the Sunbeam, and let Indian Jim give
his hand to Kara.”

They turned out of the pass. and began the
asoent of the rocks by a flight of natural steps,
which brou ht them to a rocky ledge. perhaps
eight feet W de, along which they walked with
great caution, aided by the light of the moon
which was now breaking through the banks of
clouds to the East. After a toilsome ascent of
fifteen minutes’ duration. thi= y reached a rocky
platform. at least three hundred feet above the
pass. Along the front of this ran a sort of ram-
part. built up by the hand of nature. The only
approach to this strange place was the one which
they had taken, and behind them arose the tow-
ering sides of a mighty peak, guarding the rear
and flanks of the position. Three men, armed
as this party was, might make a. stand against

an army.

“An best of all.” said Kit Burt, ” there is a
sp ng upon a mountain, about a hundred yards
in he rear. Give us provlsions, and we will
defy the whole NavaJo nation.”

 

“ We have nothing,” said Indian Jim.

:1‘ Adyfgta could besiege us here and starve us to
cut .

Kit Burt laughed merrily.

“ You don’t now me yet, I can see ” he cried.

“ or you would not think me so foolish astotake
such a risk as that. Come here.”

He went back a few paces and began to throw
aside a ile of stones. After a moment’s labor
he disc oscd a large package carefully hidden
beneath. ‘

“ What is this?” asked the ex-priest. '

“ This is one of my old haunts which I keep
proviaded. Now do you think we can standa.
518 e

im nodded gravely and be an toreipecta - . -
man who showed himself so muc of a nerd!  '
in providing against want. Nick, after coking ,
over the position of affairs with a satisfied air,
went down into the pass after something which,
had been forgotten, and the rest were Waiting *-
for him, when the heard a furious oath andthe
rattle of hoofs in t e pass below. The oath came
from the Irishman, and soon they heard him
clambering up toward them. .

“ Ochone, ochonel” he cried. “May the skirts
av~ me coat be me shroud av that little divil
didn‘t turn ivery horse loose.”

“What do you mean?” cried Kit, eagerly, r
starting forward.

“ The little thafe we put in the hoole in the
wall, Jim." - I

Indian Jim started and struck his forehead ,
fiercely with his open palm. He understood -
now that Adanta and the boy had in some tray 
contrived to give each other help, and to follow 
on their track. ’

“They have run us down, then,” said Kit
Burt, “ and the best thing we can’do is to fight' ‘
them. It is lucky that we were near this place; .,
for there is no better spot for defenseinthe
mountains.” ' V

Wild cries of joy announced‘that the Navajo
hand had received Little Raven from his suc-
cessful scouting expedition, and would soon .'
be at hand. The defenders silently loaded
their weapons, and Indian Jim tossed away the
white wig which he had worn so long, took up
the spear and ex. and looked every inch the :,-' '3“
warrior that he was. Kara laid her sleeping '
child wrapped in a blanket in a warm place be- ,-
tween the rocks. and strong her how. The ‘
lioness was ready to fight for her young. Nick
O’Connor, after a single glance at her set face
saw how useless it would be to o pose her, a
made ready his rifle. for the avajoes were
already swarming into the pass, eager for the
fray. ,  ‘ ,
They were des rate men, the pick and flows!"
of the tribe, led y a man whom repeated crosses H
had made almost a maniac. 8. horses WEN;
picketed in the glade, and wit Wild shouts of}! ,
rage they began to spring: up the mkfl- Fivo'
men fell by the deadly miles before they had
passed over a hundred feet. and then for the
same distance the rocks concealed them from
view. The rifles were again loaded: Km fitted .
an arrow to the string and waited just as ’he
Indians rushed out. two abreast, to receive the
deadly fire. The front seemedto wither away
before the Volley, sudtvvo of tho slain were

H‘

i
Ii.

,. i
i


r
.
I.
‘ l;
,.
l

  
  
  
    
 

 

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"‘r .7

:. rr-rflrfr'vfir-"fi1

u 12".

i.
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l};

 

 

' '- '1. not kill me an i set the mark upo

a“

25"

' 'arm hung ;

“hatchet, and they stood man to man.

