$2.50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams 1- I...
NO.  A Year. No. 9;; WILLIAM ST” NEW “mm , Flverdéntu.  

 

 

 

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“ms, mm ARE FOOTPBINIS,” SAID ROY; “WEOEVER IT WAS ESCAPED.”

 

 
  

 

 

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and Head. the Double Dodger.

 

 Had, the Double Dodger;
THE SPIRIT oi? STORM LAKE.

BY OLL CDOMES,
: amoa or “EBONY Jim’s mason,” “SHARP-
snor MIKE," “ran PREACHER
DETECTIVE,” ETC.

CHAPTER I.
THE SPIRIT on THE LAKE.

Time: a summer night in the year 

Place: the edge of a forest skirting Storm
Lake, a body of water in the then territory of
northwestern Iowa.

Scene: a camp-fire burning in the edge of the
forest, around which were seated three men,
hunters and trappers of the great Northwest,
answorin to the names of Town Vanslow, Roy-
ston St. laire and Loamiah Symbro. .

Town Vanslow was the eldest of the grou
being probably five-and-Eorty. He was one 0
those 'strong, rude men, whose life had been
spent in the o in air, and whose physical exer-
tions and bac woods training had done every
thing in developing his muscular proportions,
bodily strength and enduranca, and iron consti—
tution. As a hunter and scout, Town Vanslow
was inferior to none.

Royston St. Claire was a young man of five-
and-twent , quite handsome in form and feature,
with the aring which eVer indicates moral
culture and intellectual refinement. He was
not a professional hunter, but a citizen or settler

' of Pleasant Prairie and had come up to the lake
in company with his friends to assist in taking
fish and procuring game to add to the delectables
of his wedding supper, which was to come ofl on
the morrow evening at the settlement.

The third person, Loamiah Symbro, was a
man of some thirty years, rather tall and awk-
ward-looking, with features somewhat feminine,
and eyes that at once indicated a large degree ol"
self-importance and a small degree of physical
courage. Like Roy, he was not a professional
hunter, but had joined the party, feeling himsolf
competent for any undertaking in which there
was no danger; but, in their present location the
garty was not entirely tree from danger, though
ranslow had reported they then. were in safe

'{quaw in. 0 or to keep Symbro’s nerves
qu e / .

The party had left‘Plessant Prairie the previ-
pus morning, and having made a fruitless tramp
through the forest all day, went into camp at
night on the banks of the lake,'cxpecting to re-
new the ob ect of the expedition in the morning.

Before t ey went into camp, Vanslow had
made certain that no Indians were in the vicin-
ity for, at that time, the great Sioux chief,

Suiommadotah, was on friendly terms with the

whites, and his village was only abOut five miles
north of where the party then were.

Finding the coast clear, as the old hunter sup-

, a. fire was struck and some venison and

sh skillfully prepared according to the old hun-

ter’s notion of theculinary, art among the back-

woodsmen.  '

 

  

Each one partook of the repast with a keen
relish, and finally, when the. meal was dis-
patched, the trio took their pOSItions around the
camp-fire in various attitudes of ease, when Lon.
miah Symbro turned to the old hunter and said:

“Suppose you tell us that story, Town, that
you romiscd us today.”

“ ’ out Red Star, the Spirit 0’ the Lake?”
asked the old hunter.

h Yes-77

“ Tell it by all means, Vanslow,” said Roy.
“I should like to hear it. I have often heard
reports of this Spirit of the Lake, though I have
nevirl'ieard anything in regard to the supposed
s ir t.

p“ Supposed spirit 1” exclaimed Vanslow. “ Do
you mean to say that it’s a. no~go yarn—only a
make-up story 3”

“Why I had always supposed it was just a.
superstitious story started by the Indians in
hopes of keeping those who felt disposed to be-
lieve it away from the lake,” answered _Roy‘.
“ Such stories are prevalent along all frontiers."

“ Wal, if you take this fura no—go story, you’re
sadly mistaken, for I, Town Vanslow, hunter
and trapper o’ the Great West, hev see’d the
Spirit 0’ the Lake with my own eyes.”

“Then I am sure the story Will be of more
than passing interest, and am quite ready to
hear it.”

“ Wul,” said Vanslow, resting his elbow on
the ground, and his chin in his palms, “ the
story’s jist as spicy as it’s short, and sounds as
preposterous as it’s true, and to begin at the be-
ginnin’, it’s a fact that thar’s a man, or sunthin
like a. man, see’d walkin’ on the water 0’ this
very lake jist like I’d walk outer the ground.
But the man, or spirit as he’s called, seems stifl
in his legs, and kind 0’ drags his feet, which are
nigh as big as his body.”

“Ha! ha! he!” laughed Loamiah Symbro.
“ That’s jist as tough a yarn as I’ve ever heard.
The ridiculous idea of a man walkin’ on the sur-
face of the water ort to he laughed out of exist.
once. Sich a thin has never been did since the
time Christ walks on the sea, and it’s all bosh
to say so.” .

4‘ But I do say so,” returned Vanslow, em-
phatically, “ fur I’ve seen the man, spirit, or
whatever it is, with my own eyes, and when
Town Vanslow sees enny thing he sees it.”

“ Well, sir, I, Loamiah Henry Symbro, would
like to see the critter. 1 come into this heathen
country for information, and when I return to
Sodom, Kentucky, I calculate to write a book of
my adventures in these wilds. How often have
you seen the spirit friend Vanslow?”

“Three times. The first time it war wrapped
in a blanket, and come out on the water ’hout
half-way from the island in the middle 0’ the
lalke,dthen turned and went back around the
is an .‘

“V And walked on the water 1” questioned
Symhro. __ - v

" Yas; yet as easy as I walk outer the ground,
and a good ’eal easier, fur it went like a streak
o’ greasod lightnin’.” , .

“And was it black, white or red?” 

“ I never 3;, 11,1};

5. great f .~ , t‘v‘wore. on its head.

 

the.
_, F =«~.‘-*By«li I, _rh€fl’"éiaeula' tanked-important, E

I: .l

 

 .5;

6, ’cause it kept ighid in],

 

 

an,  ‘

 

 

  

 

 

 

 
     
    
 

 

‘ Symbro.

~, the water.

7 moveupomskates. He was 0
- island ‘ "

Bald ‘Head. the Double Dodger. V , 3

 

“ I’d like to get a squint at the creator
and I’d take notes for my book. When do you
generally see the rpirit’fl’

“ At night, allers. The fu’st time I see’d it, it
had two great Wings 0’ fire reachin’ out from
each shoulder and lighting up the water for sev-
eral feet around with a pale, red glare.”

“ And it was walkin’ on the water?” demand—
ed S mbro. a rain. .

“~ Iaven‘t told ye so?" returned Vanslow
'crustil y. “ Yas, sirl it walked, or scooted along,
on the water jist like I’d walk outer the ground
—-understand thet, now l—and it carried a. toma-
hawk with five edges, an(l—”

“ Five edges!" exclaimed Symbro, in derision.
“ Ho! ho! ho! I’m ’[eared there’s more fiction
than truth in your story, Town.”

“ That’s purty plain contradicshun, but con—
siderin’ the source, I’ll go on. The spirit carried
a tomahawk with five edges so arranged that it
left an impression wherever it war struck in the
shape 0’ a‘star.”

“ How do you know it (loos, Town?” asked
Symbro.

“ Humphl haven’t you ham 0’ Red Star, the
Spirit 0’ the Lake. that leaVes his totem on the
for’ead o’ the Iujins when he slays ’em? This
critter is the owl genius 0’ the savages, and

. wharever he comes across one he kills him, and

then gives him a dig on the for’ead with the five-
edged tomahawk, and as the blood oozes out and
congeals in the wound it makes it look like a
blood-red star with five p’ints; and that’s Why
the spirit is called Red Star; and new you have
the story in full.”

Loamiah Symbro laughed as though he doubt-
ed the story; but, as preposterous as it sounded,
Roy was too well-bred to show any doubt, even
did he regard it as utterly preposterous.

Here the subject of the Spirit of the Lake was
allowed to drop, and as the night were on, St.
Claire and Symbro stretched themselves upon
the ground near the fire and soon fell asleep
while the old hunter remained awake upon
guard. ‘ ,

The hours stole on, and still the old hunter
continued his watch by the side of his sleeping
friends.

An intense silence revailed; then, to the ears
of the hunter, came t e sound of the water gent-
ly chafing the shore. He turned and glanCed
out upon the bosom of the lake, only to start
with sudden surprise, for he beheld the figure
of a man with enormous feet walking upon the
surface of the lake, with long, shuflling strides.
Great wings of fire reached out from either
shoulder, casting a lurid glare over the water and
relieving the outlines of the flying form from the
fog and gloom. The head and face of the mys-
terious creature were concealed in a fur hood
that was closely fastened under the chin. A
gray blanket was thrown over his shoulders,
and, hanging down behind, one corner trailed in

n his hand he clutched a tomahawk,

while at his back was huu a rifle by means of a

strung-passing over his shou der.

 

0 re was moving rapidly as one would
g“ in from the

‘ that stood in ,the . , lake to-
wardtheeastshoré. « . " ~    7
* , gown Vanddw stood upon the swimmers, ‘

  
 

 

 

and though some distance away, the‘light of

the blazing wings plainly revealed the form of '

tihekflyiug figure—Red Star, the Spirit of the
a e.

Arousing his two friends, the old hunter called
their attention to the mysterious figure.

“ By the amphibious Jehokeysl” exclaimed
Loamiah Symhro, rubbing his eyes. as it clear-
ing them from a. mist that had suddenly come
over them; “ it that isn’t the Spirit of the Lake,
I’ll be shot!”

“ It is the Spirit, beyond a doubt, improbable
as Town’s story seemed, returned Roy. “ To
me it is a. mystery. I cannot believe in ghosts
and spirits, and yet it seems as though that V
creature is possessed of supernatural power to
enable it to walk upon the water.”

“ It’s a spirit, boys! it's a spirit!" returned
Symbro, somewhat agitated, “ and I think it
advisable to he makin’ ourselves skerse in these
parts. I believe in ghosts, Mr. Roy." ,

"There—see! It has reached the shore i”
cried the old hunter. .

Just then the flying figure reached the east-
ern shore of the lake, and at that instant the
red wings of fire dropped from his shoulders
into the water, and all was total darkness
again. The figure was lost in the double gloom
of night and fog. The waves that circled out
from its wake, grew fainter and fainter as they
chafed the shore where our friends stood, thor-
oughly amazed.

or some moments the hunters stood profound-
ly still, looking away into the gloom, expecting
to see the spirit appear again.

Town Vanslow was the first to speak.

“Wul, Mr. Loamiah Symbro, I s’pose ye
h’lieve me now, ’bout the Spirit 0’ the Lake?”

“ Yes, yes,” drawled Symbro, tremulously;
“but I don’t understand it.”

“Nur does ennybody that hez ever see’d the
critter,” returned Town.

“ How long since it was first seen here, Town i”
asked Roy.

“ It war fu’st see’d here ’bout three years ago,
but no one that hez see’d it, knows whether it’s
a man or spirit: but it must be the latter, ’cause

,aman in the flesh couldn't walk on the water

like it does."

“ Who else besides yourself has seen it?”

“ A pertickler friend 0’ mine. named Bald
Head, says he’s seed’d at a number 0' times. He
saw it spot an Ingin one day in a jili'y.” ~

“ Jehokeyl” exclaimed Symbro, with no little
fear in his voice; “what it the durned thing
comes ’round here on its ‘spottin” arrange-
ments.”

“ You would stand a chance of getting some
notes for your book of adventures,” returned

oy.

“Humphl—yes, and git my hair lifted. I
have no desire to he foolin’ with spirits, butI
wouldn’t have the least objection to warmin’
about a dozen red-skins about now.”

“ I haven’t the least ijee but what you’d run
if you should 'see an Ingin,” said Town, nudg-
ing St. Claire. '

‘Town Vanslow'l” exclaimed Loamiah, fear-
lessly, “do on take me—Loamiah Henry
Symbro—tor a coward? gFor as sure us

my__”

    

 

4 . Bald Head9 the

 

Double Dodger.

 

Just then a low, savage wail echoed through
the forest faintly, at quite audibly. Symbro’s
words died on his ips half-spoken, and his face
visibly paled. .

Boyston St. Claire turned involuntarily to
Town for an explanation.

The old hunter made no response to the silent
inquiry, but, turning, be stirred up the embers
of the camp-fire and put on fresh fuel. In a few
mopientsa glowing fire lit up the surrounding
gloom, and the light showed t _e bronzed face of

own Vanslow to be clouded With an expression
of excitement and anxiety.

“ What is the matter, TOWn‘l" asked young
St. Claire; “you seem uneasy. Do you think
we are in any danger?”

“ I don't like that noise,” returned Vanslow;
“ thar’s reds around, and I’ll have to make a
scout into the woods and see into the matter.
And while I’m one, you’ve got to keep your
files peeled, or t e widder Clenham ’11 never he

s. Roy St. Claire.” '

St. Claire blushed at the rude man’s words,
and replied:

“Very well, Town; we will watch until you
return; but, do not be gone too long.”

The old hunter took up his rifle and plunged
into the gloom, heading in the direction whence
the low, savage wail had come.

He had gone but a few paces, when his hands
came in contact with somedark object lying
upon the ground beforelhim. He started back
with a shudder. His hands, where they touched
the object, were wet.

Vanslow bent over the figure. The skull was
crushed, and upon the forehead, and extending
down below the eyes and back into the hair, was
a deep cut in the shape of a star with five points.
From this wound the blood was still welling and
trickling down the brown, dusky face onto the
dry leaves.

Town Vanslow, like all other rude bordermen,
wasa little superstitious, and as he gazed upon the
dead savage and the bloody wound from which
the warm, crimson tide was still flowin :, he felt
a chill pervade his form. Full well he knew the
meaning of that gory star. , .

It was the totem of that mysterious creature,
Red Star, the Spirit of the Lake—the evil genius
of the redskins—the wonder and fear of the
white man.

For a moment only, did the hunter pause by
the fallen brave. He mo wed on, and in all an
hour made the circuit of the camp, touching the
lake about a hundred yards above that point.
But he saw nothing further to arouse SUSDlClOn
or fear, and turning, he moved away toward the
camp.

In a moment he stood within the light of the
camp-fire, horror and surprise written upon his

ace.

Royaton St. Claire and Loamiah Symbro were
gone! Marks of a desperate struggle were upon
the ground. And  add to the hunter’s per-
plexity and confustou of _m1nd, a dead savage
was lying near the fire, his head eleven and the
glaring totem of the Spirit of the Lake stamped
upon his forehead!

“ Painters and polars! exclaimed vanslow,
scratching his head in perplexltyi “ deliver me
from the conflamugated mystery! The boys are

   

gone, and w’ether the red-skins or the Spirits
got’em—Why. that’s what I don’t know: but I
mustn’t lose enny time in seein’ arter ’em.”

As Vanslow concluded his soliloquy, he drop-
ped his rifle into the hollow of his arm, tight-
ened his belt around him, saw that his side-arms
were in place, then turned and advanced toward
the lake. But, ere he had get beyond the
radius of light, a heavy hand was laid upon his
shoulder.

 

CHAPTER II.
THE vows: or THE SPIRIT OAK.

INDIAN CREEK flowing from the northwest,
and Bear Creek from the northeast, joined their
waters and formed what was known among the
Indians as Death Channel—so called, probably,
from the blackness and depth of its water, the
height of the banks between which it flowed,
and the dense growth of ehns and wild vines
that grew upon either shore, and, interlacing
their oughs and foliage, excluded nearly every
rag of sunshine from t water.

oursin south, one mile and a half from the
junction 0 the two smaller creeks, Death Chan-
nel em tied its waters into Storm Lake, and was
naviga le for the largest-sized canoe.

At the head of Death Channel, and in the
forks of Indian and Bear Creeks, was situated
the Indian village of Sidominadotah, the great
Sioux chief.

The lodges were arranged in several rows or
streets running from one creek to the other.

About ten feet from the head of Death Chan:
nel, and e i-distant from the two creeks, stood,
a giant 03%. Fully three feet in diameter, towa
ering up a hundred feet, clean-limbed, clear of
knots, holes, or blemishes, it was the pride and
monarch of the surrounding forest. At least the
Indians so considered it, and had taken a super-
stitious fancy to it, believing that the winds
that whistled through its to were the voice of
the Great Spirit communica ing with the earth
through the medium of the oak. Thus believ-
ing, they had made it the center-post to their
council-lodge, and by them it was called the
Spirit Oak.

About sunset on the evening previous to that
on which our story opens, Sidominadotah stood
alone upon the banks of Death Channel, about
midway between his village and Storm Lake.
He was an aged man, yet he stood erect as the
forest oak, his red blanket thrown over his mas-
sive shoulders, and his eyes flXed upon the ground
in a kind of melancholy abstraction.

Presently a quick swashing of the waters in
the stream before him arrested his attention.
He clutched his tomahawk in his trembling hand
and advanced closer to the shore. Just then
he saw the dark figure of a man with enormous
fe't glide before him, walking upon the surface
of the water!

So swift did he glide apast the chief that be-
fore he could raise the tomahawk, the myste-
rious figure was gone beyond his sight. '

“ Red Star, the Spirit of the Lake," muttered
the aged chief, whose whole frame was trams
bling with emotion. “ To-morrow’s sun w

shine upon the face of another of my braves,

 

 
     

 
    
  

 

 

x .__..

).

 

 

h Bald need. the Double Dodger. ‘ ' s s

 

slain by the Spirit, and bearing the totem of the
Red Star.”

“ Sidominadotah’s voice is sad, and his frame
trembles like the Spirit Oak in the storm."

It was the voice of one of his young chiefs,
who had a preached him unseen.

“ Yes,~V$ar Eagle,” said Sidominadotah, ad-
dressing the young chief. “ Sldominadotah has
seen the curse of the Sioux nation, and he trem-
bles because he knows tomorrow’s sun will shine
upon the face of a dead Sioux, bearing the totem
of Red Star, the Spirit of the Lake, emblazoned
on his brow.”

“It is bad,” returned War Eagle, the young
chief ; “was the dread Spirit going toward, or
from the village?”

“Toward the village, and walking upon the
water with the speed of the wind,” returned the
aged chief.

“ And does my father believe the Red Star‘

a s irit?”

‘ He does. The evil spirit of the Sioux. No
man could walk upon the water like it does.”

“ What will my father do?”

“Go back to his village. Then tell his peo-

le that the Spirit of the Lake is hovering near.
That death lurks around them. He will then
consult the Great Spirit through the Spirit OuK.
He will ask for the power to destroy the Red
Star, the curse that slays my braves when they
wander forth to seek the deer in the forest.”

“ The great chief is wise,” returned War
Eagle. “ the Red Star must be destroyed, or his
warriors will fall one by one, until he will be left
alone, a withered, branchless trunk.”

“ The spirit of the War Eagle is young, but
his head is old.”

Slowly and sadly the two chiefs returned to
the village.

By this time it was dark, and a mist was ris-
ing from the streams and hovering over the vil-

age.

As soon as he entered the village the old chief
made known his discovery, and sent runners to
warn the village throughout that Red Star, the
Spirit of the Lake, was lurking near.

Sentinels were posted all along both streams
and through the village, and every precaution
t ken to guard against their terrible and silent
{g . No warrior or squaw was allowed to go
beyond the confines of the encampment.

Sidominadotah sought the solitude of the
Council Lodge, when he had seen that the ne~
eessary precautions were taken, to commune
with the Great Spirit. He found on entering
the lodge that War Eagle had built a fire there-
in and the place was aglow with light.

he lodge was a large, cone-shaped structure,
made of skins, and from its center the Spirit
Oak reared its stately form.

The chief closed the lodge door; then, seating
himself facing the oak, as though itlhad been
one of his tribe, he said, in an humble tone, ad-
dressing the tree:

“ The heart of Sidominadotah is sad.‘ .He
seeks communion and counsel of the Manitou in

I the Spirit Oak.”

Then to the ears of the chief came the rep]?
‘.‘ Let the ears of the chief be open. he

, Manitonis here.” This voice seemed to issue
from the great oak-low, hollow and repulchral.

 

 

It spoke in the Sioux dialect, and the aged chief
believed it to be the voice of the Great Spirit,
speaking through the medium of the oak.

A few weeks previous, when the old chief sat
alone in the Council Lodge, mourning overa
son who had fallen a victim to the Spirit of the
Lake, this voice had first addressed him. He
could find nothing sus icious about the tree,
and since then he ha sought counsel there,
whenever it pleased the spirit to meet him, en-
tirely ignoring the medicine-man, much to that
worthy’s mortification.

In reply to the voice of the Great Spirit, or
Manitou, the old chief said:

“It is well. The ears of Sidominadotah are
open. He will hearken to the words, counsel
and wisdom of the Great Spirit."

“ Let the great chief tell his trouble, and for
what he seeks information,” said the spirit-
voice.

“ Does the Manitou not already know l” asked
the chief.

“Yes,” replied the voice; “the chief is sad,
for every day one or more of his braves lel
under the hatchet of Red Star, the Spirit of the
Lake, and to-night he lurks near."

“ The Spirit speaks the truth,” said the chief;
“ and will he tell Sidominadotah whether the
Red Star is a man or a spirit?”

“He is an evil spirit,” returned the voice;
“no living man could walk upon the face of the
waters.”

“And why does 't slay the red-men of my
tribe?" asked the ch ef.

“Because it is the spirit of a pale-face. The
red warriors burnt the body of the pale—face, -
and when the spirit went from the burning
bod , it was not allowed to enter the happy
Inn of spirits because it was a bud spirit; then
it returned to seek revenge on the red—men that
burnt its body, and sought a..home in the deep
waters of the lake.”