 

80 Kit Burt’s Mask.

 

Eerced through the bosom by the arrows of
are. and Indian Jim. Yet they did not hesi-
tate or turn aside, and fifteen were left alive
when they came up to the rocky ram art.
Kit Burt had thrown aside his ri e and took
the hatchet and knife, as the weapons with the
use of which‘he was best accustomed, but the
revolvers of Nod Dangerfield and Nick O’Con-
nor, and the arrows of the Navajo Queen and
,Narramissa, we‘re playing with deadly eifect
noon the remaining Indians as they strove to
climb the rocky wall. Ned Daugerfield’s right
' , ‘loss by his side, pierced by a

feathered : “L. Narramissa. was slightly
_ wounded, when five men, heads-d by Adanta,
r forced their way over the wall. One of these

went, down under a blow from Kit Burt’s
Each
singled out an opponent, and Kit Burt was op—
posed to Adauta. Nick O’Connor, dashing aside
the weapons of his immediate opponent, grasped
him by the shoulder and hip, struggled a mo-
ment, and hurled him to the earth with stun-
ning force. Ned Dangerfield, unable to use his
right arm, was warding ofi.’ the blows of his as-
sailant as Well as he could. when a strong arm
shot past him, and a huge fist was planted in the
face of the Indian—a blow which might have
killed an ox. Nick O’Connor had come to the
rescue of his friend. ’

“ Come til me I” yelled Nick. “ Hoorool"
{Narramissa had mastered his enemy easily,
but Atlanta and Kit Burt were engaged in a

deadly struggle as Dangerfield and Nick rushed

to ‘his aid. They came too late, for the iron
muscles of Kit Burt had earned the mastery,
and the chief went dowu and a knife gleamed
above him. But Kara—Kara, who had suffered
so much at his band, who had been doomed to
the stake by him, could not forget that he was
her husband, and caught the descending arm.

“ Save him,” she cried. “ Let him go back to

‘ his people.”
“ Strikol” screamed Atlanta. “I will not
take my life at her hands.”
But Kit B irt’s mood had changed, and call-
ring to his friends, they quickly bound the strug-
glingI ch ici'. 
' “, a, Death Man!" he hissed. “ Why do you
n my breast?”
The Death Man! All recoiled at that terrible
name. Even Sunbeam looked at Kit Burt with
a species of horror. He thrust his hand into his
bosom and took out a bottle, and poured from
it a'fluid into the hollowof his hand, with which
be washed the brown stain from his face. Then,
dashing 03 the helmet cap, he turned upon the
' Sunbeam. '

' “ Do you know me, Mabel Lee?” he cried.
She looked at him in doubt a moment, and

  

' than, with a rapturous cry—" Ralph! Ralph!”

"threw herself upon his bosom.
For the Death Man of the Navajoes, Kit Burt

" and Ralph Swinton, the destined husband of

x,

 ‘.

 

Mabel Lee, were one and the same person.
Saved by Adanta from the weapons of his
men, upon the night when her family were slain
she had been claimed by Narramissa. to aid him
in the temple.
Ralph Swinton had fallen into a den ravine,

' ‘nnd managed to crawl to a place of _ ding be-

 

fore the N avajoes descended to Search for him,
aid though wounded, he had at length recover~

He had nothing to live for then except re—
vengéa, for he did not know that Mabel had been
sav .

He devoted his life to that purpose, and made
himself a terror to the Navajo nation.

He had a. dozen haunts among thehills, and
wot;1 to the single Navajo who dared to cross his

pat .

Until he met Nick O’Connor and the Navajo
Queen he had not even hoped that Mabel mi t
have escaped, but had simply pursued his p an
of vengeance untiringly.

Reunited at last, the lovers clun wgether up--
on that bloody battle—field, while t e rest looked
on with dimmed eyes.

No time was wasted, however. They went
down the mountain-side, taking their prisoner
with them, and mounting some of the best of the
Navajo horses, rode away across the lain.

When twenty miles had been put be ween them
and the mountains, the chief was set free, and
with a characteristic farewell from Nick‘ O’Con-
nor, was allowed to depart on foot. As they
crossed a distant roll of the prairie, they saw him
standing, with folded arms, steadily regarding
them.

His terrible deeds are u on record, and are .

datled from the hour when 6 lost his wife and
chi (1.

Two days after, on the Santa. Fe trail the fugi- '

tives fell in with a. large part of traders going
East, and joined com

an .
At the first station Il‘lic O’Connor and Narra- ‘

missn left them, taking with them Kara. and her
child, whom they promised to protect to the last
dropiof their blood. They faithfully kept their
wor . r

At the post was an army chaplain, and the two
lovers, so strangely reunited, were made man
and wife.

Neither Ral )h Swinton nor his wife ever saw
the faces of t eir friends a sin but every year
letters, strange in orthograp y, but full of hearty
affection, came to them in their Texan home.

Ned Dangerfield went back to the States, but
later in life, accompanied by Indian Jim and
Nick, he penetrated the Navajo country again,
and entered upon a life of wild adventure of
which we have no room to speak.

Ralph Swinton and his wife live in Texas, and

heisone of the largest cattle ranchers in his,

district.

They have not forgotten those terrible- years
spent n the Navajo country, but their very suf-
ferings have endeared them all the more to each
other. When they heard, at last, that Kara,
after her husband’s death, had married the priest
of the sun, and that they wereliving happily up-
on one ot the reservations, where he served as in-
terpreter at the Indian agency, their happiness
was complete. , ’

The son of Adanta grew up a brave and valiant
warrior, and has since me 9 his name famous
among the Navajoes.

Nick O’Connor still follows_the life of a. hunter
and guide, although his hair is growing gray.

m IND.

4..» J 3  v, a ‘ 4,9,, ,{fw '

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

32 Octave Pages.

934?;

 

1 Deerhuuter, the Boy Scent of the Grant North Woods.

Ilv (ill (,‘onuu-s.
9 Bull'ulo lllll, from Boyhood to Manhood. By Col. l’ren-

n~n lnzrnhnin.
3 Kit (‘ursom King 0! Guides. Bv Albert “C Aiken.
4 Gordon Lillle, the Boy-Interpreter oi'the innous. By
Mniur. H. B. Stinhlnnl.
5 Bruin Adrunn,01d Grizziy's Buy Pnrd. By Colonel
Prentiss inzrnhnm.
6 Deadwood Dick on n30 . By Edward L. Wheeler.
7 \Vlld Bill, the Pistol i‘r nce. By Colonel Prentiss
lugrnhnm.
ii The Prairie Ram-h.
9 Roving Joe: The History ofa
ll. Post. .
10 'jl‘fxwlI Jack. the Mnstnng King. Hy Colonel Prentiss
ngrn min.
11 Charley Hkylurk. A Slur nfSchoni-dny Scrape! And
C Aliens Cn wrs. lly Mnjor i. ll. Stoddard.
12 Murlposn “rah. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.
18 Roving Ben. iiy John J. Mnrshnll.
1.1 fl ring- Rteel, King of Ihe Bush. liv J. E. Bndzer, Jr.
15 Vidle-Awake George, the Boy Pioneer. By Edward
'i e".
16 The Boy “ilzurd. Bv Barry Rinmzold.
1? Peter l’eppergruss, the Greeuhorn i‘rumGnthnm. By
Nmih Null.
18 Adrift on the l’rnlrle, and Amateur- Hunter.
on the Bull’qu Rouge. By 011 Coomus.
19 The Fortune iiunter; or, Roving Joe 5. Min",
anhnyI Trapper nnd llunirr. By A. ll. Post.
20 Trn per Tom, the Wood imp. By '1‘. C. Hnrbnnzh.
21 Tel ow llnir, the Buy Chioi‘oi'tne inneos. By Col.
l’ri-ntiss lngrnhnm.
22 The Snow Trnll. By T. C. llnrbnugh.
28 Old Grizzly Adams, the Bear Tamer. By Dr. Frank

Powell.