“And will he continue to dog the footsteps of
the red-men until he has struck the last one
down i” asked the chief, with a moody brow.

“He will,” returned the mysterious voice;
“ the braVes of Sidemiuadotah will continue to
fall around him like autumn leaves, unless they
destroy the Red Star.”

“ Do the red-men possess the power to destroy
the Red Star?”

“ They do,” returned the voice.

A hopeful gleam shone in the eyes of the
chief.

“ How?” he asked. _

“ By seeking for him in the lake and upon the
island in the lake; in the forest and among the
shadows in the forest. But many braves will
fall before the Red Star is captured, but, better
man than all.”

“ he Great Spirit speaks words of wisdom,”
said the chief. his wrinkled face lighting up
with joy and triumph; “but, will In father
who dwells in the clouds tell Sidommadotah
how to capture Red Star, the Spirit of the
Lake?”

“Yes; before another moon looks over the
woodland heights, and when another sun has
ceased to shine. let the great chief and the young
War Eagle with five braves go to the island in
the lake to watch andth the Red Star when

     
   

   

\‘

e a F Bald Read. the

he comes in from his midnight tramp in the
forest. Should they fail the first time, they
must try again and again until Red Star is cap-
tured. 'Many braves will fall, but their lives
will save the great Sioux nation. And should
the braves of the great chief captureawhite
hunter, let them bind him alive on the island;
then go back and hide in the woods and when
the Red Star comes to the island and finds the
pale-face, he will take him in his mystic canoe
and hear him back to the shore; then let the
Braves spring upon the Red Star and capture
im if

“ Will not the flinted arrow nor leaden bullet
slay the Red Star?” the chief asked.

‘ No; it will only frighten him.” returned the
voice, which still seemed to issue from the tree.
“ His spirit must be burned like his body, else
you cannot destroy it. Red Star is only the
figure of a man made of shadows by the spirit
that belonged to the body burned by the red«
men. When the Spirit of the Lake is destroyed
the form will melt into shadows from whence it
came.” ,

“ The heart 'of Sidominadotah is glad with the
words of the Great Menitou through the medium
of the Spirit Oak spoken. he will call a council
of his chiefs and lay the words before them. and
when another sun is set, and the moons looks
over the woodland tops, then will he send War
Eagle, to seek the Red Star on the island in the
Lake.

“Then the Great Spirit will go back to its
home in the clouds,” said he mysterious vcice.
“When one moon has passed, and when the
second one kisses the top of the Spirit Oak with
its light, then seek the voice of the Manitou here

again.”

And thus ended the interview of the chief and
the voice, but, to make sure that the voice was
gone, the chief addressed it again. There was
no response. It had gone with the silence of a.
shadow. _

The chief arose now, and wrapping his scarlet
blanket about his shoulders went out into the
village. I

In a few moments he had dispatched runners
to the lodges of the various chiefs to summon
them to meet him immediately in council; then
he returned to the Council-Lodge again.

Soon the chiefs of the tribe began to gather in
and take their respective place before the coun-
cil-fire. ’A look of the deepest anxiety rested up-
on each paint-bedaubed face.

When all were assembled, the aged sechem
arose and made kn0wn his communion 'with the
Great eSfirit, and when and how ‘ their deadly
foe, R Star, could be captured.

A smile of joy and pride swept over the face
of War Eagle when he learned that the Great
Spirit had selected him to lead the expedition
to the island in the lake.

The plan, since the Great Spirit had‘ proposed
it, met the approval of the counselors without a.
dissenting voice. '

' ._ After some preliminary arrangements for the

to-morrow night’s expedition, the 01d chief dis-
missed the meeting. .

As the young chiefs were filing out of the Coun-
cil-Lodge, a low wail echoed through the forest,
coming from the east Side of the village. The

 

Double Dodger.

young warriors hurried away in that direction-
Soon they came to where a. group of excited
braves were standing on the bank of the creek.
In their midst lay a dead warrior. His head
was cloven, and from a frightful wound upon
his forehead, in the shape of a. star, the worm
blood was still flowing. K

Red Star, the Spirit of the Lake, had been
there! Their vigilant precautions had availed
nothing. The dead warrior was himself one of
the sentinels.

Search was made for the cunning enemy, but
no trace of him could be found.

The guards were doubled, and sad] each war-
rior sought his lodge tomourn the oss of the
fallen brave.

 

CHAPTER III.
BALD HEAD.

TOWN VANSLOW started with no little sur-
prise, whcn he felt the heavy hand upon his
shoulder, but, much to his relief, he found on
turning, that he stood face to face with a well—
known character, a. fellow hunter answering to
the odd name of Bald Head.

He was a man about thirty years of age, with
black eyes, with a. flash in them indicative of
the boldness of the hawk and the firmness of the
eagle. He wash perfect specimen of active and
vigorous ph sisal manhood, with features of a
decided into lectunl cast of expression. He was
dressed in n closefitting suit» of buckskin, and
carried a rifle and hunting-knife.

A great red scar extending the full length of
his forehead, and another upon his cheek—
though partially hidden by his whiskers—dis-
figured‘what once had been a handsome face.

Though Town Vunslow had been much in his
com any in the last two years, he had known
him yno other name than Bald Head, which
name the hunter had applied to himself from the
.fact of his having survived the tortures of the
Indian scal ing-knife.

“ Hullo, anslowl” exclaimed Bald Head,
“whither away, my boy?”

“By the conflamigated sweat that’s oozin’
from every pore in my body like ice, Bald
Headl” exclaimed Town, “ I’d art to give ye a
swollipin’ for scarin’ a. feller so. I sw’ar you
m‘ust’hev yer feet muflied thet you kin walk so
sot.

“Ho! ho!” laughed Bald Head: “you must
be gittin’ flighty. Vanslow, or hard of hearing."

“ We]. I reckon as wet these are flighty
times.” returned Town.

“ Why? what’s up?” asked Bald Head.

“D’ye see that?” asked Vanslow, pointing to
the dead savage, lying near the fire.

“ Yes; I saw that before I did you.”

head?”

“ Yes; it’s the totem of the Spirit of the Lake,
and it’s not the first time I’ve ooked upon the
Red Star~ emblazoned on ,a. red pigger’s head,
and I hope the spirit. or whatever it is, Will keep
on until the last of the Philistines are smitten
hi and thigh; and, not until then, will I con-
si er the loss of my scalp avenged.” said the

 

 

“Wal, do you see that wound on the fore- »

hunter, removing his cap, and running hishando ‘ ;

 

 
  
    
        
 

 

  
      
 

 

     
     
       
   
    
       
      
      
   
   
       
     
   
        
      
       
 
        
 
     
    
     
     
      
        
     
     
       
     
     
     
       
     
     
     
     
       
       
      
       

 
 

     
    
      
       
    

 

 
     
      
        
      
 

    

Bald Bend; the

Double Dodger.

 

over the crown of his head that was minus about
three square inches of scalfi.

“ Hal hal bal Bald cad,” laughed Van-
slow, “ when ye take yer cap off, ye look like
old parson Briggs down at the settlement; only
the person’s crown is a leetle shinyer then
yourn.”

“ Not changing the subject, Town,” said Bald
Head, “ how come this (land Indian there?”

“ You tell,” returned Vanslow. “ An hour
ago I left my two companions, Roy St. Claire
and Lo Symbro, by that ’are cam fire, and
went out to look around, and when returned
they war gone, and that cussed red-skin war
layln’ thar. Now, the Spirit 0’ the Lake’s been
here, that’s sure, and either it or the reds hev
toted the boys 01!.”

“ I’ll guarantee they were captured by‘ the
Indians, for the Spirit of the Lake never harms
the Whites, as I’ve seen,” said Bald Head.

“ Wal, that’s so, Bald Head; but I‘d jist as
-lief be killed and stamped With the red star by
the Spirit, as ter be scart to death by the ’tarnal
critter.” .

H“ gen have seen the spirit lately?” asked Bald

ea .

“ Hain‘t I, though i” exclaimed Vanslow.
“ Jist tor-night I see’d the durned thing with its
red Wings 0’ fire and bi feet 0 rippin’ across
the lake like Satan. nd whi e I war scoutin’
in the woods I found a dead Ingin with his head
crushed, and stamped with the lied Star for the
ha.pr huntin’-grounds.” v

“ eallyl” exclaimed Bald Head, with sur-
prise, “ that SFth of the Lake is past my com-
prehension. or awhile I thought it a man try~
mg to 7play the ghost, but I find l’m sadly mis-
ta en

“ Hain’t you, though? I know it are the
spirit 0’ satan, and a feller ’d better be a leetle
keerful ’round this ’ere frog-pond. Jist 'like as
not it’s got the boys; howsumdever, I must look
arter ’em.”

“And I will lend you a helping hand,” said
Bald Head. -

, “ That’s it, Bald Head; your he’p’s worth hav-
in’; so let’s tramp.”

So saying, the two hunters moved down to
the lake-shore, stopped and gazed out upon the
water. Somewhere upon its surface they could
hear the dip, dip of oars, but it was so very faint
that they could not make out the direction from
whence It came.

“That is an Indian canoe,” said Bald Head,
“ and i.'s hugging the shore for some secret pur-

oae, but whether it’s to the right or left of us,
can‘t silly.”

“Nur :but to find out, one 0’ us kin 0 one
way and the t’other 3:3 t’other way. 9 kin
meet at the’ mouth 0’ eath Channel, on t’other
side 0’ the lake. If it’s reds in the canoe, like
. as ennyway they’ve got the boys,” returned

Vanslow. ,

“ That’s true, Town; so I will go around the
lake to the right, and you can go the other way,
and we can meet at the mouth of the channel—
the one" getting there first waiting till the
other comes.”

, And so the parted,
fions, around he lake, w on was ti y six miles
in circumference. ' -

gfiling in op oslte direc~

 

Vanslow hurried quite rapid] along the
shore, keeping well within the s adow of the
forest.

He had gone something like a mile, when
the fleecy clouds parted and the great round
moon looked out, flooding the forest and lake
with light.

The old hunter crept to the water’s edge, and
gazed out upon the lake that lay glimmering
in the moonshine like a. great bed of molten si -
ver. ,

The lain swashing of cars now caught his
ears. unning his eyes along the shore to the
right, he saw a canoe glide out from the shadow
of a little cove, and move away toward the little
island in the center of the lake.

The hunter saw that there were five persons in
the canoe, and when he had got a fair view of
them, he discovered, with no little surprise, that
two of them were his companions, Royston St.
Claire and Loamiah Symbro, and the other three
savages.

What was he to do? For awhile he stood and \
gazed at the water in deep thought; then he
glanced over at the canoes.

He saw that they had come together some dis-
tance from the island and were standin still
alongside each other, their occupants evi ently
holding a consultation.

Presently both canoes moved on toward the
island.

At this juncture, Vanslow started with a thrill
of sudden surprise“ He had made another dis-
covery.

The hunter was standing at a point almost
southwest of the island, while the two canoes
were approaching directly from the west. The
island was simply an immense rook, about seven
rods square, and covered with a thin layer of.
soil, which gave nourishment to a dense growth
of willows and cottonwoods. It was of a. conical
shape, the center, or apex, rising several~ r-
haps twenty—feet above the level of the la e's
surface, while the edges~scarped and fluted by
the chafing of the waves—dipped down to with-
in a foot or two of the water s margin. ’

This island, with its dark. green shrubbery,
concealed from the savages’ View, as they ap-
prohched it. that which had so suddenly startled

own Vanslow. It was the form of a man with
enormous feet that the hunter saw, come out
from the shadow of the lake’s eastern shore,
walking with long, shuflling strides upon the
surface of the wafer!

The old hunter watched the £1 ing fi re until
it had disappeared behind the is and, t en he ex-
claimed: -

“ Red Star, the B irit o’ the Lake; and now
if there ain’t a luv y time outer the! island, I’ll
give under. I’ll bet a. coonskin, that the hull’
caboodle are stamped fur the happy huntin’-
grounds afore they kin leave. Scissors! what if
the ‘ta rnal critter gOes fur the boys! And thar’s
Bald Head. He’d nearly time to git ’round thar
when the critter left the shore, and If it didn't
give him a dig on the baldpate, why, I reckon
as what he’s hed afair squint at he conflnml-
gated, e-spittin’, star-cuttin’, water-walkln’ '
shader. her, the reds hev landed, and now
look out if you want to see the ha‘r fly, Tom
Vanslowl’ , . a

 

c , ’12..

8 , Bald Read, the Double Dodger.

 

So saying, the hunter seated himself to await
the culmination of looked-for events. However.
an hour passed without any demonstrations on
the part of the Indians or the Spirit of the
Lake; and then as the hunter happened to
think that Bald i‘Iead might be waiting for him
he arose and resumed his 'ourney heping,
with the assistance of Bald end, to contrive
some plan by which to rescue his friends, St.
Claire and Symbro.

CHAPTER IV.
mrsaious MYSTERIES.

THE sun rose warm and clear upon the tented
village of Sidomindotah, the morning following
13s interview with the Great Spirit in the Spirit

air.

There was sorrow in the village for the senti-
nel that had fallen ’under the tomahawk of the
Spirit of the Lake the night before.

The fallen brave with all his appurtenances of
war was consigned to his “last repose,” after
the usual ceremony was performed over the body.

War Eagle now spent most the day _in select-
ing five of the best warriors in the whole tribe,
and reparing for the night’s advanture.

A arge canoe was launched in the head-waters
of the Death Channel, and then the six daring
warriors took their seats therein, amply supplied
with ro es and cords with which to bind the
Spirit 0 the Lake.

In the mean time a party of savages under
another chief, called Star-in-the-Night, had_been
sent out into the forest in ho es of taking a
white captive, so that, in case ar Eagle failed
in capturing the Spirit, by the first plan pro-
posed by the Great Spirit, they could imme-
diately resort to the second.

Half anhour’s rowing and they emerged from
the shadows of the stream into the lake.

The full light of the moon enabled them to see
over the silvery surface of the lake far and near.
Along the western shore, standing well in under
the shadows, they saw a. canoe mOVing toward
them. As it came nearer the savages discovered
it to bee. party of their friends with two white
captives, our two young friends, Royston St.
Claire and Loamiah Symbro. ' .

Wild with excitement, War Eagle communi-
cated, by sign, for Sta'r-in-the-Night to convey
the captives to the island, which order that
worth hastened to obey, thus hoping to share
with er Eagle the honor of capturing the
dread Spirit of the Lake.

The two canoes, moving at right angles, came
together a few rods west of the island, which, I
may as well add, was called Turtle Island—
prohably on account of its oval shape.

A momentary belt was made that War Eagle
and his p ty might obtain what information
they could in Star-in-the-Night of the Spirit
of the Lake. True, the chief had not only seen
the Spirit. but two of his warriors had fallen
yer his deadly blows; but he felt that their

th had, in .a stat measure, been rovenged
by‘the capture of 9 two ale-faces

t‘fl'hen Red Star, the amt of the Lake, is
prowling in the forest now?” said War Eagle.

""Heis." returned Star-in-the-Night, “and it
is dpath for a warrior to wander there alone.”

a‘ ‘ Goodl” exclaimed the young chief; “ then
,.

3" V \ n

 

War Eagle will conceal himself and his braves
upon the island, and bind the white captives
there, and when the Spirit of the Lake comes to
release his friends, will capture him.”

The island was reached. Having landed and
made fast their canoes, the savages carried their
captIVes hound hand and foot, and placed them
near the center of the island upon the ground.

Every inch of the little isle was now searched
for the Spirit of the Lake, and more than once
War Eagle thrust his knife into the shadow of a.
bush, thinking it might be the Spirit lurking
there, since the Great Spirit had said that the
Spirit of the Lake was made of shadow. No-
thing, nor any trace of the terrible Spirit being
found, the savages concealed themselves in the
bushes and behind rocks, lying as close to the
ground as so many ser nts.

As the captives b not been let into their
secret, the young men thought quite strange of
their silent proceedings.

Roy knew that they had not left the island,
though every thing was as still as the grave;
and he could account for their actions in no
other light than that they wished them—the
captives—to believe that they were gone and
attempt to free themselves, when they—the sav-
ages—would pounce upon them and make it an
ample excuse to tomahawk them; though, as a
general thing, a savage never waits for an ex-
cme to brain a captive in his power.

Loamiah Symbro had been so terrified at his
capture that he had no thoughts of anything but
an awful death, and in humble submission, he
closed his eyes to await his doomgand in this
precarious situation, and owing, to the Silence
that prevailed, he fell into a profound, but, no
doubt, troubled sleep, much to the surprise of
St. Claire.

Roy concluded that he was neither so brave
nor so cowardly that he could sleep in the face
of death, and had some very uneasy feelings as
to the silent actions of the Sioux.

Neither of the captives had hem hound toe.
bush or rock, but simply were stretched upon
the ground, with their feet and legs firmly
bound, with a long stick bound at their backs,
one end tied at their necks, the other at their
heels, this preventing them from rising to their
feet and compellin them to keep their forms
straightened out. ehind this brace at their
backs, their hands were tied so tight that their
fingers Were numb with pain.

St. Claire could only turn his head from side
to side, and while he was thus tryin to geta
view of his situation, he saw he was lying at the
head of an opening in the shrubhery, that sic
in a green, level lawn down to the water’s e.

Loamiah Symbro just then awoke from is
troubled sleep, with a. Violent start, and, flounder-
ing himself about, he came against Roy so
violently that the latter was pushed over, and,
having no contol of himself, he rolled like a log
down the slope and dropped into the lakelwith a
loud splash:

Of course, the serpent e es of th Sioux saw
the young man rolling own the slope. and
thinking it an endeavor t escape, eve war-
rior sprung from his cover and rushed n ur-
suit. But, before they could reach him, he

'rolled into the lake.

 

 

 

 

 

 

a

 

 

 

 

. demoniacal that Loamiah Symbro ‘33:: his blood

- a nst the rocky shore again.

Bald Head, the Double Dodger.

 

The wildest excitement prevailed among the
red-men. expecting him to rise to the surface,
they threw themselves upon the bank, and made
ready to seize the drowning man the moment he

a gear .

p t this juncture Loamiah Symbro detected a
slight sound near him, resembling the dripping
of water upon the ground;but the shadow of
the dense shrubbery hid everything in total dark-
ness: but he instantly became conscious that
something was fingering his bonds. His first
impulse was to cry out. but his tongue was
speechless with terror. He felt the bonds that
confined his limbs snapped in twain by a keen-
edged instrument, and then heard a strange voice
whis ring from the shadow:

“ p, man. you are free! Escape in one of the
Indian canoes.” '

 

CHAPTER V. _
AN EAGLE NO MORE.

FOR several moments the nine red-skins lay
upon the edge of the bank ready to seize the
form of Roy the moment he arose to the surface
of the lake. But alas! the circlin waves grew
smaller and smaller, a number of ubbles came
up and burst upon the surface, and then all was
still again. They gazed silently into each other’s
face, and then out upon the moonlit lake. as if
expecting to see the Spirit of the Lake flying
shoreward with the missing captive in his mys-
tic canoe.

At last they were startled by the loud and
vigorous plying of a paddle upon the opposite
side of the island. and hastened across to the
other side of the place, to discover their other
captive free and flying in one of their canoes
toward the west shore.

How Loamiah found courage to attem t flight
he could not tell, but he was fully one undred
yards away before the savages discovered his
escape, and the des rate and vigorous manner
-in which he labors at the paddle defied his be-
in g‘ overhauled.

he red-skins could no longer keep silent. A
yell that seemed to have gathered flerceness and
tone from long confinement, now led out so

run cold.
War Eagle and two of his warriors sprung
into their canoe with the intention of giving

pufimtm hi lf th ~h possessed
a terin mse at e superior
skill, War agle seized a paddle, leaned for-

ward, threw back the ears and dropped them in
the water, then put his whole strength into one
Vigorous stroke, but to his surprise the canoe
never moved an inch!

Star-in-the-Night, who was a little jealous of
War Eagle’s rising fame, uttered a shearing
laugh at the excited young man’s failure to
move the canoe. The other warriors now plied
their paddles, but, curious to say, with no better
success. The canoe remained as stationary as
if it had been part of the island. Those on the
island attempted to push it ofl’, and succeeded in
moving it as far out as they could reach, but
the instant they let go, the canoe swung back

to see that the captive had not tied it fast to re
tard their pursuit of him, but he could see noth-

1n . 4

§n the mean time the fugitive was widening
the distance between him and the island.

War Eagle became frantic with rage.

Star-in-the—Night felt sorely grieved at the
loss of his two captives, yet he laughed to hi - »
self and secretly rejoiced in the defeat of '
young rival, War Eagle.

One of the savages finally came to the conclu-
siori that tho‘boat’s keel must be fast upon 8.
rec .

War Eagle thought ,it quite possible, and, as
the canoe was quite large, one of them would
have to get out into the water to examine it.

Which one would it be?

A deep silence ensued; no one spoke nor
moved. .
With a low, indignant grunt. War Eagle
sprung out into the water, and, holding onto the
rim of canoe, he began feeling around under the

craft with his feet.

Suddenly a yell of horror escaped his lips,
and, at the same instant, his friends saw h m
sink down from view in ‘the water as though he
had been sucked down by an undercurrent.

A few circling waves, a few bubbles, and all
was silent as the grave.

Horror overspread the faces of the savages.
Terror held them speechless and motionless, and,
with superstitious fear, they stood with their
eyes fixed upon the spot where they saw the ill-
fated young chief 0 down.

A minute passs by. The savages started.
The water by the canoe became agitated. A
dark object arose to the surface. It was the
form of the youn chief, War Eagle. He was
motionless, and ha it been daylight the Iav as
would have seen that each wave that cite ed
out from his body was stained with blood.