24. Woods and \‘Vnters. By Curt. Frederick “'hltuku.

26 A Rollin Stone: incidents in the Career on Sea and
Lnnil oi oi. Prentiss lilfli’ill‘itllli- By Wm. R. Eystnr.

26 Red River Rovers. By C. Dunning Cisrk.

8? Plum. nmi Plain: nr. Vi lid Adventures ol"‘Buekskin
Snul.” (Mn'. Snm. S. iinll.) Ry Col. l’. lngrshmn.

28 The Swen Prim-e. 'l he Rnummic Life of Col. Mon-
stery. iiy Cu it. Frederick Whittuker.

29 flnow-Shoe ' nm. . ily 'i'. C. iinrhnngh.

30 Puul lie Inn-y, the French Benet Charmer. By C.
Dunnini: Clark.

81 Round the Cum]! Fire. llv Joseph E. nudger' Jr,

873 White Beaver, the indinn Medicine Chief. By Col.
Prentiss inurnhmn.

38 The Boy Crusader. By (‘n it. Fred. Whittnker.

84 The Chase oi’ the Grout W lite Stag, nnd, (lamp
and Cnune. iiy C. Dunning (finrk.

85 01d ’l‘nr Knuckle nnd iiin ilny Chums. By R. Starbnch.

86 The Dnshluz llrngonn: nr. The Story oqun. Gnome
A. Cnsinr. isy Cont. lv'rrd. Whitinknr.

8? Night-Iluwk George. iiy Col. Prontinn Ingrnhiun.

BR The Boy Exiles oi‘h'lberiu. iiy T. C. iinrhnngh.

89 The Young Henr Hunters. By Morris Itedwing.

40 Ewart film, the Lnd with a Level ilend. By Edward

illett.
41 The Ss-ttler’s San. By Edwsrd S. Ellis.
Wnlt Fer uson’s Cruise. By C. Dunning Clerk.

48 Rifle and evolver. By Grant. Fred. Whittnksr.

44 The Lost Boy Whalers. v T. C. Hnrbuugh.

45 Bronco filly. the Saddle Prince. By Col. lngrnhnm.

46 lfilek, the Stowaway. By Charles Marril.

42' The Colorado Boys; or, Life on an Indigo Plantation.
liy Jnnnph E. Badger. Jr.

48 The Pumpns Hunters; or, Nsw York Boy. in
ilnanns Ayrvl, By T. C. Hnrhnnnh.

4‘! The Adventurous Life of Nebraska Charlie.
By Col. Prentiss inzrnhem.

50 Jack llurry and Tom, the Three Chsmpion Brothers.
iiy C‘npt. Fred. Whittnker.

iii The Your: Lnnd-Lubber. By C. Dunning Cinrk.

5‘) The Boy I eteetives. i3! T. C. Hnrbnilzh.

58 llunest llurrvi or, The ountry Boy Adrift in .1...
City. By Charles Morris.

54 California Joe. the Mysterious Plninsmsn. By Col.
Prentiss inurnhmn.

55 Tip ’l‘ressei. the Floater. By Edward wmm,

By Joseph E. BlillKL‘P, Jr.
‘liurdJ Buy." By A.

 

Price, Five Cents.

     
   

L

D EVERY SAT“

58 The Snow Hunters; or,Wlnur in the Woods. By
linrry de Forrest.
57 Il‘urry Somers, the Snilor Boy Magician. By S. W,

EHI'K'O.
58 The Adventurous Lii’e oi'Cu tnin Jack the
liorder liny. iiy Col. Prentiss ingrn nun. '
59 Lumei 'l‘lru,the Mule Boy of the Mines. By Chnrles
U” B.
60 The Youn Trail lluutern or New Yor
Grizsz will. By T. C. Hummulgh.’ k no". “1
61 The Tiger Hunters or, The colorndo Boys in E19.
phnnt Lnnxl. By Jon: n E. ilndger, r. _
62 Doctor Carver. thu ‘ Evil Spirit" ol’the Plains. By
Col. Prvutiu in nhnm.
68 Black Horse ill, the Bnndit Wrecker.

Stnrlmck.
64 Young Dick Tnlbot or A no ‘3 Ron h I
Fight from New York 31.0 Coliion’uin. B; 
65 The Roy Pilot; or, The Island VVrucker. By Cal.
’rentiss innrnhnm.
66 The Desert Rover or, Slownwny Dick Among ths
rnbii. liy (illnries ll orris.
6? Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger. By Col. Prentiss
68 Liii'i""iéih 'n Y r n
. c, e- or 1 mm .
69 T‘l‘ Brain ” Ad’mns’. a g “r “man By Gupta“)
Ie 'oun Vihlllst or Al’n k Bo
Rnssinns. Ihy‘Chnrien hlorrls. n a y Among a“

By Roger

2‘0 l‘uuv the Cowho ‘3 or, The Young Mnrshnll’s Raid.

liy :\an(vr u. n. Stm mm), Fix-Scout.
71 Rx‘ii' "chart and "is Bear. By Captain ” Bruin "

Hill'-
72 The Ice Elephant. Bv Capt. Frederick whitish".
By Willinm H.

73 The quuk Moose-Hunters.
By Rn er Sturbuok.

Manning.
74 The Boy Coral-Fishers.
75 Revolver Billy, the Boy Ranger 0 Texas. By Col.
Prentiss lnzrnhmn.
By T. C. Hnrbnngh.

$6 The Condor Killers.

 

S ’ I
@013 95’" ’
k

'l’ Lud Lionheeis, the Young Tiger Fight-r. By Roger

Sltll'hlic .
78 Flutbont Fred. By Edward Wiiiett
79 Boone, the Hunter. Ry Cuptnln i“. Whittaker.
80 hcutueky Ben, the Long Rifle of the Cnscndal. By
Roger Stnrhnck.
RI The Kit Carson Club. By '1'. C. Hnrbnnxh.
89 Little lIIu-k the llny Guide. By Barry Ringgnld.‘
83 Pony “oh, tin Run-hire» Rider. By Cul. P. lngrnh
2g gumuilu ll‘t‘lyl'd'w-P'i ht. BEV Jlosrph E. Bridger, Jr.
.11 n n n |,t-e oung xpnrer. llv 0.0. ‘ .
86 Little Duu Illooku. ' um“
87 The Menu erle Hunters. By Mn‘. H. Grenville.
88 The Boy rumnsl or, Life Among he Gipsiu. By

J. hi. i nil'mun.
By C. D. Clnrk.

89 ‘lnuurshore LUe.
90 Roving Rifle. 's .iitieSmnt. By T. C. Hsrbanuh.‘
By Roger Stnrbuck.

ill "rem II n (ssh, thu Wiznrli lllfln.

92 llurl (-nm- Kit. By A. I“. Holt.

93 Jllunplnlg Jake, the Colorado Circus Boy. By Brynn:
ininhrh no. I

94 Sum fine-mo, llll' Brondhnrn Boy. By Ed. Wiliott.

95 Morteow tn Siberia; or, A Yankee Bay to the Rescue.

By Cllfll‘lt'l! Mom...
96 Fighiin Fred. 8v 1‘. C. Harbnu h.
unnlng Clerk.

9? Cruise 0 'the l-‘

9" The Boy Vi IIII tel. B in. H. B. Stoddard.

99 The \Vhlte ‘iners. Bv Apt. Chsrlss Howgfll.

100 The snow-libero ’i‘ruil. By St. Georg 11mm...

101 Min-hum, the Ottnwn Girl. By Edward . Ellis,

10% The Flynwuy Aflunt. By C. Dunning Clark.

108 PM. )‘lulloney’s Adventures; or, Silver Tongus
the Dncntnh Queen. By C. L. Edwnrdl.

104 The Boy Prospector. By Role! Starbuck.

105 Mluouee, the Wond Witch. By Edwin Emu-son.

106 The. Boy Cruisers. By Edwnrd Wiiiett.

107 The Border Rovers" By J. Milton Hnflma'h

103 Main... the \"oii-Qnuun. By Capt. Howard Linear...

Beudlo’s Boy’s lernry is fer sale by :11 Nswsdusiers,

five cents per copy, or sent by mnil on ruoipt oisix cents mh.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Puhlhhorl,

98 William Street, New York.

By Morris Red wing.

 

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0
..