With a low cry, two of the warriors reached
down and drew the young chief upon shore, and
laid him down upon his back. All gathered
around the prostrate form.

A low, sad wail of lamentation burst from
their lipfls

The moonbeams shining down upon the life-
less form of the young chief showed that his
head was eleven as if by atomahawk. while u
on his forehead, and extending down into
face, was stamfied the totem of Red Star, the
Spirit of the La . . 1 .

\

 

CHAPTER VI. ‘
anmwmrnnn KL ,

For. more than an hour Town 'anslow waited
at the mouth of Death Channel for the coming
of Bald Head. .

He was beginning to grow 1 heat. He
arose from his seat and began pa ng to and fro
beneath the dense foliage of a branching out
where the shadows were so thick that he could
scarcely see his hand before him. 

He was where he could out upon the aka,
and man; and anxious w ’ the glances that he
gave toward Turtle Island.

Each moment he expected to hear the death-
wail of his friends come from across the water,

 

o the Indians it was a perplexing m 
War Eagle looked carefully around the e ges .

while he stood there unable to assist them in the
least. It only Bald Road would come, the t

" u u.

 

 

10

might contrive some means by which to rescue
them. ‘

Suddenly he saw a canoe dart out from the
island with but a. single occupant and move to-
ward the west shore. He was too far away to
tell whether. the occupant was a savage or a
friend, but a moment later, when a Wild yell
came rolling across the water from the island,

- he’ knew one of the captiVes had escaped from
the red-skins. -

Without a moment’s hesitation the old hunter
ran with all his speed back along the lake-shore,
hoping to intercept the fugitive by the time he
had landed. In this he was successful.

To his surprise he found Loamiah Symbro.
The moment he touched shore the hunter hailed

him.

“ L‘ord Jehookey, Town! Is’t you?” gasped
Symbro.

“ You bet!" was the hunter’s laconic response;
“ but whar’s Roy i”

“Dead,,Town; he rolled into the lake and was
drowned. '

“ Deadl” exclaimed Vanslow. “ I s‘war thar’ll
,be a orful time down at Pleasant Eeraroe. It
will kill his poor ole mother, and, jist think, to-
morrer ni ht be war to marry the widrler Clon-
ham. It’l kill her dead—bu’st her poor little
heart all to flinders.”

“Yes, but sich comes of this darned western
country,” said Symbro. ” and, 'ist as soon as I

it back to Pleasant Prairie, ’ll cut dirt for
om, Kentucky.”

“ How the deuce did ye git inter the Ingins’
hands?” asked Vanslow.

“ Why, you hadn’t left fifteen minutes when
the red varmints crept up behind us and give us
arip on the head with sumthin’, and the next I
knowed II was in a canoe on the lake and St.
Claire and three Ingins with me. After we’d
gone a ways we met another canoe with six

ngins in it, and after a short confab that sound-
ed to me like Dutch, but reckon it was Sioux
lingo, they took us over to the island, and you
bet it made me feel ticklish—not that I keered
gk tire reds, but that blamed Spirit of the ,

e.

“Thet war a. kind 0" ticklish place; but,
how’d ye escape?’

“ Well, sir. we were taken and tied hand and
foot and hill in about the center of the island.
Then the red-skins all hid in the bushes; but
why they d ne it, I can’t telL After a.

. while I conclu ed it wer’n’t worth my while to
exhaust all my physical strength by staying
awake, so I fell as eep—”

“ And slept in the jaws 0’ death?” asked Van-

slow.
- “Didn’tI though? Itell you what, it takes
Loamiah Henry Symbro to sleep by danger. I
expect I’m too fearlessthat way for my own
good; but, what’s born ina man can’t be helped.
rand-dad Symhro..war a reg’lar old Ingin-
slayer. they say in history, and everybody that
,knowed him, says I’m a chip out of the same
block. But. when I awoke from my nap over
St. Claire went to turn over and say
somethin to me. but at that moment he started
and to down the bank and fell into the lake.
The {112% all rushed down to drag him out,
buts! couldn’t see him they didn’t drag.

Bald Read, the Double Dodger.

 

But, while they were looking for him, I heard -
the dropping of water among the bushes, and
the next moment my bonds were all cut, and a
v01ce whispered for me to git—that I was free!
I tried to see who it was that done the nice thing
by me, but I’ll be gol-durned if there was a crit-

ter to be seen. Gusss it war the Spirit of the
Lake. However, I concluded to roll out, and
getting up, I slipped down into the lightest
canoe, and poled out for tall timber. 1 got a
hundred yards from the island before the harpies
discoveried my escape, and I guess they’re
afraid to foller me, else they’d be lightin’ out be-
fore this.”

Town Vanslow was considerably perplexed by}

his friend’s story. He was at a loss to know
whether to give it credit or not, knowing that
both the courage and veracity of the man were
rather doubtful.

“ And ye’i" shure Roy war drowned, are you?‘
he asked.

“Just as sure as that I’ve escaped,” returned
Loaminh. 

“ ’Tarnal fate!” exclaimed Vanslow. “ Who’ll
break the news to his mother, and the young
widder Clenham who he war goin' to marry?
Poor Roy l”

“Well, I’m goin’ straight to the settlement.
and I reckon I’ll havo to tell them,” said
Symhro.

“ But, ain’t you oin’ to help me look after the
body i” asked the o d hunter.

“No; I will not stay another minute around
this ’tnrnal lake; so, good—by, Town, for I‘m off
for Pleasant Prairie and Sodom, Kentucky,”
said Symbro; and before the old hunter could
reply he turned and darted away at the top of
his speed.

Vanslow tried to call the fleeing coward back,
but he paid no attention to the call; and, not a
little surprised and vexod did the hunter find
himself alone by the lake again. '

For awhile Town was at a loss to know what
course to pursue; but, finally concluded to re:
turn to the mouth of Death Channel. Perhaps,
if Bald Head had not fallen a victim to the red-
skins, he would be at the point of rendezvous
by that time; so he turned, and once more
starred toward the mouth of the creek.

Arriving there, Bald Head Was still absent,
so be seated himself in the shadow of the
branching oak, to wait.

The moments glided into minutes and the min- '

utes were lengthened into hours. Bald Head
was still absent.

The moon had gone down, and the forest and
lake were wrapped in total-obscurity. .

The hunter became drowsy, an'l concluded
there to spend the remainder of the night; so he
leaned his rifle in the hollow of his [arm and
set‘gled himself back against the trunk of the
ca .
He had no more than done so. when he caught
the tramp of approaching footsteps.

He arose to his feet.

“ Ho, Bald’ Head,” he said, advancing toward
the form. “ so you‘ve come at last, eh?”

“ Yes,” responded the approaching man, but,
at the instant, he raised something and struck

 
   

’

the old hunter a blow upon the head that felled ,

him to the earth.

  

 

 

 

T‘.:

‘t

.4;u.«¢._L.v

.K

    

 

 

 

 



13.1.1 Read, the Double Dodger. 11

“Great Godi Bald Head 1” exclaimed the old
hunter, imploringiy, “ what treachery is this?"

The only response was another blow upon the
head, that left him senseless at the feet of his
adversary.

 

CHAPTER VII.
A STAR Los'r.

Tu wildest excitement prevailed over the
death of the young chief, War Eagle.

Every savage was seized with superstitious
fear, expecting each moment to see the Spirit
of the Lake rise up from the rocks around
them. =

Star-in-the—Night now assumed the leadership,
and he at once gave orders to embark for the
village. , .

The braves were only too Willing to leave the
island which they believed enchanted, and fairly
fought to be the first into the canoe.

But a. startling discovery was soon made.
The canoe would bold but seven men, and there
were nine in all, includin the body of the chief,
Which of course must not left behind.

One at least of the eight living warriors
would have to remain until the canoe could be
brought back. '

Evary one was detormlned to go. Adeath-
strfiggle was imminent. After some parleyinz,
Star-in-the—Night propoeed that they all cast
lots by throwing a touiahawk at a mark. Being
a chief, he knew well enough that he could not
be compelled to stay, but having perfect faith
in his superior skill in throwing the tomahawk,
he included himself with the warriors that were
to cast lots—of course, the one missing the mark
the furthest, having to remain on the island
until the canoe was brought back.

This manner of settling the dispute amicably
met the full approbation of all the warriors.
Soatarget was fixed and the throwing com-
mjeneed.

A yell announced the last throw. The over
self-confident Star-in-the-Night came the fur-
thest from the mark! He was to remain.

Ina few moments the seven warriors were
seated in the canoe, which, a short time pre-
vious had refused to move, apd which had cost
War Eagle his life.

The savages took up the paddles, and sent it
flying out from the shore. A about _of.’ trium h
-burst from their lips, while Star-m-the-Nig t
uttered a low, dissatisfied grunt, and seated him-
self near the body of his comrade.

The canoe had not gone more than a rod,
when it refused to go any further from the
island, and then suddenly it shot back toward
the island with the velocity of an arrow, strik-
ing the rocky shore with such force that nearly
all the occupants were thrown out into the
water.

Another trial and the savages got clear of the
island; and in fifteen minutes they had reached
the mainland. I

Some time now was spent in parleying as to
which ones should go hack after the chief, but
finally, three of them entered the canoe an
started to return. i .

As the trio approached the_1sland they saw

 

nothing of the chief, but supposing he had gone
back into the shadow of the shrubbery they
pushed on.

Soon the, island was reached. One of the In- ‘

dians called to Star-in-the—Night, but there was
no response. He stepped from the canoe upon
the shore, and at that instant a cry of terror
escaped his lips. By the side of War Eagle lay
Star-in-the-Night—deudi His head he been

cloven as if bya tomaliawk, while upon his‘

forehead and face was the flaming Red Star,
the totem of the Spirit of the Lake.

With a wail of lamentution the warriors
placed the bodies of their unfortunate young
chiefs in the canoe, and started on their return
to the shore.

They were about half-way between the island
and mainland, when their attention was at-
tracted by a Sight that caused their savage
blood to run cold.

Out from Turtle Island they saw the figure of

a man, with enormous feet, walking upon the
surface of the water. Two wings of fire reached
out from either shoulder, throwing a red beam
of light across the lake, and. plainly revealing
the form of the flying figure, whose head was
muffled in a fur hood, and who carried in his
hand a tomahawk.

The terror-stricken red-skins could not move
their eyes from the flying figure—the dreaded
Spirit of the Lake—until it had reached the
shore northeast of the island, extin uished its
flaming win s, and disappeared in t e shadow
of the WO 5. Then they moved on, and soon
joined their friends on shore.

A fearful yell told how the four savages re-
ceived the news of Star-in-the-Night’s death.

Litters were constructed and the dead chiefs
placed upon them; then the party of “spirit-
catchers,” solemn and morose, set off for the
village.

It was daylight before they came in sight of 4

the encampmen t, and, just on the outskirts, they
were met b a large concourse of warriors,
headed by Sidominadotah, eager to look lipon
the supposed-captured Spirit of the Lake. at,
terrible was their rage and disappointment when
they gazed down upon the ghastly faces of the
gwo Iyoung chiefs, stamped with the gory Red
tar '

A low wail of sorrow passed from lip to lip,
from lodge to lodge.

War Eagle, the brave young1 chief, who had
need so proudly through 1: evi age but twenty-
our hours before, nowlay dead, slain b the

hand of the enemy whose capture he fat so
positive of effecting. ,

Sidominadotah was sorer grieved, but then
he remembered that the Great Spirit, speaking
through the Spirit Oak, had told him that many
warriors would fall before the mrnble fee would
be captured. .

Mournt’ully the old chief sought his lodge.
Then he sent for one of the warriors who had
accom anied War Eagle to the island. When
be h come, he motioned him to be seated;

then asked him to narrate their adventure ‘

with the Spirit of the Lake, and how the young
chiefs met their fate.

The warrior seated himself and narrated their
adventure. -When he had finished, the brow of

.‘r

 

 

  

12 I Bald Head. the Double Dodger.

 

the old chief darkened and his eyes flushed with
anger. ‘

he warrior started with surprise at the old
chief’s emotion.

“ Is the great chief angry, that his brow dark—
ens at what Lawegah has told him?” he asked.

The’ old chief raised his eyes to those of
Lawegah, and replie l:

“Sidominndotah, the waters of the river, the
whispering winds, and the forest-oak, all
hearken to the words of the Great Spirit, but
War Eagle has not, and his life has paid for his
disobedience.” .

I‘I do not understand the great chief,” said
Lawegah.

“ The Great Spirit, speaking through the
Spirit Oak bade me send War Eagle to the
island in th
. ambush for the Spirit of the Lake. Did
Eagle not take Star-in-theNight and his two
warriors and the white captives with him?"

“ He did,” responded Luwegah.

“ And did not the Great Spirit allow the Spirit
of the Laketostrike the War Eagle dead for
disobedience? for taking Star-in-the-Night and
his warriors along?" -

“ He did.”

The old chief‘s eyes snapped angrily, and his
wrinkled face became convulsed with excite-
ment. To him it seemed plain enough why War
Eagle’s expedition had proven a failure. War
Eagle had neglected to carry out the sacred in-
structious.

I Dismissing Lawegah, be shut himself up in his
lodge to mourn over the fate and unfaithfulness
of the young chief.

Not until ni ht was near did he come forth.
It was they nig t that the Great Spirit had
Rammed to meet him again in the Council

go. ,

Heordered a fire to bebuilt in the lodge; then,
having seen that a nerd was placed over a tent
in which lay a whi e captive, bound hand and
foot. be repaired to the Council Lodge.

When the moon looked over the forest-tops,
giekMauiMu would speak to him from the Spirit

a

——

CHAPTER VIII.

THE MYSTERY OF. THE LONE CABIN.

NOT many miles south of Storm Lake was
located the settlement of Pleasant Prairie. The
sprin of 1835, three years previous to the open-
ing 0 our story, had witnessed the erection of
the first dwelling there. Six families—two

.

from Kentucky, Abijah Briggs and John Sym- ‘

bro; two from Ohio, Royston St. Claire and his
widowed mother, and another family named
Whitney; and two other families from Indiana,
composed this settlement.

The settlement had been located at the edge
of a great forest. To the west the beautiful
prairies rolled away in great grandeur, for
miles and miles. On this plain, rich and fertile
as the sun ever shone upon, the settlers each had
preempted a quarter-section, and it was not
, ong until much of it was put in a proper shape

fer cultivation.

Prosperity at once attended the pioneers. Nor
were they thoughtless from whence their pros-

e lake with five warriors, to lay in

 

 

perity came. Parson Briggs; in erecting his
cabin, had been tiloughtl’ul‘enou h to make it
so commodious that, upon each ‘abbath, the
settlers might meet for prayer and exhortation.

Among the bri htest attractions of Pleasant
Prairie was Nellie hitney, not a wild, dashing
rosebud. but a modest little violet, whose blue
eyes looked into yours with n tender-and child-
like fascination. She was loved _hy all who
knew her, and since Royston St. Claire and
Loaminh Symbro were toe only young men in
the settlement, it was quite natural that they
should center their affections upon her, quite
as natural that Nellie should reciprocate the
attentions of handsome, intellectual St. Claire
in preference to those of the nwk warvl, illiterate
Symbro. And as time rolled on, Purson Briggs
rubbed his hands in glee in anticipation of the
hour when young St. Claire would call upon
him to perform the first wedding ceremony in
northwestern Iowa.

Nellie and Royston loved each other, though '

neither of them had acknowledged the fact to
the other simply becnuse the time for that mo-
mentous moment had not come.

Time passed on, and about a month after the
settlers ad located at Pleasant Prairie, they
were thrown into great excitement.

Arthur Whitney and Royston St. Claire had,
while in the forest hunting, discovered a soli-
tary cabin standing in a ittle wildwood dell
about six miles from the settlement. In the
background was a small clearing:r in which was
growing some Indian corn and garden vegeta-
bles, though they showed no evidence of having
been cultivated since planted» as the weeds were
growing up raukly.

There was not a doubt in the minds of the set-
tlers but that it was the home of a white man,
so they crossed the clearing and approached
the cabin.

Al: the door they paused and listened, and,
surely enou h, to their ears came the tender
voice of a emale singing in a wild, strange
melody.

Arthur Whitney rapped softly upon the door
with his knuckles.

“ Come in, Arthur, come in,” called the tender
voice within.

Arthur Whitney started with sudden surprise.
Who could it be living there that knew him?
Imlpatient for an answer, he opened the door
an entered.

Again he started. Nota living creature was
to be seen. They glanced around them. The
room was small and contained a bed, a table,
and chairs of rude manufacture, and other
household articles, all arranged with the neat-
ness and taste as only female hands could
arrange them. In one side of the room wasu
fireplace in which a fire was burning, and near
it sat a skillet in which was some sliced venison
ready for the fire. Before the fireplace sata
chair upon which our friends supposed the
woman, or whoever it was that muted them
to enter, had been sitting. But Where was She}

“I don’t understand this, Roy,” said White
DEV. .
“Nor I," replied St. Clair; “but who was it
that invited you in—knew you, for she called
you Arthur? She must have seen you and re-

 

 

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Bald Head. the Double Dodger.

 

13

 

cognized you before we reached the cabin, and
then to play a joke upon you has hidden.”

“ That seems very probable, but who could it
be? I can think of none I knew who ever came
West before me."

There was no loft in the cabin, nor was there
any place where a. person could have hidden;
nevertheless, our friends proceeded to search the
room, but tound no one.

" She must have fled through there,” said
Whitney, pointing to a large opening intended
for a Window, and which was on the side of the
cabin opposite the door.

Roy went out and examined the ground care-
fully. In the clayish soil he discovered delicate
footprints.

“ Yes; here are footprints,” he said; “ whoever
it was, escaped.” '

“ Well, who was it?" asked Whitney, consider-
ably agitated, looking out through the win-

0W.

“That‘s the question,” returned Roy, “ eques-
tion that I am unable to answer. It is a hit of
m stery I am sure.”

‘lt'was a woman’s voice, that’s sure, and I
would not think so much about it if she hadn’t
called me by name.”

“ She called you by your first name, and that
may be her husband s name“ He may have been
away, and on coming home rapped at the door,
and the wife, for amusement, sprung out of the
window to hide from him, never dreaming that
it was a strangteg.”

“ That may , and I hope the woman/will not
be offended if we remain until she finds out her
mistake.” ‘

“ I should think not,” returned Roy, and so
they seated themselves to await the woman’s
return.

An hour passed by and nobody came. The
settlers arose and goin out into the yard, shout-
ed a number of times, at only the sound of their
voices came back to their ears.

Night was fast approaching, and the settlers
having no time to spare, at once set off for
Pleasant Prairie with the intention of returning
on the marrow, but they had gone scarcely a
dozen stops when they again were startled by the
tender voice of the woman singing that some
wild melody in the cabin.

Whitney and St. Claire were not superstitious
men, but a mysterious feelin came over them.
In fact, it was a moment ca culatcd to inspire
them with wonder.

They stopped and listened. The voice of the
singer was sweet and melodious, yet there was a

strange tremolousness about it that sent a chill.

~ to their hearts. Why, they could not tell.

“Shall we go backi’f asked Arthur Whitney.

“ Yes, by all means. I should like to see that
beautiful singer,” returned St. Claire.

They turned about and went back to the
cabin. The singing ceased as they approached.

Arthur Whitney rapped upon the door.

‘_‘ Come in, Arthur, come in,” called the tender
mice of the woman.

They opened the door and entered but not a
living soul was there but themse ves. The
. woman had vanished.

The settlers gazed around the room, and then
inqumngly into each other’s faceS.

 

 

“This beats me," said Whitney; “it can’t be
this is the abode of spirits.”

Ru smiled at the ridiculous idea.

“ 0, that is im ossible,” he said. “ Some-
body has been in ere since we were, for see,
that skillet of venison is on the fire now, and
awhile ago it was sitting on the hearth. Come,
lot us go. I am sure our presence is not wanted
here."

They left the cabin, and filled with no little
curiosity, returned to the settlement.

The matter was made known throughout the
settlement and no little excitement prevailed.

When Roy related their discovery and the
mystery connected with it to Parson Briggs, the
reverend old gentleman laughed until his sides
shook, and he declar d that the very next morn-
ing he would go ove to the cabin and investi-
gate the matter. __

CHAPTER IX.

PABSON BRIGGS GOES TO THE LONE CABIN.

QUITE early the following morning Parson
Briggs mounted his “ easy-going horse,” and,
accompanied by Arthur Whitney, set out for the
lone cabin in the wildwood dell.

The good old parson was a little conceited;
though not to be unbearable, and he remarked
more than once during the journey that he would
fathom the-secret around which his two friends
had woven a web of mystery. .

An hour’s ride brought them in sight of the
cabin. They drew rein and looked down at the
little structure and over the clearing in the back-
ground.

A spiral column of blue smoke was driftin
heavenward from the chimney, which was an -
ficient evidence that the house was inhabited.

They rode on and soon entered the path lead.
ing down the hill to the cabin-door.

A few rods from the building they dismounted
and hitched their horses; then they cautiously
moved on foot toward the house. -

They were but a few steps from the building
when the door was partially opened, then hur-
riedly and violently slammed shut again. The
settlers caught the outlines of a. woman within
the room.

Parson Briggs smiled and said:

“ I suppose you see now, friend, how one’s
fancy Will magnify a very little thing which at
first seems strange. Now, you see, you were not
expecting to run across a cabin yesterday, and
of course you were surprised, as perhaps its in-
mates were surprised by seeing you, and a little

urprise, strangness and curiosity in one’s mind
often conjures up startling mysteries. If every-
body would think before they speak—look into
the matter a little before they decide, as I in-
variably do, all these bug-bear stories of ghosts
and goblins would be of the past. Now, in this
case, it is very plain that some daringx young
settler and his wife reside here. Her usban
was away yesterday, and when you rapped at
the door, not dreaming of strangers, she sup-

osed it was her husband, called for him to come
in, then ran and concealed herself just for sport,
as I bags often seen young people (lo—hut here
we are. ,/

They stopped before the cabin-door, and very
softly the parson rapped upon it.