    

.—

 

run. '

s

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   
 
  
 
 
 
   

 

 

 

 

1.09 ghgfiotian Jim, the White Man’l Friend. By Edward
9

10 Plueky Joe, the Bny Avenger. By J. M. Hoii‘nmn.

11 The “order Gnnmuker- KV mm?! In "Dwell-

12 Len-"unde Pete. By Joseph E. Badger. Jr.

18 The River Rifles. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams.

14 Alone on the l’laina. B v Edward “'iileit.

15 Silver Horn, and His Rx e Firedeath. By Roger
Storbnck.

1111 Ex lolts ofllezekinh Smith, the Bncliwoodeman.
By meer Rodman.

1’? The Young Muster-were. By C. Dunning Clark.

18 (Did Trn A; «r, the Hay Rivals. By Barry Ringguld,

I» Center 9 01,. the White Crow. By T. C. liarbanzli.

20 A “at Trail; or, Clark ClovariyAmong the Tartnrs.
E Charles Morris.

21 l untur Pal-d Ben. By Roger Starhnnk.

22 he anulmnux’ Queen. By G. Waldo Browne.

28 Tim, the Boy Acrobat. By Charles Morris.

24 ?ueen Beanie, the Border Girl. By Henry .l.Thomnn.

25 ’ om Tabor, the Bay Fuzllive. B Barry Ringunlil.

26 Mink Coat, the Denth-Shot. By an. E. Badger, Jr.

’3‘ The Deer Hunters. By John J. Mnrelinll.

23 wanton} ; nr The Night-Hawks ol‘ the Fire-Lands.
By Capt. (, an. award.

129 %l_fiel;apur; or, The Mountain Heroine. ByEdwm-d

l at.

80 Keetneo, Qua-m o the Plains. By Percy B. St. John.
81 Wintnh, the Child Spy. By George Gleason.

82 The Inland Trupper. By Chnrlei Howard.

88 The Fur-eat Specter. By Edward Wiiiau.

184 Wild Not, the Trooper. By Wm. R. Eyater.

* 136 The Silver Bugle. By Lleut. Col. Huelton.
186 The Prairie Trapper. By C- Dunning Clark.
18‘? The Antelope Boy. By Geo. L. Aiken.
188 Long Shot; ur, The DwarfGnide. By Capt. Cornetock.
139 colonel Oroekett, the Beer King. By C. E. Imaalle.
140 Old Pegs, the Mountaineer. By Lewis W. Canon.
141 The Giant lluuter. By Harry Hazard.
1L2 Black Panther. the Half.Blood. By .1. E. Badger.
148 Carson, the Guide. By Lieut J. H. Randolph.
144 Kent, the Ranger. By Edward S. Elli».
145 Bill Rohbinn, Hunter. By Edward Willatt.
146 The "elf-Breed llivul. By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.
147 The Marked Avenger. By Cnl. Prentin lum’ahmn.
1415 N315, the 'l‘rnpper and Indian Fighter. By Paul J.
‘ Prescott.

 

140 The Elli Demon; or, The Giant Brothers. By T.
' C.Harhlugh.

150 The Boy Multan Jinnter; or. Eanlalie, the
Beautiful Amaaon. By rederick Whittaker.

151 Frnnk Ynten, the Ynnnz Tm per; nr, Mountain
Knte‘a ernlng. By Jn-u-ph E. Bar nor, Jr.

. 152 Wild Raven, the Scout. By Oir L‘ootnee.
'158 Lynx-(mp; or, Fnur Trappora’ Among the Sioux. By
Paul Bihhn.

154 The Champion Texnu Rider; or, Red Builalo,
“I

« and the Hnrcu Hunter. By Harry St. George.

155 Dzmky Dick‘l Doom. By Jon. E. Badger, Jr.
156 Frnnk “ell, the Boy Spy. By Oil (Tunnel.

157 Nick Doyle, the Gold llunh-r. By P. H. Myerl.

158 Kidnapped Dick; or, The Fate of the Fire Fly. By
'. Stanley Heath-ruin.

159‘ Sum’! Long Troll: or, The Twin Scouta.
Hamilton.