  

14 N Bald Head, the

Double Dodger.

 

“ Come in, Arthur, come in,” that same female-

voice said within.

The person smiled, raised the latch, opened the
door and entered the room. lifting his hat and
making a polite bow as he did so.

“ Good-morn—” he began, but he did not finish
the sentence, for not a living creature was in the
house but himself and friend.

A fire was burning on the hearth, and a chair
was drawn up before it.

Everything was in the neatest of order, but a
damp air pervaded the a artment.

Parson Bri gs rub bis bald crown and
gazed about t eroom with a puzzled look. When
his eyes met those of Arthur Whitney, the color
came to his face despite his efforts to appear in-
diderent.

“ Well, what do you think, parsoni" asked
Whitney.

“ Humph—really the lady acts curiously,” the
parson admitted. “She surely saw us when she
opened the door. Must be a curious critter. I
believe I’ll speak out, and when she finds we are
friends she’ll come in, as I suppose she got out
through that window.”

The parson drew along breath and said, a. lit-
tle louder:

“ The lady of the house need have no fears of
us; we are friends. I am the Reverend Abi'ah
Briggs,“ of Pleasant Prairie, late of Sodom, en-
tncky.” ,

A deep hush followed.

’ There was no response to the Reverend Abi-
jah’s call.

Arthur Whitney smiled, not because there was
no response, but at the person’s perplexity, and
at the excited manner in which he chafed his
bald crown. .

“ You-see we were right, do you not, person?”

“ Tut, tut! curious, curious,” returned the par-
son, “ but then it’s a plain case. The woman has
bid and I’ll take the liberty to search for her.”

And so the parson commenced searching the
room. He looked under and in the bed, behind
and in a large trough in which was some pickled
meat; under the floor up the capacious chim-

/ney, but all in vain. a then went out and beat
around through the weeds and clearing with no
better success. «

, Then he concluded to wait and watch, and not
until the'gathering shadows of evening warned
him that it was time to be going home, did he
give up that it was a mystery.

he parson was quite thoughtful during their
journey Mine, and Whitney was baffled in
every attempt to draw out his opinion as to the
real nature of the mysterious woman of the
lonely cabin. ‘

The next day the parson and John Symhro
went back,_ but they met with no better success
in elucidating the mystery.

_ The days passed into weeks, and the Weeks
into months, and still the matter stood unex-

‘ , plained. November came—the chill winds were

, drift}: the dun leaves into heaps, and rumbling

mou ully through the bare aisles of the forest.

The birds had taken their flight from the chilly
North, and the dismal bowl of the hungry wolf
\ was heard instead of their song.
A It was about the middle of the month. A light
- now

had fallen and clothed the earth in white.

The male settlers of Pleasant Prairie all turned
out on a general hunting excursion. During the
day R xy St. Clair had become Separated from
his companions, and, in following a deer trail, it
led him in the immediate vicinity of the lone
cabin.

Curiosity led the young man to visit the house,
in hopes that the snow would enable him to dis"
cow-r something in regard to the mysterious
resident. As he approached he saw that smoke
was curling lazily up into the frosty air, and so
be determined to crawl up and get a View of the
interior before entering or making any alarm.

The snow, being damp and heavy, served to
mufl‘le his footsteps, and, to his surprise, when he
had got within a few paces of the cabin, he heard
that same tender female voice singing in that
some wild strain as when he had first heard it.

Cautiously he crept to the door, and ate ping,
listened to the voice within the cabin. t was
sweet and melodious, yet there was a wildness in
the tone that sent a chill through the young set-
tler’s frame. He tried to find a hole or crevice
in the Wall, in order to get a. view of the inte-
rior, but in this he failed, and turning, he
opened the door and burst abruptly into the
room.

To his surprise he beheld a woman seated on
a chair before the fire, her hands clasped over
her breast and her eyes lifted upward. She
seemed unconscious of the young man’s uncere-
monious intrusion, and sung on in the same wild
strain.

She was a young woman, and exceedingly
beautiful, despite the emaciated form and face.
Her hair was black as the raven’s wing, and
hung about her shoulders in disordered tresses.
Her thin form was clad in a tattered dress of
light material,and though the snows of winter
were upon the ground, and the bleak, cold winds
rumbling down the chimney, two tiny feet were
warming before the fire—entirely bars.

While Roy stood gazing upon this picture of
despair and wretchedness, he caught a glimpse
of her eyes. The sight sent a shudder through
his body, for in the wild, vacant stare of the
dark orbs, he saw that the woman was crazy]

For a moment he was on the eve of stealing
out and away, but he hesitated, and asked him.
self whether such a course was that of 9. Chris“
tian.

He advanced toward the woman and spoke. \
She uttered a wild scream, and, rising to her
feet, flashed a look upon the young man that
caused him to recoil; then, with a bound as
nick as a deer, she reached the opening, or wine
ow, and attempted to escape, but in her flight
she struck her head against the to f the win-V
dew, and sank back, unconscious, upon the floor.

Roy lifted the woman in his arms and placed
her upon the bed. He then found, upon ex-
amination, that her skull had actually been
fractured by the furious blow, and his slight
knowledge of human injuries told him that there ‘
was little hope for the poor, unfortunate woman.

A sad ending, truly, to what once must have.
been a lovmg, beautiful life.

CHAFFE—R X. '
WHERE WAS ROY. ’

 

Tim shadowa of night .were fast gathering

r. .- w

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

' ‘52:; 1”“3,“ in“? .

 

-
u
0 4

Bald Head, the Double Dodger. 15

A

over Pleasant Prairie, and a drear night it
threatened to be. _ _ _

The air was filled With the driftin snow; the
wind was howling through the crest, and
whistling around the cabins, oh, so wildly! All
around came the sharp bark and childlike cry
of the wolves, that lent an additional pang to
the fears of the settlers.

In her cabin, her heart Wrung‘ with sorrow

' and anxiety, the widow St. Claire was pacing
e

to and fro, r hands clasped over her breast
and her lips moving in prayer.

The day of the hunting excursion had closed,
and all the hunters but Roy had returned. A
driving storm had suddenly sprung up, and the
chances were that the young man would become
lost and his life destroyed by the wolves; and it
was this that terribly agitated the heart of the
poor old mother.

Nor was she alone in her heartfelt sorrow.
The eyes of another was red with weeping; the
li of another moved in prayer. Fervent] did
Ngllie Whitney implore the protection 0 the

cat Protectoru nthe idol of her young heart,
guy St. Claire. ut, alas! could she haVe look-
ed into the future, perhaps she would have pray-
ed as fervently for him to have been buried in
the storm from the view of the world forever.

Outside of the stockade the men with lights
were moving about, shouting at the top of their
lungs, hoping to guide the young man thereby,
in case he was near. '

Suddenly a about of joy peeled out through
the storm. A

The old mother hastened to the window and
looked out. '

Her prayers were answered. Roy had come.
But what was that he bore in his arms?

In a moment theyoung man with his burden,
.had entered the cabin.

w. .A number of the settlers came in after him.

“ Oh! Roy, I have mourned you as dead,”
shrieked the mother, overpowered with joy.
” Where have you been? and what have you got
there!” ,

.“ A poor. unfortunate woman, the mystery of
the lone cabin,” said the young man, placing the
unconscious form upon a bed, and bidding his
mother remove the blankets from around her,
while he warmed his fingers that were numb
With cold. .

While warming, Roy briefly related how he
had found the woman in the cabin, how she had
injured herself in attempting to escape, and,

_ finally, how he had worried through the storm
e

with r while a dozen snarling wolves were
dogging his footsteps.

Parson Bri who was something of a doctor,
aswell as a lviue, was called in, or, rather
called upon, for he was already in, to attend the
woman. _

Every heart was touched with pity. sorrow
and wonder when they gazed upon the thin,

’ I pale, yet beautiful face of the Woman.

The person examined the injury and found
that it was quite serious, but_to his surprise he
saw that the skull had sustained a previous in-
jury, as a deep scar extended beyond the present
abrasion. He placed his finger upon the wound-
ed part and found that a very small portion of

v _i-

 .;

 

the skull was looso. A light flashed in the old
parson’s eyes. He had made a discovery.

“ What is it, person?" asked Roy, seeing his
sudden emotion.

“I have made a discovery, my boy. This
poor woman has had a. blow union the head some
time ago. Her skull was crus ed by the blow,
and a portion ‘of the bone pressing upon the
brain has made her crazy as you found her;
bu“, striking her head on the injured part to-
day, hes removed that bone from the brain and
replaced it in its natural position, and when she
wakes up, if she isn’t as sane as you or 1, why,
I’ll give up that I have not seen a dozen such
cases in my time. It was not the blow that
caused her to fall unconscious toda , but the
sudden reaction of the brain, caused y the re-
moval of the bone from that sensitive part. She
may remain thus for a day or so, but when she
does recover she will have her right mind, and
then—oh, Godl perhaps she will wish that she
had never regained her reason, for I know that
some awful secretlies back of this mystery.”

“1!; is really wonderful how she lived in the
cabin all alone, and how she eluded us hereto-
fore,” said Arthur Whitney.

“ I tell you, my friend,” said- the old person,
“crazy people are wonderfully eccentric.
Sometimes they do things that we would think
im ossible.” ~ ~

he reverend doctor now prescribed for the
beautiful unknown, and with the assistance of
Mrs. Whitney, the Widow St. Claire changed
the tattered and soiled garments of the woman
for one of warmth and comfort.’

After a while the Settlers be an to return to
their respective homes, only ellie Whitney
and the person remaining to watch with the
widow and her noble boy, by the- sick bed.
There was not a doubt but the smiles of Mrs.

v

St. Claire had much to do in keeping the rover- v

end doctor there, for he was a widower, and had
all along been very attentive to her ‘splritual
hag iness.

e patient rested very easy during the en-
tire night and until noon the next day, when
she began to show signs of returning conscious-
ness.

Roy scarcely left the bedside foramoment. ‘

He had takenastrange and yet a tender in-
terest in the welfare of the woman, so young
and beautiful.

At last the looked-for crisis came. About the
middle of the afternoon the stran er 0 eued her
eyes and gazed around her in wi derment.
She was no longer crazy! The light of reason
shone in her dark eyes and her voice was soft
and tremulous as she asked:

“Has Arthur come home yet? Where are
the Indians?” '

A deep sigh esca d Roy’s lips. All wasclear
to him now._ In t e absence of Arthur—who-
ever he was—~she had been stricken down sense-
less by the savages, and no doubt left for dead.
Arthur never had returned, and from the mo-
ment she Was stricken down. all had been a
blank to her up to this hour. The young settler
hesitated to break the sad news to her of how
he found her. She grew impatient, and re-
peated:

“ Has Arthur come yeti”

-‘. .
' E
l

driest? ‘

 

Bald Head. the Double Dodger.

 
 

 

“ Arthur who?" asked Roy. v

“ Arthur Clenham, my husband. He is back
of the clearing chopping in the forest. But,
where have the Indians gone?"

“I am unable to answer you, dear lady,”
replied Roy; “you have been asleep 9. long
time.”

The woman started up. She seemed to have
realized the startling truth, as, resting herself
on her elbow, she gazed out at the window and
saw that the ground .was covered with snow.
Then she said:

“I see I am not at home, and that strangers
-are around me. Is it possible that I have been
unconscious ever since the Indians came to our
cabin and beat me down? It was in June when
they came.”

‘ Of what yeari" asked Roy.

“ 0f the year 1835. What time is it now?”

" It is November of the same year.”

“Oh, my God!” she subbed, “and I have
been demented all that time! Poor Arthur,
poor Arthur! the Indians must have killed him,
or he would have come home to me! Where
have I been all this time, and where am I now?"

Royston St. Claire told her all—all that the
reader knows of the Lone Cabin and its strange
occupant up to that moment.

The woman lay apparently unconscious for a
long time, and Roy. felt that perhaps he had
done wrong in telling her all while she was so
weak; but, finally she aroused and burst into
tears. Long and bitterly she wept over her sad
fate. and the supposed death of her husband. _

Mrs. St. Claire and her son did all in their
~ power to cheer her and acify her sorrow, with
hopes of her husband sti 1 living. -

The days were on, and Florice Clenham—
such being, her name—slowly recovered from
her injury under the care of the good Widow
St. Claire. The color came to her cheeks.- a
beautiful luster to her eyes, and there were few
who would have known the poor, emaciated
form of the crazy woman, in the, round, rosy
gace, the lithe little figure of the Widow Clen-

am.

One day, after she had fully recovered her
health, the Widow St. Claire and she were alone
infighle cabin, when the elder widow suddenly
as :

“ What in the. world, Florice ever induced
you and your husband to come alone in into this
wilderness of dangers!”

“ To elude the vengeance of my father. dear
mother," the young widow replied, addressing
her kind boatess by that endearing name.
“ Father was a well-to-do farmer in Ohio, and
was bitterly opposed to my marriage with
Arthur Clenham, who was a poor man. But my
mother, God bless her favored my love, and so
I mamed Arthur. Then I induced him to come
to the West, where, being young and strong,
we both felt equal to the task of rearing us a
home, while at the same time I would be free
from the threats and scorn of my father. When
we reached the great prairie of the West.
our young hearts became filled with a spirit of
adventure; an , though we could have found a
beautiful home hundreds of miles. east of here.
we kept on until we reached the little wild-wood
dell. where Arthur, with my assistance, reared

  

 

us a cabin. We depended upon the game of the
forest, and the abundance of wild fruit for our
sustenance, for the nearest settlement was some
fifty miles away. The Indians then were at
fiance, and so we had nothing to fear from them.

ut, alas! in June, of the second year of our
residence there, Arthur went one day to chop in
the woods, back of the little clearing. Soon af-
ter he left I saw a number of Indians standing
on the edge of the clearing, looking toward the
cabin. After a while, one of them—a half-breed
—turned and came toward the cabin, while the
others moved away in the direction where
Arthur was at work.

“ A terrible foreboding of danger came over
me, but I resolved not to permit my looks to be-
tray my emotions to the half-breed. '

“When he entered the cabin, he came toward
me and asked me if I would be his wife. I felt
my blood run cold, but pretended not to have
heard him, and began to talk to him in a friend—
ly manner. But, be seized me and attempted
to drag me from the house. besperation lent
me courage and strength, and freeing myself
from his grasp, I seized a chair and struck him
a blow in the face that felled him to the floor.
Thissoenraged the save e. that he sprung to
his feet, and seeing a bills of wood that lay up-
on the hearth, he struck me a blow upon the
head, and I knew no more until I regained my
reason in your house. Isu pose the half-breed
thought he had killed me, and left the cabin,
though it is a wonder he did not fire our
house. Whether Arthur was killed or not, I do

not know; and now you know my sad story, dear .

mother.”
“ Deary me, it is sad enough,” returned the
widow, with tears of pity in her eyes.

CHAPTER XI.
snraoraan.

 

Two years and half had passed since Florice '

Clenham had become a member, or resident of
Pleasant Prairie. She had given up all hopes of
ever seeing her husband again in this world, for
the spring following her recovery, the settlers
found a human skeleton and an ax, lying buried
in the old leaves and Weeds back of the little
clearing in the woods. The ax Florice readily
recognized as her husband’s. and there was not
adoubt in her mind but the skeleton was his,

also.

The dark-eyed little widow had become a pet
in Pleasant Prairie. She had a way about her
of pleasing everybody. and enlisting their love
and sympathy. Proud of spirit, she would not
return to her father, but resolutely determined
to support herself. so long as the world would
give her honest employment.

During her convalescence, the Widow St.
Claire had taken a mother’s interest in her, and
the old lady embraced the first opportunity to

exact a promise of Florice, that she would make

their home her h0me,,also. The young widow
hesitated to make the promise, for she felt too
proud in spirit to be dependent on the generosity
of the widow and her son, and not until Mrs. St.
Claire had agreed to allow her to pay her way
with her own labor, would she make thepromise.

In her society the old lady found much jov.
She saw that she was of a kind and amiable dis-

q .

 

 

 

  
  
   
  
     
   

 

      

Bald Head. the

 

it"

Double Dodger.

 

position, tender and affectionate as a child, with
no little intellectual culture. She also saw that
Roy had become much attached to the society of
the young widow, and when she had considered
their natural dispositions in a matrimonial sense,
she could see no reason why Florice would not
make a splendid wife for Roy. As to Roy, she
felt certain—as is very natural with a fond

mother—that her son was worthy of any w0-'

man's love.

Mrs. St. Claire was not a match-making
mother. yet she was sure she could see her son’s
happiness of the future centered in Florice Clen-
ham, and one day, when a favorable opportunity
was offered. she took it upon herself to inform
him of her views.

Roy loved his mother. and would have sacri-
floed his own happiness for her, and always had
yielded to her requests, but in this case he mildly
demurred.

“ I am sure ” he said, “that the widow is
worthy of my ove, and would make a kind and
dutiful wife; but you would not advise me to
marry her, would you, mother, unless I loved
her, and my love was reciprocated ?"

“ No, no, Roy; but understand human
nature suflicient to enable me to see that Florice
loves you.”

“ Only as a brother, mother.”

“ It does not take love long to s ring from one

affection to another, until it final y settles down .

upon one object that only death can remove
Roy. Now, Florice is proud in s irit. and
would take every chance to concea her love
from you; for, in a great measure, she feels de-

ndent on us, and perhaps she thinks so, too.
gilt, did she think you loved her, she would

'not be \the woman to trifle with your love

or to keep hers concealed. IAam sure, Roy,
1: 1: you do not love Nellie Whitney, as every
one thigks; even if you did, she is nothing but a
child— ‘

“But will she not grow older, mother?” Roy
asked. smilingly.

“ Oh, certainly.” replied the mother. “but she

' is too young to marry now. and. Roy, you see I

am growing old and will not be with you
much longer, and oh, you do not know, my
dear boy how anxious am tosee_you settled
down with a kind and noble companion, such as
I know Florice will make before I am called

wa .”
‘ Th3; old lady had spoken with tears in her
eyes, which at once appealed to the young man’s
heart. He did love Nellie Whitney. but he was
so conscientious in his duty toward his mother
that he could not find it in his heart to refuse her
request, but said, evasively:

‘ I will study the matter over. mother; I will
consult my heart.”

Here the subject dropped for that time. But
the over-anxnous mother determined to follow
up ‘ dvantage already gained. She could
uvince herself but that Roy loved the
ow, and that the Widow loved Boy; that
their relative itions kept them_ estranged;
and she broug t every match-making faculty
into playto bring about a union of handsas

  

G
a

    

‘ well as hearts.”

Her labor was rewarded by Roy proposing to
09. .

The young widow was somewhat surprised,
and begged a few days to give an answer, which,
of course. kind-hearted Roy granted.

Poor Flor-ice, she was in a delicate positionu
She loved Roy us a brother. but not as a lover.
Besides, she did not know positively that Arthur
Clenhum was (loud; but even supposing that be
was, she had told herself since her recovery that
she would never marry again. But how could
she refuse Roy, who loved her, and who had
been a friend to her in the darkest hour of her
life? She felt that it would wound his heart
deeply; and in case she did refuse him. could she
remain there longer, dependent upon him? She
could not.

“ Well, Floricc, I shall insist uponan answer
now to my question.”

The young couple were standing in the cool
shade of an oak just outside of the stockade,
~when, Roy requested her answer.

Florice raised her eyes to those of the young
man, and murmured ow:

“ Roy, you have been more than a husband to
me in the darke~t hour of my life, and I can not
find it in my heart to refuse you my hand in
marriage.” '

And so their betrothal was sealed with a kiss
-—a betrothal that was rather cold and in-
formal—a betrothal in which two persons had
promised to marry, though neither had acknowl- ‘
edged that they deeply loved. In fact, kind-
hearted Roy was marrying the widow to please
his mother, while the ,widow was marrying Roy
{Imam a sense of duty and a deeper sense of grati-

u e. -

The day was fixed for the wedding, and then
the betrothed returned to the cabin"

But there had been an unwilling witness to the
hetrothal. Nellie W hi they, in the last few days.
had grown sad enough in (30115811381108 of neglect
by Roy, and his attentions to t e 01mg, dark-
eyed lorice Clenham; and, to he a one With her
thou hts, she had taken a time-worn book and
wan ered out into the edge of the forest and
sought a. seat amid the low boughs of the’oak
where the summer breezes were waited from
over the green. flowery prairie. The boughs she
had reached by means of a rustic ladder that
Roy himself had made by which to reach the
silvan shade of the oak. and here she had sat
and witnessed her Invar’s betrothal, unable to
escape without being seen, and though she had
no desire to eavesdrop, she was compelled to lis—
ten to their conversation. c

Tears came into her eyes, and a heartfelt sigh
escaped her lips when she realized that Roy
would soon be lost to her forever.

All the past came up mockingly before her.
She remembered how she had prayed for his
safe return on that stormy winter evening when
the young man had first brought tho emaciated
form of the 1' crazy woman to Pleasant
Prairie. But 5 e felt no pang of regret that her
prayers had been answered, now, even that his
coming brought her who was to turn ‘her own
cup ofsweet joy to bitter gall.

 

All Pleasant Prairie was on tiptoe. ‘ r
In two days Royston St. Claxre and the Wid-

 

ow Clenham were to be married.

 

18 Bald Read, the

 

     

Double Dodger.

 

All the settlers had been invited, Parson
Briggs officiating. .