160 llank Triplct’a Vow. By Harry Hazard.

131 The Mod Skipper. By R. btnrhnck.

162 The Trapper King. By Maj. Max Martino.

168 Simon Kenton. Hunter. By Elllerlon RmimHh

161 an Boy Chief: or, Frank Bell'a Compact. By oil
me.

By W. J.

 

165 The Trader Trnlior. By .1. Stanley Henderson.
1456 Old June’s Cit-w. By Mn. Orrin lnmel

167 The Young Trailer. By W. J. Hamilton.

168 The Specter pr. By Maj. Lewis W. Carson.
169 Lnnk Lute, the Old Culnmdo Hunter. By E. w,

Archer.
170 The White \Voli’. By Edward Willett.
171 The Swamp Guide. By W. N. McNeil.
172 The Yonkers I’eddler. I By C. Dunning Clark.
173  lScout and Ilia Young Chum. By Warren
. 0111.

174 Blnrkumith Tom’s Monk. By Geo. 1). Gilbert.
175 The Buckskin Rider. By Guy Greenwmd.

176 The Squattcr’n Surpriuc. By Mn. H. J. Thomas.
1’2"? Four Fellow Scouts. By J. Stanley Henderson. '
178 Old Kit and Ilia Comrades. By Jon. E. Badger, Jr.
179 Uncle Griil’a lllnguinc. By Harry Hazard.

180 The Mnrked Miner. By Lienl. Col. Haznltine.
181 The “'ild lluntresn. By Capt. Bruin Adnma.
132 The Dqu-i’lleooy. By Mare 0. Ruli'e.

183 Job Doun’n Tin-tics. By lngnlduby North.

184 Yankee Eph’a liilelnmn. By J. R. Worcester.
185 The VVlly “rite-11’s “’nrd. By Edwin E. Ewing.
186 Frank, the Furrier. By .1. Stanley Henderson.

18’? Diana, the Fair Mountaineer. By Capt. F. Whittaker.
188 Jnck’n Snare. ‘By Mn. Ann E. Porter.

189 Sam, the Swamp Smut. By W. J. Hamilton.

190 The Dnehing Trooper. Dy Frederick H. Dewoy.
191 The Boy Brave. By James 1.. Bowen.

192 Sandy Bill, of Texan. By Edward Wiiiett.

198 Harry Winkie’s Long Chase. By Wm. B. ‘
Eyster.

194 Cree er Onto, the Shadow Swamp Trailer. By
Fruder ck Dewey.

195 The Rnnger Detective. By Harry Hazard.

190 Gypay Mug, the Mountain Witch. By C. Dunning
Clerk.

197 The Branded Contain. By W. J. Hamilton.

198 014.1 Crowilre'a (Jr-lain. By Capt. Charlca Howard.

199 Zebrn chk, the Tenn. By W. J. Hamiltnn.

200 The Nnmeloan llnnter, By George W. Rohlnwn.

201 The Yankee Captich By Edward Wllleti.

202 Tcddy'a Lona- Truii. ByEdwari-l 5. Ellis.

203 Old llnnk, Ehe Hermit. By Edward W. Archer.

204 Goonr-Ilrnd‘u Beat. Shot. By Jan. E. Badger, Jr.

205 The Dntohlnnn’n Ill-end. By Capt. Chan. Howard.

206 K11: Burt’s Mush. By W. J. Hamilton.
Rrudy'hlnrrh 94.

20'? Eagle-Eyed Tim.
ltvmiy Mnrcthl.

208 The Village Sport. By James L. Bowen.
Ready April '1. ‘

209 Thu-k Burt’s Pluck.
lie,me April 14.

210 The Tull-Tale Bullet. By J. Stanle Header-on.
finally April 21.

211 The Boy Surveyor.
Rvndy April '15

By C. Dunning Clark.

By Edward Willot.

By W. J. Hamilton.

“endle’a Iloy’a Library In fur snln hy all Newadualero,
live centnjusr hnpy, or sent by mail on receipt of Ill cent! each.
BEADLE AN I) ADAMS, Publishers,
98 William Street. New York.

.n..n. .

M