The wedding was to come off in the eVenlng,
and then to be followed by a “ grand hop."

I will mention here that, during the summer,
several other families had been added to the
settlement of Pleasant Prairie, so that the
young folks, including the married people that
were not too old to trip “ the light fantastic
toe,” were of sufficient number to have a goodly,
old-fashioned border-gathering time.

No jeweled belles nor scented dandies with the
false smiles and vain hearts of “aristocratic "
circles, were to be there. In their calico and
home-spun, the settlers of Pleasant Prairie had
calculated upon an evening of amusement in
which every one could enjoy themselves to their
utmost, heart and soul.

But one thing was lacking to make the Occa-
sion a success, so far as the inner man was con-
cerned, and that was a lentiful variety of pro-
visions; This Roy could) procure and in com-
pany with the old hunter, Town IVanslow, who
was then stopping at the settlement, and Lomiah
Symbro, he set OE, the day before his wedding,
for Storm Lake, to rocure a supply of fish and
game that abound there. It was their intan-
tion to go up one day and return by the middle
of the afternoon on the next.

On leaving for the lake, Florice Clenham ap-
proached Roy, and with a smile hovering about
her lips, said:

“Now, dear Roy, when you go up to Storm
Lake you must be careful for fear of falling into
V the hands of that creature called the Spirit of
the Lake.” ,

Roy laughed, kissed her pleading lips and was

gone.

The Widow St. Claire set earnestly to work
making preparations for her son’s marriage,
and she was ably assisted by Florice, an act
which these days of “refinement” would look
upon with scorn and contempt.

To all but Nellie Whitney, the hours dragged
wearily by. The wedding day came. The mid~
die of the afternoon came, but to the surprise of
his mother and betrothed, Roy and his com-
panions had not returned from the lake. How-
ever, they felt noways alarmed, but as the even-
ing approached and he had not come, they began
to wonder. Still the waited and watched.

The sun had gone own. It lacked but a few
minutes of the hour set for the wedding, and
still they had not come.

The‘ mother and Florice began to grow un-
easy. Moat of the guests had gathered in.

Parson Briggs had been on hand for over an
hour, rigged out in his gayest suit, and whether
or not it was his intention, the guests all be-
lieved he was ing to take an active part in the
dance, for his cat were incnsed in a air otnew
pumpS—Tprobably brou ht from So om~Which
was quite a change om the heavy ones he
usually wore.

The last of the guests had arrived, including
the “cullud” musician. Darkness had set in,
and no Roy!

The faces of the party at length grew serious;
' and they beganto gut er in little groups, and

speak in whi's rs, shake their heads ominously,
and gver an anion glance toward Florice or

Mrs. St. Claire, or Mrs. Symbro, who was also
mourning the absence of her son, Loamiah
Henry, in an occasional outburst of tears of sor-
rOW.

Parson Briggs had labored hard to keep up the
spirits and hopes of the party, but at last his
store of wit and humor was exhausted, and he
gave up quite hgpelessly, and taking a seat near
the Widow St. lire (so that he could speak an
occasional word of consolation to her) he looked
quite seriously down his nose, sighed deeply,
glanced at the widow and sighed again.

Still the minutes rolled rapidly into the tide of
the past, and no Roy.

The wedding—party had begun to assume more
the appearance of a funeral-party, and some
were talking of going home, some going in search
of the absent men, some one thing and some an-
other, when suddenly the door was thrust vio-
wlently open and a doleful sight, in the she of

Loamiah H’enrySymhro, stood in the mi st of
the astcnished group.

CHAPTER XII.
“ cum BY sown.”

WHEN Town Vanslow recovered from the ef-
fects of the blow, which he sup had been
dealt by his friend, Bald Head, he found that he
was lying in the bottom of a canoe which was
being rapidly paddled forward.

Opening his eyes, he found that they were
upon a narrow stream, from which the low-
hanging foliage of the trees that lined either
shore, shut out evory ra of li ht, though now
and then he could onto a g mpse of a star
through the trees.

He found that he was not bound, but, lying
perfectly still, he feigned unconsciousness that
0 might ascertain his situation and calculate
the chances of escape while his limbs were free'

of bonds.

After his eyes had become somewhat accus-
tomed to the 51mm, he found that he was being
conveyed up eath Channel, and to his surprise
he found that his captors were Indians, instead
of Bald Head.

Vanslow knew that he was being taken to the
Indian village, and if he would escape, he had
not much time to wait, for, at the rapidity with
which they were moving up the stream, they
would soon reach the Indian stronghold. In-
deed they wcre just starting from the mouth of
the channel, when the old hunter recovered his
senses.

But how could he escape? He was lying in
the bottom of the canoe with his legs under the
seat upon which sat the paddler, while at his
head, in the stern of_ the canoe, sat the other
savage, his' hand resting upon the handle of a
hatchet. ~

The hunter suddenly remembered that in the
bosom of his hunting-shirt he always carried a
small hunting-knife, and upon a careful exam-
inatiop he found that it had escaped the eyes of
his captors. This weapon he at once drew from
its concealment by moving his hand very slowly,
so as not to make a noise.

Concealing the knife, the hunter watched for
the opportunity to strike.

The canoe was one of those large Indian con-

 

 

cerns made of bark and buflalo-hide, and the

)

  

1,3:

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

Bald Head. the Double Dodger. _ 19

 

bottom was so water-soaked that it was as soft
and pliable as green hide itself; and it was of
this that Va slow resolved to take advantage by
cuttings h e in the bottom of the craft, for
what purpose will soon be shown.

At last the canoe came to where the foliage
hung so low that the paddler was compelled to
relinquish the paddle and propel the canoe for—
ward by pullin at the boughs, which in order
to pass under, t e savages were obliged to stoop
forward.

These movements caused the canoe to rock
and dip down at the forward end, and, of course,
the water within the craft was swashed about
with much noise. A momentary confusion en-
sued, but it was the moment for the hunter to

act. .

'Quickly taking up his small but keen-edged
knife, he thrust its point through the thin, soft
bottom of the canoe; then, with a circling sweep,
he cut a circular hole about three or four inches
in diameter clear through, and before a gallon
of water had rushed in, he thrust his arm down
through the hole to the shoulder, thus complete-
ly stopping it.

At the same instant the canoe floated clear of
the low-drooping foliage; the oarsman resumed
the cars, and the guard began feeling around
the “supposed unconscious pale-face, but as the
latter lay upon his right side, the cunning Sioux
failed to discover that his right arm was through
the bottom of the canoe to the shoulder, and
supposing all was right he resumed his upright
position. I

Presently the canoe abruptly stopped. The
paddler uttered a low, dissatisfied grunt and
gave the paddle an angry sweep, but the craft
refused to move. The attempt was repeated
with no better success. The savage began to
wonder, and Town Vanslow to laugh to himself.

In the hand that was dragging in the water
under the canoe, Town' clutched his knife, the
point forward at right~angles with his arm,
making a‘ kind of a hook which had caught

V around a large root ascending out into the wa-

ter.

The harder the savage tried tomove the canoe,
the tighter Vanslowclung to the rootI and at last
the red-skin gave it‘up, not a little vexed. _

“ Ugh! boat catch on root,” he _said. to his
companion. in the native dialect which Vanslow
well understood. '

“ Well, what do then?” questioned the guard.
' “You get out-push off canoe."

“Ugh! get wet—no like to—you run boat—
you get out.”

Thus for some time they sat and parleyed, un-
til, at last, the guard concluded that he could
‘1'th out and push it off. Leaning ovor tho
gunwale he reached down to the water and be-
gan feeling around for the exact location of the
obstructing root. Seeing this movement, Van-

, slow resolved to have some fun as well as ad-

venture at the risk of losing his knife and his

hold on the root. v _ .
So he quickly thrust the oint of the knife in
the root, then he threw h 5 hand outward and

seized the savage by 'the arm with which he was

' feeling for the root. As the largest portion of

the red-skin's body was hanging over the aim-
wale, it required no very great effort for Van-

O

l

 

slow to jerk the savage overboard into the water,
though in doing so the canoe alumst upset.

Not knowing that he was in the grasp of his
supposed unconscious captive. nor, in fact, what
it was that had seized him, the savage set up
a lusty yell. VauSIOW could scarcely refrain
from an outburst of laughterI but, biting his lip
and tightening his grip on the red-skin’s arm,
by a sudden and powerful effort, he succeeded
in drawing the savagc under the water; then,
by a quick motion, he relinquished his hold on
the arm and seized the savage~by the scalp-lock,
which enabled him to hold him down without
scarcely an eflort.

In the mean time, the paddler, frightened al-
most out of his savage wits by the sudden and

"unaccountable disappearance of his companion,

had discovered that the canoe swung clear of
the obstruction, and, seizing the paddle he sent
the craft flying up the stream, regardless of his
friend’s fate.

However, his friend was close after him.
Town Vanslow determined to keep him under
the water until 'life was extinct, and when the
canoe started off the old hunter clung on to the
scalp-lock and dragged the drowning wretch
along, his heels turned upward and churning
the waterlike the flakes ofa wounded whale,
and occasionally giving the stern of the canoe a.
thump that sent it almost u on its beam—ends.

It was not long, however, efore the strugglin
fellow’s efforts began to grow weaker an
weaker; and finally, when Vanslow knew, that
life was extinct, he released his hold and al-
low‘ed him to float away at the will of the cur-
ren .

The hunter now turned his attention to the
paddler, who was laboring for dear life at the

addle. His back was toward the hunter, and
it would be but a momentary job for him—
Vans10w—to put the savage out of the way.
Near his head lay the defunct guard’s hatchet,
but he dared not move his arm from the hole in
the canoe to use it. But the inventive mind of
Town Vanslow was never atalosa when de-
cision was required at the instant.

Slowly and carefully drawing his feet from
under the paddler’s seat, he gathered all his
strength. then planted them in the savage’s
back with such force that he was very uncere-
moniously induced to turn a double somer-
set over the raw of the canoe into Death
Channel, flinging his paddle backward into the
canoe as he flew overboard. '

Vanslow burst into a ringing and triumphant
laugh. He was free of his captors, though the
unfortunate Sioux set up alusty howling the
thnent he recovered his breath, and there was
danger of his bringing friends to the reswe.

Not a moment was to be lost for the old hun-"
tor heard the savages at the village, not a great
way 01!, answering his yells. So, snatching of!
his coonskin cap, Town drew his arm quickly
from the hole in the bottom of the canoe and
stopped it with hiscap, though not before it had
half-filled with water.

Takin up the paddleso fortunately left to
him, he rove the craft to the shore. and draw-
ing the boat up on the beach, be emptied tha
water out, thoroughly stopped the hole, then
launched the canoe again, and, in a. moment

 

\
J

 

\

 

20 Bald Head. the Double Dodger.

 

more, had embarked down the stream quite
rs, idly, as the current was in his favor.

n a very few minutes he reached the low-
drooping branches where he had cut the hole in
the bottom of the canoe during the confusion of
the passage a few minutes before.

Leaning forward the hunter allowed the
canoe to float at the will of the current under
the trailing branches. It moved quite slowly
and with no little noise, and, all at once he felt
during the passage, a slight, vibratory shock of
the canoe as though some heavy muffled body
had touched it, causing it to dip slightly be-
hind. However, the hunter thought but little
of it, and the canoe passed on and out from un-
der the boughs.

By this time the moon had so changed, that,
for abouta rod below the trailing branches, it
shone down through an opening in the branches
overhead full upon the stream.

As the canoe was just entering this moonlit
space, the hunter’s ears were greeted by the
voice of a savage speaking very bad English:

“Hel be! Ugh! pale-face think he heap
smart!”

Vanslow dropped the paddle, and, springing
to his feet, he turned to find himself face to face
with a tall Indian standing in the stern of the
canoe! It we the identical savage whom he
supposed he had drowned a few minutes pre
vious, by ‘holding him under the canoe in the
water by the scalp-lock.

The red-skin had possessed more of the am-
phibious endurance than the old hunter had
supposed, and the moment he arose to the sur-
face he regained his breath and struck out for
shore. The savage climbed in among the trail-
ing branches, and when the canoe, with Van-
slow, was passing under, be carefully dropped
himself down into the stern. intending to wreak
a terrible vengeance upon the pale-face, though
he possessed no arms, excepting those that nature
gave him, while the hunter was no better off.

For a moment the two stood upright in the
canoe, glaring at each other like enraged beasts.

In the mean time, the canoe was drifting on.

‘Suddenly something touched Vanslow just
below the arms.

It was a. long, straight limb, reaching quite
across the stream from an elm tree that stood
upon the brink of Death Channel.

The hunter steeped to pass under. Just then
the savage sprung forward, and reaching over
the limb, seized him by the hair of his bend.

Vanslow straightened up. The limb now was

between them. Quicker than a flash the old‘

hunter threw his long, muscular arm over the
bough and seized the savage by the seal -lock.

ith their disengaged hand, one began
pounding the other in the stomach.

A desperate struggle began.

The canoe, in the action, was kicked out from
under them, and, ‘_‘cheek by jowl,” as it were,
the two hung in mid—air over the limb, each de-
termined to die rather than relinquish hold on
the other’s hair. I

A right lively time had they, indeed.

' CHAPTER XIII. .
manna HENRY IN TROUBLE.
LET as follow up Loamiah Symbro, after part-

 

 

ing with Town Vanslow by the lake-shore, with
the avowed intention of returning to Pleasant
Prairie and from thence to Sodom.

Leaving the old hunter, the young man start-
ed ofl' toward the south at the top of his speed.
But owing to the absence of landmarks, the
darkness of the forest aisles, and the pitch to
which the fugitive’s mind had been wrought by
prolonged and startling excitement, he gradu-
ally changed his coursc and instead of traveling
south toward Pleasant Prairie, he was moving
west.

Had the terrified young man continued on all
night at the speed with which he had started,
and without any interruption, it is very proba-
ble that the morning would have found him on
the banks of the “mad” Missouri; but he was
destined to meet with unexpected trouble.

In his headlong flight through the gloomy
woods, he suddenly run against a savage with
such terrific violence that both he and the sav-
age were sent backward to the earth, a galaxy
of beautiful stars twinkling before their eyes.
From the force with which they collided it was
evident that the Indian was running eastward
at as great speed as Loaminh was, westward.

A cry of surprise and. pain escaped each one’s
lips as he went down.

Fully as quick as they had fallen, they regain-
ed their feet. They were now some twenty feet
apart, which fact showed the distance that they
had recoiled.

Each one was ignorant of who the other was
—whether friend or foe. The savage advanced
and said in good Sioux:

“ Ugh! heap dark, brother;—skin nose; see
stars!"

Loamiah did not wait to hear more, but turns
ing_ his face southward he tool: to his heels
again.

The savage, seeing that it was not a “ brother "
Sioux, and terribly exasperated by the collision
turned. and uttering a. yell, started in pursuit of
the white fugitive.

Loamiah had not gone far when he discovered
that he was being followed. This discovery
seemed to renew his speed, but no difference
how much faster he ran, he could still hear the
ominous footfalls of his pursuer.

Loamiah's strength began to fail. The night’s
exertion and excitement had about exhausted

him. His footsteps began to grow shorter. The ,

perspiration was rolling down his face, and his
breath was coming short and quick.

Nearer and louder sounded the tramp, tramp
behind.

Loamiah stopped; he could go no further.
Turning toward his pursuer, he threqup his
arms and caught hold of a stout limb. Stepping

_ one foot backward, to gain impetus, he threw

himself forward, and endeavored to swing him-
self up onto the limb. But, as his heels were

oing up, they suddenly came in contact with
t 6 face of the savage, who at thlsinstanthad
come'within reach.

Down went the red-skin under force of the
blow, and losing his hold on the limb, down went
Loamiab flat upon his back.

The savage was severely injured by Loamiah's
heavy brogans, and thinking discretion the bet-
ter part of valor, he cunnineg resolved to lay

. l

 

 

 

 

< ’ $5.531“ ‘

 

 

 

 

Bald Head, the Double Dodger.

21

 

perfectly quiet where he had fallen. Curious to
say, the instant Loamiah fell to the ground, he
made a similar resolve, and so each one, hidden

from view in the dark, lay perfectly quiet listen—‘

ing for each other’s footsteps, or some noise that
would mark his exact locality.

The minutes glided by.

Overcome with exhaustion, both the savage
and white man fell asleep.

So soundly did the worthy pair of foes sleep,
that when the night had passed and the sun
arose, they were still asleep, lying within fifteen
feet of each other.

Loamiah was the first to awake, when the sun
was an hour high; and, springing up in great
bewilderment, he made so much confusion that
the savage was awakened, al-o. .

For an instant the two glnred at each other
like maddened beasts; then Loamiah turned and
fled, the Indian after him.

They had not run far, when they emerged into
the prairie that stretched away southward for
miles and miles. This change of ground, Lou-
miah thought, would give him a clearer truck,
but, at the same time, it was as. much to the
favor of the savage as it was to him. However,
they dashed on over the prairie at a remarkable
s eed.

pMile after mile was passed over. Steadin the
savage gained on the fugitive. Not three paces
intervened between, whena wide, marsh slough
appeared directly before the fugitive. u a mo-
ment it was reached, and springing from tussock
to tussock. Loamiah attempted to crass the

uivering mire, but, unfortunately. his foot
8 ipped from one of the tussocks, and down he
went in the mud and water.

The savage uttered a yell and dashed forward,
but, unfortunately for him, he stumbled over
Loamiah and pitched forward into the mud,
headforemost to the shoulders.

Loamiah by this time was partly up, and see-
ing that he must fight or die, he floundered for-

' ward through the mud, and getting astride of

the savage’s body, before he could extricate
himself," began to rain blow after blow upon
the Sioux. \

Risin from the writhing form, Loamiah now
seized t e savage by the heels, and raising him
upon his head, began churning him up and
down in the mire, until he had settled him down
half his length. Then he released his hold, and
leavin the suffocating red-skin .with his moc-
casineg heels swinging in the air, he crossed
the slough and took his way toward Pleasant
Prairie.

He had not gone more than a hundred ards,
when he happened to look back an saw
the supposed defunct, “Mr. L0,” crawilfrom
the slough—rise to his feet and shake himself
like a water-spaniel.

Loamiah felt a_chill creep over him, and he at
once quickened his footsteps.

Presently he looked a am. This time he saw
the doleful-looking red—s in standing looking to
ward him, shaking one fist at him in threaten—
ing manner, while with the other hand he was

' ‘ digging the mud from his mouth.

dstill a. few minutes later he saw, to his
great joy, that the Indian had turned, and was

 

wending his way slowly, and no doubt sadly,‘
back toward the timber.

Loamiah was now permitted to make the rest
of his journey in peace,but, having gone far
out of his way, it was late in the evening be-
fore he reached Pleasaut Prairie.

When he entered the stockade, he saw the
bright lights burning in the window of St.
Claire’s house, and at once bent his footste s
thither, to break to the assembled guests t e
news of Roy's death.

Approaching the house, and utterly regardless
of the mud n on his face, hands and clothes, he
dashed into t 9 room. i ‘

A deathly silence fell upon the wedding-party.
Every one gazed in wonder upon the apparition

before them.

h.Loamiah’s mother was the first to recognize
im.

“ Oh! it’s my darling boy i” exclaimed the old
lady, and with a bound she stood at his side.
“ 0h, Loamiah Hen , where have you been?”
“U to Storm La 6 slayin‘ Ingins,” the gal-
lant 0y replied, gently pushing his mother
away, “but, stand back, mother; I’ve got some
news for this crowd."

“Where is Roystou, Loamiah?” asked Mrs.
St. Claire.

“That’s what I am going to tell,” returned
the youu man glancing toward Florice Olen-
ham. “ 0y is dead—he was drowned in the
hike last night.” ‘

The news fell like a thunderbolt upon the ears
of the party.

Mrs. St. Claire sunk down in a swoon, and
Florice' clasped her brow in her hands and eat
like one in a trance.

A low murmur passed from lip to lip.

Parson Bri gs and some of the women sprung
at once to t e assistance of the unconscious
widow. Soon she recovered from the shock,
and then Loamiah related the particulars of
his and Roy’s capture b the Indians, the dis«,
appearance of Roy, and is owp escape and ad-
venture in the slough. , l

The _wedding—party’s gayety was turned to
piourning, and soon the guests began to return

ome.

. Mrs. St. Claire and Florice wished to be alone
in their sorrow, and in a few moments the last
of the guests had taken their departure.

Parson Briggs went last. and, as he passed
out, Mrs. St. Claire heard him saying something
about her seeking consolation and support, in
another, since Roy was dead.

 

CHAPTER XIV.
PALE-FACE wrr VERSUS SAVAGE CUNNING.

FURIOUSLY Town Vanslow and the savage
hammered each other in the stomach with their
fists as they hung in mid-air over the limb h
their arms, their fingers clutched in each other 8
hair. Des rater they kicked in vain endeav-
01'5 t0 brea each other’s bold, but the harder
they struggled the tighter they clutched each
other’s scalpdock,

The limb swaying u and down under its

P
‘ floundering load, dipped so low that the combat-

ants suuk in the stream to their knees, then
swung upward again. -

 

 

 

22

    

Bald Head, the Double Dodger.

 

As each one was in an (finally disadvantageous
position, their kicks and h )ws were painless, and
after Vanslow had become somewhat accustomed
to his position, he very coolly said:

“See here, red-skin, how’s yer top-knot feel,

eh?”
“ Ughl how yourn!” returned the savage,
, with a blow in the stomach.

“Lor’, you darned fool, it feels good; I alers
tie myself up this way by the ha’r whenever I
take a nap," said Vanslow, “ and if ye’d jist keep
still yer tarnal rubbin’ 0’ me in the stumick, I’d
take a nap new.”

“ Waughl pale-face lie—hurt bad as do In-

i 1,

“ Ho! hol red-skin, ye’r’ mistaken l”

“Then let go Ingin—Ingin hold—let sleep—-
hea sound 1”

“, 6’!" a clever dog, red—skin. but I’ll do it,”
and, so saying, Town threw his left arm over the
limb, and, supporting his weight thereby, re-
leased his right hand from the savage’s hair,

' which gave him a decided advantage over his
enemy.

Vanslow now threw his legs forward and
locked them around the body of the savage, and,
with his right hand be seized the red-skin by the
throat. In an instant, almost. the wretch’s
mouth flew open, his tongue shot out and his
snake-like eyes started from their sockets. A
loud wheezing soon told how viselike was the
hunter’s grip, and presently he felt the savage’s
fingers relaxing their hold on his hair, and it was
not long until victory was his. With a gasp the
savage, dropped like a lump of lead into the
,water, while Vanslow, holding on the limb, still
hung in the air.

“Hal ha! ha! TOWD' that was a fight under
difficulty,” :1 voice suddenly rung out.

A thrill of joy passed over the heart of Van—
slow, for he recognized the voice to be that of
his friend Bald Head.

“ You bet, Bald Head,” returned Town; it
war a reg’lar ha’r—pnllin’ affair, but, put under
and let me dra p-inter yer boat.”

Bald Head drove the canoe forward in which
he was seated, and look his friend aboard. The
latter looked about for the red-skin’s body but it

7 was nowhere to be seen.
- “ I tell you, Town, that was the liveliest little
aflair that I’ve witnessed lately.”

“ Then you see’d it all?” ,

“Yea, from the moment you seized hair. I
saw that neither possossed wsa ons. so I thought

- I wouldnltintertere and see t e fun, and when
you kicked the canoe out from under you. _I
waited until it floated a ways, then I drew it
ashore With a pole, got in and paddled it back to
where I couldsee the hair-pulling affair and be
ready tohelp you in case you needed it. But,
how did you come to be up here?”

Vauslow related his adventures, then asked:

“ But what kept you ’round the lake 1”

“ I got into a muss with some reds, and come

> nigh going under, too.”

‘ Any news from the boys?” asked Town.

“ Not a word nor sight,’ returned Bald Head.
“ What success did you have?”

"‘ Good success, but bad news,” said Town,
and then he went on and narrated his meeting

 

with Immiah, and all that individual had told V

him in regard to their capture, Roy’s death, and
his-~Loamiah’s—escape.
H“§Ieavcnsl that’s too bad!” exclaimed Bald

ea .

“Yas, it war had; for, to-morrer night Roy
war to have married the Widder Clenham.”

“ Widow Clenham!” repeated Bald Head.

“ Yes; one o' the dungdest poorty little critters
in the settlement.”

“ Where’s she from?” queried Bald Head.

“ From a little cabin over in the woods. Roy
went in thar one day and found the goor thing
ther crazy, and when she see’d him, 5 e started
to run, and struck her head ag’inst the winder-
sill and fell unconscious. Roy carried her
home, and when she come to, she war just as
sane as anybody, and the fu’st thing she axed
war if the Ingins war gone, or sumthin’ that
way, and then she wanted to know it her hus-
band hed come home yit."

“ And did she say what his name was?” asked
Bald Head. .

“Arthur Clenham; he went under, tor the
settlers found a skeleton and an ax back 0’ the
clearin’, whar the woman said her husband war
at work, and that settled his case; and so young
St. Cla’re hez fell in love with the widder, and
war goin’ to marry her toomorrer night, poor
teller.”

“ But, what brought him up to the lake?”

“You see we come up to git some fish and
game fer the afl’air—but what’s the matter,-
Bald Head?— Scissors!”

The last exclamation by the old hunter was
caused by Bald Head moving about in the
canoe, and stepping upon the old hunter’s cap,
that was stuffed in the hole in the bottom of the
canoe, pushed it through. Instant] the canoe
began to fill with water, and sink. he hunters
sprung out into the stream and struck for shore
but, unfortunately, they became separated, an
put the stream between them.

No sooner had Vanslow reached shore than he
was roughly Seized and buried to the ground.
A savage yell told who his captors ,were.

In an instant he was bound, and being con-
ducted toward the Indian village.

Bald Head was gone, and for the second time

- a dark suspicion flashed in Vanslow‘s mind—-

Bald Head was a traitor. and for the second
time he had betrayed him into the power of the
Indians.

In a. short time the Indian village was reached.
To a stake in one of the lodges Vanslow was
bound hand and foot, to await whatever execu-
tion mi ht be determined upon. A guard, a
great, big, burly half-breed named Wolf-Head,
was stationed b the prison door.

It was not ong until daylight came. Van-

slow now looked for the savages to take him
out to his execution, hut Wolf-Head, his guard,
informed him that his fate would not be deter-
mined until after Sirlominadotah had consulted
the Great Spirit in the Spirit Oak.
. Slowly the day wore away. Night came on
space. It was nearly dark when the aged chief
entered the tent wherein lay Vanslow, and hav-
ing seen that he was still secure, turned and
went out and sought the council-house [or com-
munion with the Great Spirit.

Vsn510w would have entertained some hope of

\

  

 

\

 

:

_  in his haunts or not.

Bold Head, the

Double Dodger. “ 28

 

escape had he not believed that Bald Head was
ltraitor, but, as it was, he could do nothing,
for he already had exhausted his strength in
Vlln endeavors to break his bonds. However,
When night had fully closed in, be resolved to
fluke one more effort.

Wolf-Head, the great, burly half-breed, still
kept guard over him, lonking into the tent once
0! twice every hour. When darkness set in he
built a small fire in front of the Prison Lodge, be-

ing its light would provea charm against
the/terrible Spirit of the Lake. A few faint
3‘st found their way into the tent, where

‘ Ynnslow sat, through small holes in the cover-

“: he prisoner could see the shadowy outlines of
, guard without, and with his eyes fixed u 11
go shadow he began tugging at his bonds.v ut
c more he attempted to break them the tighter
they became. At last he gave up in despair,
d leaned his head back against the post to
ich he was tied.
{Just then he felt a vibratory shock of the
t, and heard a dull, grating noise. What
3 it? He bent his head, and listened intently.
could still hear the dull grating which
. med to be in the earth beneath him. Still he
toned—still the noisa continued, and each ino-
, I at it seemed to grow plainer and plainer.
 Suddenly he felt a current of cold air pervade
' e lodge; and for a moment a cloud of dust
floated around him. This was followed by a
noise resembling the crumbling of dirt, and he
, It once discovered that somethin , or some one,
was digging in the ground beneat where he sat,
allt‘l he had scarcely made this discove when a
hand was laid upon his shoulder. e started
With sudden surprise, for he knew that no one
‘ (I entered the lodge by the door.,
'TWisting his head around, Vanslow beheld the

" a . and shoulders of a man protruding from a

is in the ground at his left. And a cold chill
el‘ept over him when he saw that the head and
use of the man was concealed in a fur hood.
I It was Red Star, the Spirit of the Lake!
Before Vanslow could utter a sound,'the mys-
lhrlous man had cut his bonds and whispered:
, - “Besilent, man. Drop yourself down through
4 this hole into the cavern below. Then follow
Ii’th‘ P688320 along toward the east until an
:zcome to where its mouth is concealed by the 6119
 the (Weak; then let yourself down in the wa-
“hr—dash through the descending column of wa-
ter. gain the east» shore. and then follow the east
bank of Death Channel to its mouth. Then you
lmeet a friend."
As he concluded, the bonneted figure sprung

r le into the lodge and fairly forced Vanslow

wn into a great, damp cavern below.
or a moment the hunter was almost dum-

\n. founded when he found himself in the gloomy
 Vault. He lmew not whether he had been the

Victim of the terrible Red Star and was entrap-
He listened for him,
t all was silent. -- Surely he did not mean him

» , ,_ and so he resolved to follow the course he
"th given him in order to escape. He started
‘ Outward through the great cavern. which he
thou ht might have been hollowed out by the
’ hundg of the Great Architect. He kept his course
 feeling along the damp walls. Presently the

I sound of water fell upon his ears. He pressed

on, and soon he found his passage disputed by a
sheet of water falling over it like a great apron.
Throu h this falling column of water the
hunter p tinged as he had been directed. To his
surprise he ound himself in the open air, but
standing in the waters of the creek waist deep.
Before him were the head-waters of Death Chem
nel. To his left was the gloomy forest; to the
ri ht the Indian encampment. »
. file could see the Council Lodge from the cente
of which arose the‘majeslic oak, and as he saw
that alight was burning in the lodge he thought
that even then his fate was being determined.

The old hunter listened. Plainly he could hear
the voices of the savages, and could even dis-
tinguish the outlines of a sentinel sitting on the
bank of the creek a few rods before him.

Cautioust he waded to the shore and crawled
up the bank on the side next to the forest. Again
he paused and looked toward the village, which
was now in plain sight. Only the creek separat-
ed them. A hundred small fires were twinkling
through the village in front of the lodged, a
charm against the Spirit of the Lake. -

Running his eyes over the different lodges,
Vanslow had no trouble in selecting the one in
which he had been confined. Still in front- of it
sat WolfAHead smoking). It was quite evident
that his escape had not con discovered yet but.
even while he was looking, the burly half—breed
arose to his feet and entered the lodge.

The old hunter drew back into the shadow of
some bushes. for the next instant he expected to
hear Wolf-Head yell‘ out the alarm. But in
this he was disappointed, for several minutes
passed by and the half-breed did not come out of
the lad e. .

Vans ow shuddered, for well he knew what
had been the fate of the savage. Without a
doubt the mysterious Spirit of the Lake was
lurking therein!

Turning, he moved cautiously back into the
woods; then by a circuitous route he reached
the bank of Death Channel some distance below
the Indian village. Briskly he set 011' down the
fieam. An hour’s walk brought him to the

e.

Where was the friend that he was to meet?
He stopped and listened.

Just then a voice hailed him. The old hunter
started with joy.

It was the voice of Roy!

“ Holy scissors!” exclaimed Vanslow; “ it’s
Roy St. Claire i”

“The same. old friend,” returned Roy, ad-
vancing and taking the hunter byvthe hand.

CHAPTER XV.
A REVELATION.

IN the Council-Led e, Sidominadotah sought
communion with the rent Spirit. ,

When he entered he found a bright fire burn-
ing, and seating himself facing the oak he said:

“ The moon has kissed the top of the Spirit
Oak, and Sidominadotah has sought the Great
Spirit in the Council-Lodge.” . .

“ I am here," responded the mysterious veice,
which seemed to come from the oak:

“ It is well,” returned the aged chief, “ for the
heart of Bidominadotah is sad.”

\

 

 

 

 

24- /

Bald Head, the Double Dodger.

 

“ It always is,” returned the voice, “ but it
will be much sadder before another' moon kisses
the forest-tops.”

“Will the Great Spirit speak plainer?”

“ Yes. The Spirit of the Lake will be in the
heart of your village, and one of your best war-
riors will fall.”

“ And when will the terrible Spirit of the

,Lake be captured?”

“Never, unless your hraves are more obedi-
ent. They might have taken the dreaded enemy
at Turtle Island had War Eagle followed my
directions, but he did not, and his life paid for
his neglect.”

The aged chief groaned aloud, and for a mo-
ment he was silent.

“ Can the Great e§ipirit tell why the Spirit of
the Lake hates the r -menl” he-flnally asked.

“Yes,” returned the voice. “ Does the chief
remember the young pale-face that came many
suns ago with his young squaw and built his
Wigwam in the wildwood dell not many leagues
from the great lake?”

' “ Sidominadotah remembers well,” returned
the chief. . -

“ And does the chief remember what became
of the young pale-face and his squawi” the voice
as

“ He does," returned the aged chief. “ Side-
minadotah saw the folly of his forefathers by
allowing the . ale-face to settle upon their
hunting-groan s, and so he sent the young War
Eagle to warn them to leave." .

“ And did the pale-face go?”

“ Sidominadotah has never heard of him since.
He must have been wise and gone away.”

“ Was there not’a scalp at War Eagle’s girdle
when he came back?” questioned the voice in the

oak.
“ There was. The scalp of a hunter who had
slain man of my warriors.”

.“The c ief is mistaken. It was the scalp of
the young settler. War Eagle did not warn
him to leave, but like the serpent he crawled
through the woods upon the young pale~face and
struck him down and scalpecl him and left his
body 501' the carrion-crow and the wolf to feed

I: n. »
p‘(‘)A11d. what became of the white squaw?”
asked the chief.

“ The cowardly half- breed, Wolf-Head, struck
her down, and then ran without taking her
scalg, but his life has paid for the act.”

“ idominadotah does not understand the

.firfregt Spirit when he speaks of Wolf-Head’s

e.

“ Then I will tell you whatImean,” said the
mysterious voice. “ Sidominadotah, as well as
his warriors, is a dunned old fool.”

The aged chief started as though a bullet had
pierced hlS heart. He clutched his tomahawk
and gazed around as though he expected to see
an enemy start up from the shadows that
lurked in the lodge.

“ Has the Great Spirit become angry with the
chlieefi. of the great Sioux nation?” he finally
as

“Strike upon this tree with your tomahawk,
chief,” was the voice’s response. '

The chief, in his excitement, involuntarily
relied his tomahawk and struck the tree. The

 

 

chief started as he did so, for the blow gavé
back a deep, hollow sound. \ ‘78
“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the mysterious voice,‘ 3“
“ I suppose you see now what an old fool you’vq‘ “'1
been. This tree is hollow as a shell, almost;
and the hollow communicates with an un: ‘
derground passage. I am Red Star, the
Spirit of the Lake and not the Great Spirit, as th
you have supposed. I had planned the destrucs‘ ‘
tion of your warriors, as you well know.
could have slain you, chief, easily enough but tn‘
respected your age and the little spark of hu{'
manity that you possessed. I should not hav 9t
revealed my deception upon you, but I wish ‘3"
you to know how bitter is my vengeance. Yon" K]
may now chop down the Spirit Oak, and follow 1“
the passage that leads from it through the cit). =
of the ancient Mound-builders, but you will no} .9!“
find the Spirit of the Lake. 'Farewell, Side '1‘

.niinadotah, farewell.”

The chief stood like an inanimate figure, hiss d1
bony fingers seeming to freeze to the handle of‘ 5‘
his tomahawk. He heard the noise that wad V‘
produced by the retreating enemy from the t'
hollow of the oak, and then with a low exclama-'=
tion of baffled vengeance, he glided from tht '.°
lodge. d

In a moment he had summoned all the nrin
cipal warriors of his tribe to the council-house,
where he at once made known the deception; 1'
that they had been the victims of through the} 5
iLuslzrumentality of the cunning Spirit of the? E

a e. .‘

An indignant yell followed the revelation. _, 5‘

The Council Lodge was at once removed from? '1
around the majestic oak, and then with their}

hatchets and tomahawks a number set to work! 1
to cut into the tree. It required but a feW;
minutes’ work to cut into the hollow. The shell%
was not more than three inches thick and they‘ 1

found it punctured with innnmerahle small.l
holes that had not been perceptible in the rough I
bark on the outside. They had been made with'; '
the point of a sharp knife to admit the passage? 1
of sound. ’

Before the tree had been half out down, a 1097
mm! sounded through the village from lip to lip
and from lodge to lodge. .

The old oak was immediately deserted, and th
warriors all hastened away to the point of com
motion, which was around the lodge in which?f
Town Vanslow had been confined. ‘

The old chief pushed his 'way through the
wrangling crowd, and, as he approached the.
Prison Lodge, a cry of despair burst from his
bloodless lips.

Before him upon the ground lay Wolf-Head— i
dead, and not only bearing the totem of ~ the
Spirit of the Lake but scalped and otherwise
mutilated. 4

The a? chief entered the Prison Lodge from:
whence olf-Head had been dragged a moment‘
before by the savages that had iscovered hlfi'

M as.“

yo ‘
The white captive was gone. and before the
chief’s eyes yawned the dark hole in the ground:
through which the terrible enemy had made ital.
entrance into the very heart of the encampa‘s
ment. advancing the chief dropped atorch into‘
the hole. Six feet below it struck the bottom of
an underground passage. Not three feet inter

s I

 

 

 

i

Bald Head. the Double Dodger.

425

 

r gavi Vened between the top of the passage and the
voice ground outside. A ile of fresh dirt was lying
'ou’v Where the torch fel , and in it were imprinted
most Elle tracks of the cunning spirit and the escaped

u‘l‘lwho will follow the aged chief to explom
tit, 34 the hiding-place of the spirit?” asked Eidominu.
strucé dotah, turnin to his warriors.

l on:
thd

w A score of t am at 'once signified their willing.
- 11655 to accom ny him. _

gitu- Wellermedljaand carrying torches, the aged
hm, chief and his warriors dropped themselves down
jsb Ainto the passage, which quicklyo ned intoa
Yo; f-great underground room, or, rat er, series of
)llovi rooms. '

' - moment they stood huddled together,
[0:13 31.011333; their torches above their heads and gaz-
Sido . ingxaround them. .
umerous passages led away in different
, 1,,- directions from where they stood. The place
‘j’eo seemed a. succession of subterranean vaults,
wa which, up to that hour, had been unknown to
the) the savages. ‘ ,
mm: After a short consultation, the party moved
th, ion, seeming like so many grim specters in the
dim light of their torches.
)rin Eagerly and close! they searched for the
,use, terrible Spirit of the ke, but they could find
“on. no trace of him, with the exception of the rude
the; fairway that he had made, by means of which
the; 6 had reached the hollow of the Spirit Oak.
1! Many and curious were the quaint articles the
savages found, but they were too untutored to

 

mm? realize that they were the relics of that pre-
heir‘ historic race, the anoient Mound-builders,_whose
,orkg, hidden vaults have been found to be quitenu-
few; merous in this portion of the North-west, since
he" railroad and mining enterprise has led to
be general excavation of roads and shafts. _
“j; ‘ In a few minutes Sidommadotsh had relin-
Jghi finished his search for the Spirit of the Lake, and
“he, calling an open council of all his warriors, he
age. put a question that was unanimously responded
3 tom the affirmative. h , '11
low, In two suns they were  remove t eir v1 age
up from the haunts of the Spirit of the Lake, to 3.
Mint many miles to the north ward.
th . ,
Em' CHAPTER XVI.

[c ~a ' nor’s STORY.
“Wu. m boy,I supposed, from L0 Sym-

bhe ' n -
‘- . bm’s star t at ou'd one under,. said Van-
g}: ilkOWhtak n'g the young Inan’s hand in his iron-
» ‘ 9 n are.
l-—- . “ No.51 had been simply resoued from 1grown-
he' “‘2 lfiy the S irit of the Lake,” returned oy.t I
ise ' “ 01y 80 sears!” exclaimed the 01d bun (311;,
' “You don’t mean to say that you’ve been in t e
. . ,2 clutches 0’ that critter, do you?”_ a d
n “1110. most assuredly,” replied Roy; anh,
lit: after a“. it's not saying a great deal, for t e
"‘ wonderful sPii‘it of the Lake is nothing but a
b5 man like You and I.” _ _
id; “ A man?" exclaimed Vanslow, in perpleXity.

 YES. a man; but where is Symbrol"

m “The Lord only knows. He escaped from the
3 1‘ d‘ and I met ’im on the shore when he land-

;t‘ 0d- He told me that you'd rolled into the lake

9.1 "It! war drowned; then he turned and tgok. ‘30

‘ hi heels, and thet war the last I see d 0 him.

. I”.

 

 

But, come, lad, let’s hear ’bout the Spirit 0’ the
Lake bein’ a man.”

“ Are we safe hero?” asked Roy.

“Not edzuctly. The reds are on ‘a rampage
to—uight.”

“Then we’d better cross over to the island.
We will be safe there until morning, when we
will start for the settlement, for I expect there
will be a sad time there if Symbro gets a. chance
to magnify his adventure.” 1'

“ And that’s the little Widder Clenham; I
sw’ar,”if she hears that you’re dead it’ll bu’st her
heart.

“ She will be sure to hear it, if Loamiah gets
there, but when she knows all—well, no dif-
ference; let us start for the island in the lake,
and while we are going I will tell you all about
the S irit."

“ ow the deuce are we goin’ to git tharl”

“ The canoe that I came over in lies on the
beach. Come.”

In a few moments they were on their way to
Turtle Island.

“ As to our capture and conve ance to the
island,” began Roy. “ I suppose oamiah told
you all about it, so 1 will omit that and coin-
nience where he must have left off. Well, when
I unfortunately—or, rather, fortunately—rolled
into the lake, the moment I touched the water I
felt myself seized and quickly dragged under the
projecting edge of the island. For an instant I
was submerged in water, then I felt myself lift-
ed up in a pair of strong arms and carrieda
short way through what I knew to be a cavern,
and was placed upon the dry ground where
blinding darkness revniled. ‘Move not from
the. spot if you won d save your life,’ my rescuer
whispered; and then I heard light footsteps
movmg along the passage, and I knew that my
friend was leaving me. Presently I heard a.
plash in the water; then all was silent as the
grave.

“ Anxioust I awaited the retumof him who
had saved me from drowning, to release my
bonds, for they were growing painfully taut
with their wetting. I could hear the water
plashing now and then, and once I heard a deep
groan roll through the cavern, accompanied by
two or three dull blows. Overhead I could bear
the voice of Indians, and an occasional yell, and
then I com rehended that I was in a cavern un-
der Turtle sland, which could be entered on];
by diving under the edge of the projecting cli
or bank.

“I at once realized the startling, and not alto-
gether pleasant fact. that I was in the haunts of
the Spirit of the Lake, but, u n reflection, I
came to the conclusion that the irit meant to
befriend me, although I felt a. litt e ticklish un-
der the circumstances.

“ In about two hours my rescuer return-
ed. The flrst thing he did was to release
me; then he struck a fire. As the light
pierced through the gloom of the cavern
I arose to a sitting posture and gaze
around. he cavern was quite large and
sloped down to the water on. two sides, A pallet
of furs, some cooking utensils, a bow and rifle,
and two tiny and curious-looking canoes consti-
tuted the furniture—if such nrticles might be so
called—of the rocky cave. Before‘ine stood my

  

   

I deliverer who, truly enough, was the Spirit of

Lake. fiis face was concealed in a fur hood,
and he wore buckskin garments—"

I “ But how about his big feet?" questioned Van-
s ow.

” His feet were incased in moccasins and they
were no larger than yours or mine. I saw at a
glance that he was nothing but a mortal man,
but, for some reason or other, he wished to keep
his identity secret for, instead of removing his
hood,,he draw it c oser about his head and face.
He was the first to speak. He asked me how I
liked my situation. I answered him, and then
asked who I had the pleasure of thanking for my
rescue; he answered that I might call him Red
Star. He told 'me, also, that my companion,
meaning Symbro—was safe from the power of
the Indians. But when I spoke about leaving
him, he informed me that I would have to re-
main there two or three days, and that it would
cost me my life to attempt to leave without his
permission. I thought of mother and Florice
and my en agement, but I felt in duty bound to
obey Red tar’s injunction. since I saw that he
meant well by me; and I thank God that I did
remain there, though mother and Florice are no
doubt mourning me as dead.

“ I remained in the cavern until to—night, when
Red Star returned from some scouting expedi-
tion, terribly a itated. He told me that he had
heard you tell ald Head, the hunter, something
that almost paralgzed his limbs."

“ Heard me tell aid Head somethingt’queried
Vanslow.

“ Yes; you were on the Death Channel in a
canoehhe said, when you told Bald Read the
star .

“ don’t remember tellin’ him,” said Vanslow,
reflectively, “ anything but that you war to have
been married to the Widder Clenham last night.”

“ That was it, exactly,” returned Roy.

‘ “ And why should that set him up, I’d like to
know, so I would?” .

“ Because. he is Arthur Olenham, the husband
of F lom'ce I”

“ What? Red Star, the Spirit 0’ the Lake—”

“ Yes, Florice’s husband,” interrupted Roy.

“Impossible! The skeleton we found back 0’
the clearing.”

“ Not at all. The skeleton we found at the
back of the clearing in the woods was that of an
Indian that Clenham had killed with the ax that
lay near, but he was finall overpowered by the
Indians, beat down and 1e t for dead. When he
returned to consciousness. he hastened across the
clearing to the cabin to find it vacant. Florice
was gone, and seeing a pool of blood 11 n the
floor, he supposed that she had been killed or
taken captive; and swearing a terrible venge-
ance upon the Indians, he turned and left the
cabin, his heart bursting with agon for his
wife. He has never been near the ea in since.
After considerable searchin he found that she
was not a prisoner among t e Indians, and sup-
ggsing her dead, he gave up the search. Nothing

d he now to live for but vengeance upon the
despoilers of his happy home, and so he set about
the Work with a vim that threatened the anni-
hilation of the whole nation. And fortune
seemed to favor him. One day while upon Tur-

_ tle Island he discovered that it contained a cav-

f’ ,, "

v’

 

Bald Head, the Double Dodger.

ern extending from one side of the island to the
other. The water just hid the mouth of it, and
by diving under you arose in the cavern, which
sloped upward, high and dry from the lake’s
level. Overhead he found that there was an-
other opening, by means of which the cavern
could be entered from the island‘s surface, but

this entrance he stopped with a large stone, and'

covering it over with dirt, allowed the grass to
grow upon it so as to conceal every trace from
the most observing eye of their being an en-
trance there. There were numerous crevices
through which the air could enter and smoke
gass’ont when he found it necessary to have a

re.

“ But how about his ’tarnal big feet, an’ t.
walkin’ on the water?” asked Town, impatiently

“ Be patient and I’ll come to that,” said Roy.
“ Shortly after he discovered the island cave, he
also discovered another one, or rather a dozen of
them, directly under the Indian village, the
main entrance being concealed by the falls of the
creek. In this great cavern Clenham founda
number of human skeletons, that crumbled to
dust at a single touch. These, with the many
curious articles that he found, convinced him

that the cavern was the handiwork of the An- ,

cient Mound-builders.

Among the articles that were found was a
stone hatchet made in such a shape that its im-
pression resembled a star with five poin's. This
he chose as his totem, and how well he has
used it, you know yourself. He also found two
peculiarly curious tiny cedar-wood canoas.

They were in good preservation and light,
almost as a feather. though they may have been
centuries old. At first, Clenham was at a loss to
know what use they could possibly be, but. on
seeing the shape of a human foot traced in the
bottom of each one, an idea struck him quite
forcibly. They had been intended. no doubt,
for navigation, the navigator standing erect
with each foot in one of the canoes, and then
pro lling them forward with the motion of the
lim 5, like one would move upon skates.

With but little hopes of success. Clenham took
tlggli‘tttle concelil-nstof the Ilakeiland at oncebset
a u trying t em orw at e supposedt ey
were intended. He found that one of them
alone would hear his entire weight without sink-
ing, but in placing a foot in each one. he ascer-
tained they were easily propelled upon the prin-
ciple inst mentioned. hese marine shoes—for
such Clenham called them—were so constructed
that. in moving one forward, the other could
not recoil, and with much practice. and at the
risk of innumerable duckings, he finally became
so skilled in their use, that he found no difficulty
in navigating the waters at pleasure. Such a
feat I would have looked upon as preposterous
had I not witnessed it With my own e es. There
is something wonderful—a deep, un athomable
secretin the construction of those marine shoes,
that has been buried with their ancient con-
structors, for there are .many curious things
about them. However, that is the mystery of
the Spirit of the Lake.”

“But how ’bout the wings 0’ fire we see’d
t’other night?" asked Vanslow.

“They were simply flrebrands attached to
each shoulder, to lend additional terror and mys-

’vr.

¢

"ts-m '0: no»

 

   

 saw.

 

 

 

a (1’ w

 

 

 

 

 

 r], .

  

Bald Head, the Double Dodger. 2"

 

tery to his appearance, for, as Clenham often
mingled with the white hunters that frequented
the vicinity of the lake, he learned from them
the furore and excitement that Red Star had
created.” ‘

“ But, how’s it come that he didn’t know his
wife war livin’, afore be overhearn me tell Bald
Head ’bout you gwine to marry beri”

“ Because he had never been to Pleasant
Prairie since she was found, and he had deter—
mined never to mingle in civilized society again,
for, since be supposed 1115 wife was dead, he
could never bear to look upon the happiness of
others without rcnding his heart with sorrow,
and even remorse, for bringing his auch wife
amid the dangers of the wilderness to be sacri-
ficed to barbarian hands.”

“ Wal, wul, it beats n11 natur’l” exclaimed
Vanslow, with a vigorous stroke at the paddle;
“ but, I tell ye, boy. it’sa diskivery thet s goin’
to play the dev1l with yer heart affairs at the
settlement.”

“ N at at all, Town,” returned the young man,
joyfully, thankfully.

“ Eh? how‘s tbet?" questioned Town, smiling.

“I respect—yes, I love Florice as a sister, but
no more. I was yielding to my mother’s wish
in engaging to marry her. And, as for Florice,
I understand woniankind sufficient to know
when they love with that warm, h ly and soul-
absorbing love that every wife slou d possess for
her husband. But that love Florice does not

ssess for me. Hers is a heart that can have

' at one passionate love, and that love went out
for Arthur Cleuham, her husband. She no doubt
loved me as a. brother, and had offered to marry
me for the sake of a home, for she was too proud
in spirit to return to her father whose coldness
had sent her away. But, thniik God, this time-
ly intervention will make things as they should
be; and my heart leaps with joy to know what
happiness awaits Arthur Clenham and his angel
wife Florice.”

“ But whereis he now i” asked Vanslow.

“He went "to the Indian village on various
missions. One was to release on: the other
was to slay Wolf-Head, the ba f-breed, whom
Florice told me had struck her down in the
cabin; and the other was to inform the old chief
of the deception be had been playing upon them

‘by means of a hollow oak tree. He may

not be back to the island to-night, and in
case he is not, we are not to wait for him, but
start on our return to the settlement to-morrow
morning by way of the old Sioux trail, and be
will overtake us before we reach there. But
what became of your friend, Bald Head?”
. “Wal. we got as arated up Death Channel,
and that’s the last seed 0’ him; but, darn his
bald'pate, if 1 ever an him ag'in I’ll put a bul-
let through it,” replied Vanslow. vehemently.

“Why—why. Town, what’s up between you
and Bald Head?” asked Roy, with much appar-
ent surprise. _ V .

“ Enuff to warrant him the loss 0’ his skulp, if
he bed one, for, atween you an’ me, he’s in
league with the Ingins; in plainer words, has a
traitor.”

Roy smiled, but he made nb response. for at
this moment the prov of the canoe touched

urtleIsland.

 

The two landed, and having made fast their
canoe, turned and advanced to the center of the
island.

“ As Arthur Clenham proposes to quit the
lake and Turtle Island tomorrow,” said Roy,
“ he gave me permission to open the entrance to
the cavern from the to here. And as I wish
you to we the interior 0 the place, I will open
it, and that will save us diving in at the side en-
trance uiic‘ getting wet.”

Roy removed a large rock from over the en-
trancre in a moment more our friends had
dropped themselves down into the underground
chamber.

And right here let me explain to the reader
how the Spirit of. the Lake—0r Arthur Clenham
-—bad slain War Eagle, and also the cause of the
stubbornness and retrograde movement of the
Indians‘ canoe the night on which they visited
Turtle Island. '

While the savages were engaged in searchin
for Roy, when he had rolled into the lake, Re
Star had emerged from his retrcut on the opp0<
site side of the island, and, crawling along in the
shadow of the bushes to where Lonmiah S mbro
lay, he cut his bonds and bade him flee. t was
the water dripping from his clothes that had
caught the ear of the captive as he lay bound
upon the ground.

Symbro free, Clenham crept back and entered
the mouth of the cavern.

Between the top of the cavern and the surface
of the lake was an, opening of about ten inches,
but it was hidden from the eye of the casual ob«
server by the projecting ledge or bank, and by
this means Clenham could enter the surface of
the water. As before stated, the island was
cone-shaped, quite high in the center, and from
the surface of the water the cavern sloped up-
ward parallel with the cxterior of the island.
Consequently, the water came into the mouth of
the cave but a few feet.

Provided with his stone hatchet and a toma-
bawk, and some buckskin strips niadointoa long
rope, Clenham took his station at the mouth of
the cavern on the insxde to await further action
of the red-skins.

A savage yell soon told him that Symbro’s
escape ha been discovered, and, understanding
the Sioux dialect, he soon learned from their
boisterous conversation that they were going to
pursue the fugitive, who was not entirely beyond
their reach. The concealed Red Star soon heard
them getting into their canoe, which happened
to la alongside of the opening, where he was
listen ng. in water up to his neck, and reaching
out his hands, he threw his rope thong over the
sharp prow of the canoe, and, bracing himself,
prevented it from stirring, and when War
Eagle s rung out into the water to ascsrtain the
cause, 1; e white avenger seized him by the feet,
and. dragging him under the water into the
cavern. drove his knife into his breast, struck
him a blow on the face with his stone hatchet,
then pushed him out lifeless from the cavern,

Again seizing the buckskin rope. he Waited
until it had been stretched taut by the canoe
leaving with the six warriors; then, with all his
power, he draw it suddenly_ back against the
island with such force that its occupants were
pitched out into the water. Failing to seize one

\ 

or- __,- "

 

£8 Bald Head, the Double Dodger.

 

of the warriors, he did not re at the trick, and
allowed the canoe to leave. at no sooner was
Star-in-the-Night left alone with the body of
War Eagle than he crept out from the cavern
and slew the young chief, stamped him with his
totem, and placed the body by that of War
Eagle. Red Star, or Arthur Clenham felt that
his vengeance was sweet, for both War Eagle
and Star-in-the-Night were of the band that had
beat him down and left him for dead three years
before. It was his object to slay War Eagle
when he proposed to Sidominadotah, through
the willow oak, for the young chief and five
warriors to lie in ambush for the Spirit of the
Lake; and how well his plans all worked has
been shown. _
CHAPTER XVII.
A HAPPY REUNION.

DEEP was the sorrow throughout Pleasant
Prairie when the news of Roy St. Claire’s death,
as reported by Symbro, was known. But, wild
was the joy, when, on the day following the
night of the events narrated in the raced-
ing chapter, Roy and Town Vanslow ma e their
ap arance in the settlement!

he sudden transition from sorrow to joy in
the mother’s heart was felt throughout the settle-
ment like an electric shock. The women wept
and the men shouted with joy and thanks as
they all gathered around the young settler to
hear the story of his wonderful escape from
e "h

In as few words as possible, Roy related his
advonture with the Spirit of the Lake, though
he said nothing to them of who the spirit was,
but simply told them that he was a man and not
a spirit.

After the excitement of the meeting was over,
and the settlers had all returned to their respec-
tive homes, Roy found himself alone with his
mother and Florice Clenham.

“ 0h, Roy 1” said the mother, joyfully, “ I have
suffered so at heart since Loamiah brought the
news that you were dead, that I can scarcely be-
lieve my senses.”

“ In what respect. mother?” asked Roy.

f‘ That you are before me-alive—well, and

to. ,

“ Well, it is the case, mother,” returned Roy.
and then turning to Florice he asked: “ How did
the weddin -part go off. Florice'l”

“Like a unera , dear Roy,” returned Florice,
blushing. “ The guests had come, and we were
waiting your return, when Loamiah Symbro
came in and said that you had been drowned.”

Rov smiled, much to the surprise of his mother
and Florice.

“Well,” said the widow, “you have only to
set another day for the wedding, Florice.”

“ Never! never, mother!” exclaimed Roy.

“ My son, what do you mean?”

“ I will tell you, mother," said the young man,
beginning to break the news of Arthur Clenhnm
being alive gently, to Florice and his mother,
“since God in His good providence has seen fit
to prevent our marriage, it can not he consum-
mated in the face of the barrier which I know to
exisgk" ' I l n d

“ V son, you are speaking strange y, sai
Mrs. St. Claire.

 

“ But truthfully mother.”

“ Roy, why do you speak thus?" asked Florice,
with a slight quiver in her voice.

“ Florice, I know you do not love me as does
Nellie Whitney, and I am certain that my love
for you is not such love as I hold for Nellie;
besides,we could never marry now.”

“Now?” gasped Florice, her face as pale as
death; “ what do you mean, Roy, by new?”

“ Since I left you, I have learned that Arthur
Clenham still lives."

“ Oh, God! My Arthur! my darling husband
alive? Roy, are you sure—sure?” the woman
cried frantically.

“Yes, Florice; Arthur, your husband, lives.
It was he who saved me from drowning in the
lake. I'have talked with him—he and the Spirit
of the Lake are one and the same. He supposed
you were dead until I told him all. The skele—
ton that you supposed was his was that of an In-
dian that he had slain with his ax. But he was
beat down—and—and left for dead by the In-
dians. Recovering his senses, however, he crawl-
ed to the cabin to find you gone, and, supposing
you dead or captive, he set out in search of you,
but he found no trace of you and gave you up as
lost. He could never hear to return to the cabin
where he had been so happy, and, as an avenger,
he became the Spirit of the Lake —”

Florice heard no more, but sunk unconscious
at Roy's feet. The revelation had been too much
for her overstrained nerves and excited mind.

Roy and his mother lifted the inanimate
form and placed it upon the bed; then leaving
the old lady to bring her back to consciousneu
again, Roy left the cabin and bent his footsteps
in the direction of Nellie Whitney’s house.

When he reached the house he was met at
the door by Nellie, who ushered him into the
room. She was alone, and thou‘gh her eyes
were red with recent weeping with joy at Roy’s
return, her face wore a pleasant smile.

“ I suppose, Roy,” she said, after awhile,
“you have come to invite me to your wedding
again.”

“ No Nellie; I have come to ask you to be
m wife,” he returned.

ellie started. Her heart seemed rising in
her throat, and her lip curled slightly with
scorn. ‘

“ Do not doubt my sincerity, Nellie,” Roy
continued, seeing her surprise and‘ rising emo-
tions. “1 know I take you by surprise, but
be patientone moment and I will tell you all.”

It is not necessary to record all that Roy had
to tell, as the reader can doubtless divine his in-
tentions from what has passed, but sufiice to
say that, when he left Arthur Whitney’s house,
his face woie an unusual glow of happiness.

As he drew near his own home, he met Town
Vanslow, who had apprdached him with no lit-
tle excitement depicted u n his countenance;
but leaving them for awhi e, let us go back once
more to Storm Lake.

Town Vanslow and Roy had left the lake that
morning before it was fairly day, and, scarcely
had they quitted the island upon one side when
til: Spirit of the Lake approached it on the
ot or.

Red Star-saw our two friends leave for the

settlement, yet did not hail them, but quietly

 

    
 

A». n luau—‘0‘...

 

 

Bald Head, the Double Dodger.

 

entered the cavern through the entrance on the

to .

g‘he sun was an hour high when he appeared
again. A blanket was thrown around his shoul-
derS' his face was concealed in the fur hood,
and his feet were strapped in his marine shoes.

In a few minutes he was moving over the
water with great rapidity toward the western
shore. It required but a few moments to reach
the bank, and passing from view beneath some
low-drooping wi110ws, the Spirit of the Lake re-
moved the tiny canoes from his feet, and then,
moving a short ways into the forest, be con—
cealed them in a hollow log. At this juncture
his ears caught the sound of pattering feet, and
on making a hast survey of the situation, he
actually discover a dozen red-skins between
him and the lake, rushing toward him with
their dusky features contorted with diabolical
triumph.

Not a moment was to be lost on the part of
Red Star, or Arthur Clenham. He was cut oil?
from the lake, and his only resort was to take
tothe wood and trust to his speed, which had
saved him on similar occasions.

Turning, he darted away, his enemies yelling
at his heels.

It was a race of fearful interest to both pur-
sued and pursuers. Hope and joy seemed to

've additional strength and speed to the
armor, while a save 9 thirst for blood and ven-
geance urged on the atter.

Being well acquainted with the forest, Arthur
Clenham kept through the thicker parts in hopes
of eluding his pursuers. He had thrown aside
his blanket in order to facilitate his movements,
which not revealed his form liabited in a com-
mon hunter’s garb made of buckskin. _He still
retained his fur hood upon his head, which in a

feat measure protected his face from being
facerated by the undergrowth through which
he at times was compelled to make his way.

Every attempt on the part of the fugitive to
elude his pursuers proved a failure, and, after
something like an hour’s running he discovered
to his terror, that the savages were gaining
upon him. _

This discovery had a tendencyjzo weaken in-
stead of strengthening the fugitive’s efforts,
but, with a firm resolve, he determined. to keep
on until the last breath was gone.

Suddenly a dense clump of undergrowthof
considerable area appeared before him, and With
renewed efforts he plunged into _lLS shadowy
depths. The moment he entered it he became
lost to his pursuers’ gaze, but being so close-in
the rear, the excited. over—confident red-skins
had no thoughts of his eluding them. In this

' they were disappointed, for they had gone but a
short ways in the thicket when they discovered
that their enemy had thrown them off the trail.

Seattering out in an instant, they began
thrashing about through the thicket like so
many fox-hounds hunting the trail of the cun-
ning fox.

Severn] moments had been thus spent when a
low, savage wail burst from the_lips of one of
the party, and in a moment his companions
rushed to where he was standing in the center of
the thicket. .

The cause of his cry was at once made meni-

,_...nn4__.ihil .. ..i  

 

fest, in the form of a white man that lay
stretched before them upon the ground, appar-
ently lifeless. He was lying upon his face. and
to the surprise of the savages, he was scalped!
80 recently did the bloody deed seem to have
been committed that the blood upon the crown
had not yet congealed, and drops of the crimson
tide were dropping on the ground from the
wound.

One of the savages through curiosity rolled
the body, which, though still warm, was appar-
ently stiff, oven-u n the back. As the savages
caught sight of his face, a low cry escaped their
lips, for, upon the forehead of the man was
emblazoned the red star of the Spirit of the
Lake!

This startling discovery called to the minds of
the savages the terrible enemy of whom they
were in pursuit, and, leaving the prostrate form
——the supposed victim of the Spirit—they dashed
away through the thicket in search of it.

Scarcer had the sound of their foot-falls died
away in the distance when the supposed defunct
white man sprung to his feet, and, turning in
the direction the savages had gone, his face
nglow with triumph, he placed his thumb upon
his nose, and twirling his fingers, exclaimed:

" Go it, you red fiends! and when you get Red
Star, the Spirit of the Lake, you will certainly
know it.”

As he concluded his remarks, he turned and
moved away toward the south.

The hero of this novel escape was the hero of
our story, Bald Head the hunter. A bleeding
finger showed from whence the blood had come
that crimsoned his bald crown, and that had
traced the ominous red star upon his brow.

Town Vanslow had just come in from the
woods when he approached Roy so excitedly.

“ What’s up, own? You seem excited,”
asked Roy. _

“ Wal, all’s not right, friend Roy, for I see‘d
that ’tarnal Bald Head comin’ this-a-way, and
I‘ve every reason to b’lieve him in league with
the Ingins, so I have.”

“ I ope you are mistaken, Town,” returned

R0 .

II “hope so, too,'for I alers considered Bald
Head my best friend, though he alers acted
curious.” ,

“ In what respect, Town ?”

f‘ ’Ca'se be war alers hangin’ high the red-
skins, and then he’d alers manage to be alone, or
git way from a feller when he’d meet him."

" Did you ever think that Bald Head might be
the S irit of the Lake?” asked Roy.

“ i cissors, no 1" returned the old hunter;
“ sich a thing’s impossible."

“And why so?"

“ ’Ca’se Pd ’9) known it store this time.”

_“ That goes to show how artful has been the
disguise of the Spirit of the Lake, or else how
easily you have been deceived, for Red Star, the
Spiritof the Lake, is none other than Bald Head,
the hunter." 1

“ ’Tarnal deception I” exclaimed .Vanslow;
“ why the deuce haven’t ye told me 0‘ this
More?”

“ I wanted to surprise you after you had come \

 

   

   
  
  

   

\

30

Bald Head, the Double Dodger.

  

 

to the settled conclusion that Bald Head was a
traitor,” returned Roy, with a. smile.

“ Wal, I give under that l’m heat; but, it did
look curious the way he acted. Arter all, it
worked In salvation from Ingin torture. Ha!
ha! ha! own Vanslow, fur onc’t you’ve hed
the ha’r pulled over your eyes, quite han’-
somely." .

[With this revelation it will be easily seen how
the Spirit of the Lake eluded the red—skins in
the forest. Being closely pressed, he pulled ofl?
his fur hood and cast it up amongwtbe branches
of a tree. This done, he drew his knife and cut
one of his fingers slightly, and allowed it to bleed
upon the top of his head, thus giving it the ap-
pearance of having been recently scalped. He
next traced a crimson star upon his forehead
and then threw himself upon the ground, feign-
ing d ath. How well the during stratagem
worke , the reader has already seen; though, in
all probability had the savages not been so wild-
ly excited in pursuit of the Spirit of the Lake,
they would have detected the cunning ruse.
However, it is quite likely that they mistrusted
something of the kind, when on returning to the
thicket they found the body gone, and the hood
of the Spirit lying upon the ground, it having
been dislodged from the tree by the wind.)

“That’s ver true, Town,” Roy replied, “but
there comes aid Head, or Arthur Clenham,
now.

Sure enough, the hunter had entered the stock-
ade, and was approaching Roy and his compan.
10!].

“Don’t say enny thing ’bout my suspicion 0’
him,” Vanslow whispered, in no little regret;
then he said aloud, turning to Bald Head:

“ Hallo! right glad am I to see ye, fr’en’ Bald
Head, 11 in these diggin’s.”

Bald and, or Arthur Clenham, as we will

. know him hereafter, made no reply to his friend’s

greeting. but, with u face pale as death, be ap—
proached young St. Claire, and in a tremulous
tone. scarcely above a. whisper, he asked:

“ Where is she, Roy?”

“Come with me, Clenham,” said Roy, leading
the way toward the cabin.

At the door Arthur Clenham aused and
brushed a tear from his scarred chee s, and oy
noticed that his frame was trembling viole ly.

Together they entered the cabin, and simultan-
eously a cry burst from Florice’s lips as she was
clasped to the breast of her husband.

 

This reunion of husband and wife was soon
followed by the marriage of Roy and Nellie,
and for several days all was joy at Pleasant
Prairie.’ .Nor did they, in their joy, forget from
“whenCe ‘all blessings flow,” and on several
occasions did the settlers congregate at the house
of Parson Briggs for prayer.

The widow St. Claire was so delighted with‘
* her daughter-in-law, that when Parson

Bri s
proposed that they should join'hearts and hangdg,
she gave a firm “ No;” she could never be sep—
arated from the fireside 0: her dear children, and
the person sighed—chafed his bald crown and
turned awn , dejected at being rejected.

Arthur lien

. IV.—Ethan Allen. v

 

ham and his wife took up their

residence at Pleasant Prairie, and were soon
numbered among the prosperous ones of the
settlement.

In company with Town Vanslow and Roy,
Clenham went up to Storm Lake one day on a
hunting excursion, and resolved to show his
friends how easily he had “done ” the Spirit, but,
to his surprise, on going to look for his marine
shoes where he had concealed them, he found
them gone. The Indians had no doubt seen him
conceal them on the morning of his final depar-
ture from the lake, and had destroyed them.

Town Vanslow, though quite old, still resides
up somewhere about the lakes of northern Iowa,
and often goes to See Bald Head. as he ersists
in calling Arthur Clenhnm, and Roy St Claire.

Loamiah Symbro did return to Sodom, and

, that is the last account We have of him.

THE END.

 

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1 Delelrg-nter, the Boy Scout oi the Great North Wuoda. By
me.

00 0

D Bull'an Bill, from Bo hood toManhood. By Col. P. lngnham.

8 Kit Carl II King of .uidea. Bv Albert W. Aiken.

4 Gordon lllle, the Boy-interpreter oi'tha Pawnua. By Major

H. B. Stoddnrd. '

5 Bruin Aduma, Old Griuly’l Bo Pard. By Col. P. Ingrnham

6 Deadwood Dick an a Boy. y Edward in Vi healer

7 Wild llill. the Piaml Prime. By Col. Prentiu lugrahaxn.

8 The Prairie Ranch. By Jourh IL Badgerl Jr.

9 Roving Joe: The Hiatory oia ‘ Bord -r Boy. ’ By A. H. Po“,
10 Texan Jack. the Muatung King. By Col. Prenti-a lnmham.
11 Charley Skylark. A Story of School-day Scrapea and College

Capara. By Mujor H. B. Stoddard.
12 Maripoaa Mari-h. By Joaeph E. Badger, Jr.
13 Roving Ben. By John J. Manhall. _ .
14 8 ring Steel, King of the Built. By J. 11.. Badger, Jr.
16 While-Awake George, the Bo Pioneer. By Ed. Willett.
16 The no Win-r . BV Burry inggold.
17 Peter epperzrau, the Greenhorn {rum Gotham. By Noah

Nu .

15 Adrift on the Prairie. and Amateur Huntera on the
Bulian Ran e. By Oll Conniel.

19 The Fortune iunter; or, Roving Joe uMluar, Cowboy,
Trapper nnd Hunter. By A. H. Poll.

80 TM per Tom, the Wood imp. By T. C. Harbaugh.

91 1'91 ow hair, the Boy Chlui oi' tne Pawneea. By Colonel
Prunin- ingmhnm.

£2 The Snow Trail. By T. C. Hnrhaugh.

88 old G-rilxl Adama, the Bear Tamer. By Dr. Frank Powall.

84 Woot a an Wutera. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

25 A Ruling Etonei incident: in the Career on Sen and Land
of Col. Prentile Inzrnhum. By Wm. R. Eyetcr.

28 Red River Rovera. By C. Dunning Clark.

87 Plaza an‘l’litlnr or, \ -ild Adventures of“Buckakin Sam.”

a). Sam. S. Hall.) By Col. P. Ingraham.

28 The Sword Prince. The Romantic Life of Col. Monetary.
By Ca t. Frederick Whittaker.

’9 Snow- hoe T ‘ By T. C. Harbaugh.

80 Paul de Lacy, the French Bea-t Charmer. By C. D. Clark.

81 Round the Camp Fire. Bv Joaeph E. Bad or, Jr.

82 White Beaver, the lndian Medicine Chin . Col. Puntial

l“er am.

88 The Boy Cruaader. By C: t. Frail. Whittaker.

84 The Chaee'oi' the Great hite Stag, and, Camp and
Canoe. By C. Dunning Clnrk.

85 old Tar Knuckle Ami Hil Buy Chuina. By R. Starbuck.

88 The Dashing Dragoon; or. 'l'na Story of Gen. George A.

 

Cuatrr. By mint. Fre Whittaker.
B .‘ixht-llewk George. By Col. Prentin lngrahan =
88 ‘he Boy Exiles of Siberia. By T. C. Hub-nigh.
89 The Young Beer Hunters. By Morris ltedwlng.
40 Smart Sim. the Lnd with n Level Head. By Edward Willotl.

41 The Settler’a Son. By Edward S. Ellla.
nlt Fer ulon’n Crulae. By C. Dunning Clark.

43 Rifle and evolver. By Ca t. Fred. Whittaker.

44 The at oy Whalera. v T. C. Harbnngh.

45 Broneo Billy, the Saddle Prinu. B Col. P. inn-diam.

46 Rick, the Stowaway. By Charle- iorria.

47 The gigogrddo I’loya; or, Liia on an indigo Plantation. By
an . irer r.

48 The pPampan lunternl or, New York Boy: in Bum“

Ayrol. v T. C. Harbanah. ,

49 The A venturoua Life of Nehraaka Charlie. By
Col. Prantlu Ingra tun.

fio'lack llarra’and T m, the Thm Champion Brothora. By
Capt. Fred. hittnhar.

51 The Youn Land-Luhher. By C. Dunning Clark.

53 The Boy etectlvea. By '1‘. C. Harbnug .

58 Honest hltlurry; or, The Country Boy Adrift in the City. By

urlu on a.
54 Cglii‘ornla Joe, the Myeterioua Plain-man. By Col. Prenti-

inn-thorn.
55 T 1. ti eFloeter. B Edward Willett.
50 TlI’eTSr:::: Ilalnteru or, Winter in the Wooda. By Bury

‘ do Format.
5? llarr donors, the Sailor Bo Maziclnn. By S. W. Pear...

. 58 Ta: rventuroua Life 0 Captain Jack. the Bord"
V

_ . 3/ Col. Pnntlu lugraham.

59 Lame Tim. the Mule Boy on)": Minot. By Charlea Morrla.

00 The Youn; Trnil Hunter" or, New York Boy- in Grinly
Land. By . C. Huhnu h.

61 The Ti er liunte or, The Colorado Boya in Eleph-nt
hand. my Joseph E. Badger. r.

60 Doctor Carver. the “Evil Spirit" of the Plains. By Col.
Proud" lngral‘mm. ’

68 Black Horse Bill the Bandit Wrecker. By Roger Starbuck.

04 You Dick Tnllmti or, A Boy: Ram and Tumble Fight
from ew York to California. By A. W. Aiken.

65 The Boy Film; or, The inland Wraclrer. By Col. P. lngrnham.

CO The Donal-t Rave" or, Stowaway Dick Among the Araha.

' By Charla Merrie.
0’! Texas Charlie, the Boy Bangor. By Col. Prentiu lngvnham.

08 Little lulu or, The Younanannten. Hy Captain “ Bruin "

 

 

69 The Youn Nihiliat; or, A YankeeBoy Among the Ruulnnl.
7o PBy Chfillea Gerri-l;
on e ow 0 or. The Your: M r h ' .
Mn’or n. B. Stoddar ,‘Ex-Seout. ' n ‘ ‘n ' Rm By
71 Ru Rohnart and Ilia Bear.
3": Elke lyeo Ele hunt. Ilily B
e uun ooae- untern. y William ll. Mannln ..
74 The lloy ‘oral-Flahern. By R0 or Stnrhuelr. K
75 lklevolhver Bllly, tha Boy ltnugur oi exal. ’ By Col. Fruitin-
nxru am.
76 The Condor Killera. By T. C. Hnrhnugh.
7'? Lud Lionheeltly the YoungTiger Fighter. By Roger Slarhuck.
Till Flathont Fred. B Edward Will‘s".
g: ll:an file ll:untol'l.| by Ca xtunin FiIVigilttaker.
on no en.t e ug eoii e necudu. B Rstnrbue
in The Kit arnon Club. By '1‘. c. Harhaugh. y I"
82 Little Buck the Buy Guide. By Burrv Riu gold.
l’on y Bah, the Reckleu Rider. By Col. P. rum-ham.
84 Cup:.uin Fly-b -ng1ht. Ev Jouph E. Badger, Jr.
85 i‘ m “M Ralp the con: Explorer. By C. D. Clark.
Bil I. it e llnn Roe "a. By Morrla Redwlnfi
87 ’l‘he‘Menu’fer-le Huntera. By Mnj. . Grenville.
88 TitleEBoy rampa; or, Lli'a Among the Glpaiea. By J. M.
’ 0 Infill.
89 ’llongahore Lila. By C. D. Clark.
90 Roving Rifle, (lulter’a Little Scout. By T. C. Harhnngh.
9] Oregon Josh, the Wizard liitln. By Roger Shtrbuck.
92 Hurricane Kit. By A. F. Holt. .
93 Jumping Jake, the Colorndo Circu- Buy. By B. Buinhridgo.
94 Sum Spence, the Broudlmrn Buy. By ltd. Willett.
95 Moscow to Filtering or,A Yankea Boy to the Reacue By
Churlel Merrie.
6 Fightin? Fred. By T. C. Harbuu h.
7 Cruise 0 the Flyawuy. By C. unninz Clark.
H The I!on Vi It in. H. B. Stoddm d.
l) The W ite ‘lgera. Bv ‘a t. Churlea Howard.
00 The snow-Shoe Trail. y St. Gnome Rathbone-
01 Mariano, the Ottawa Girl. By Edward S. Ellla.
09 The Flynwuy Afloat. By C. Dunning Clark.
03 Put Mullone ’a Adventures; or, Silver Tongue the Da-
mtuli Queen. y C. L. Edwnrda.
04 The Roy Prue eetor. By Roger Starbuck.
inonee, the nod Witch. By Edwin Emenon.
e Boy Cruiaera. By Edward Willett.
he Border overa. 81y 1. Milton Hofl'man.
anka. the Wolf-Queen. y Cnpt. Howard Lincoln.
ariotiun Jim, the White Mnn’a Friend. By Ed. 5. Elna.
uclry Joe, the Boy Avenger. By J. M. Hoflmnn.
Io Border filmmaker. By Juno- 1.. Bowen.
.ei’t-llunded i’ete. By Jolele  Bridger. Jr.
‘he. River Rules. By Cnpt. J. l“. C. Adama.
lone on the l’luinn.‘ B Edward Willett.
1 Silver llorn, and His Rifle irodauth. B linker Slnrhnek.
116 Expluitn oi‘ Hezekiah Smith, the nckwoodaman. By
Emerwn nn.
1? The Young Muatangorn. By C. Dunnan Clark.
18 Old Tra at or, the Rev llivula. By Burry Ringgald. '
19 Center hot. the White Crnw. By T. C. Harbough.
30 A Hot Trail. By Charlea Merrie.
931 Hunter Pard Ben. By Ron»! Starbuck-
22 The Eauuimaux’ Queen. By G. Waldo Browne.
Bil Tim, the Boy Acrobat. B Chariea Morria.
24 neon Beagle. the Bar. er Girl. By Henry J. ’l'homaa.
25 om Tabor, the Boy Fugitive. Barry Rinxgold.
28 Mink Coat, the Death-Shot. By Jim. E. Badger, Jr.
87 The Deer lhuntera. Bv John J. Munhall.
28 “MU-Cup; or, The N lght-llnwka of tho Fire-Land; By
Capt. Chm. Howard. '
B9 Sliverapuri or, The Mountain Heroine. , By Edwnrd Will.“-
8 Keetaca, (lumen m the Plnlna. By l‘arcy B. St.John.
81 Wintuh. the Child Spy. By George Gleason.
in The Inland Trapper. By Cllnrlel Howard.
The Fore-t Specter. By Edward Willait.
34 Wild Nat. the l‘rooper. By Wm. R. Eyaler.
85 The flilver Bugle. By Lieut. Col. Hnaelton.
36 The Prairie Trapper. By C. Dunning Clark.
37 The Antelope Bo . B Geo. L. Aiken.
8" Long Shot: or. 'l‘ha wnr Guide. By Cnvt. Comatook.
] 89 Colonel Crockett, the Bear King. By (I. E. Luella.
40 0 d Pen, the Mountaineer. Bv Lewia W. Canon.
41 The (limit Hunter: Bv Hurry Hnmni.
4e mink Panther. um HalfBlond. By 1.13:. Budger.
C'araon the Guide. By liiout. J. H. Randolph.
44 Rent t a Ranger. By Edward S. Ellie.
46 llill hnbblnn, Hunter. By Edward Willott.
46 'l he "alt-Breed lilvu .' By Jun. E. Bridger. Jr.
1 4? The naked Avenger. By Col. l‘renti-I lnmblm.
] 48 Nat. the ‘l‘rnpper and lndlnn Fighter. By Paul J. Pmeott.
49 El"; Erik Demon: or, The Giant Broth-n. By T. 0.
ar aux .

By Captain “ Bruin "Adamo.
Capt. Frederivk Whittaker.

 

 

 

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A 0 The Bo Muntnug-IIunn-r.
1 Frank 'ntcn, [he Yulmu 'l'mn u-r.
2 “'lld llnven. the. Scum. Bx HI 4 nonws.
8 llzpl'nx-(Inp; or, Four Tmpnm Amnng thr Simlx‘
I we.
r l The Chnmnlon Toxun Hillier. By Hnrrv St. George.
r5 “HERE Dick's Doom. lly .lm. )1}. lSmigl-r,.)r.
156 Frnn ' Bell, tlu- “Hy Spy. Hy on Comm-:4.
157 Nlek Doyle. 1h.- Huld llnnu-r. By P. H. ‘ru.
15H Kldnnppcd Illuk; or, The Fute nl‘ 1hr Fix-u
h-y Hn-ndcmnn.
59 Smn’n Lqu: Trull. By W. J. Hnmiltnn.
60 Ilnnk ’l‘rlnlct’n Vow. By Hurry Humru.
6| The Mad Skipper. By R. \Inrlmh.
69 TI Trnppnr Klng. By Mnj. Max M nine.
163 film n Kenton, llnnn-r. Bv F n-nmn Rvulumn.
] 6’} The Roy Chlr-f‘; nr, Frnnh linl a (‘,oln}mrl. Bv Oll Coomen.
85 The ’l‘rud r 'I‘rultor. By .1. Slnnlvy Hondrrunn.
‘ Old Jllpo’n (flow. By MN. Ornn '1"st
~ Tl“I Young Truller. llv W, J. linmiltun.
The N ecu-r spy. By Mnj. Lru'i \\'. Unrsnn.
69 Lnnk .ute. the UM Cnlurnlln llnnlur. By E. W. Archer.
’?0 The W hlte “'oll’. By Edward “’illm.
71 The Swamp Guldo. By W. N. Mchil.
72 The Ynnkeo Paddler. By C. llnnmnu Clark.
73 The Hcout and “in: You"): (‘hnnn By ‘nrren St. John.
74 Blueknmlth ’l‘mn’n Mun-k. By m... I). l inrrL.
Tk'l‘he BIu-knklu IHch'. By Hny Hm-nwnml.
76 The flfillntter'n h'urprho. By Mrs. H. .l. Thnnmn.
7'? Four ellnw Sunni. By J. Stun llvndm-mn.
TH 01d Kit and Ilh Corny-“den. lly J. . l-l. lsmlucr, Jr.
79 Unvlc (:‘rrlll’n Dlngulnv. lly “HI’II ll turd.
, M) The Mnrkrd Mlm-r. lly Llrlll. l . Ilnzvlline.
181 The “'lld llllutrcnu. Br Hun. Bruin Adams.
182 The Dwnrt‘ Dot-03‘. By Mam H. llulm.
83 Job Dcun’n Tut-Hon. By ln-m-lulshy Nnrlh.
R4 Yankee Eph’u IDlh-mnm. By .1. R. Worcestm
95 The Wlly “'ltoh’n “’ord. _ Idwln E. Ewing.
86 Frnnk, the F‘urriar. By J Sunllvy Hrndomun.
18’? Diana, the Fair Alonnrni - . Iy Punt. F. Whittaker.
“33 Juck’n Hnure. By Mm. Ann 1" Porter,
8!? an, the Swnnlp St'l'lit. lly \ lllllllillnn.
90 The Dunnhlnu‘ Trooncr. llvriek Dewey.
191 The no ' Brave. By Jnnm. L. Bn-wn.
192 flnndy I “l, of Texas. By Ellwnrd Willem.

By Frederivk Whiltnknr.
lly J. E. Badger, .Ir.

By Paul

By T. Stun‘

198 Hurry “’Inkle’n Lou]: Chum» BF Wm. R. Eyatnr.

the Slnulnw Swnn p ' rxulw. lly l“. Dewey.

195 The hunger By llnrry annrd.

19“ Gymv Mn . um Mountain wnvh. By (I. n. Clnrk.

19’? The Bro-u ed (‘nptnlnI By W. J. ll .ilmn.

9N ("fl croflnflro'u {'rlnln. By "not. (Tlmrlva lluwnrd.

199 Zebra Znok. tln- ‘ n. B W. .I. llnmilrnn.

500 The annelonn Iluntor. By Gnome W. linhinsnn.

H" The Ynnkuo (‘upNu-n. Hy chwmd Wilh-lt.

S 02 Todd)": Lona rull. By Edward S, Ellls.

3:03 "Id Ilnnk, he "or I“. lly Edwnrd W. Aruhnr.

:01 l-‘voouohcnd’n “out . lot. I" Jon. E. limluvr, Jr-

: 05 The Dutchman's "rend. BndnLOhus. llnwnrd.

06 Kn Burt‘s “Ink. My \v. .1. Humillun.

07 Fagin-Eyed 'l‘lm. ‘ . Dunning ('lnrk.

0” The Vllloze Snort. , .lnnn-n L. lhnwn.

09 "lll‘k Hurt'u I’lm-k By Edwnrd Willa.

I0 ’l‘he Tell-Tnlc Ih . By J. thnluy llvndarson.

1| The Boy Surveyo . By W. J. "nmiltun.

I2 Sunken Drover Swim-n. By Smell“ Roblnfl.

Slh‘or PM." Tom. By .lnmna 1.. [hm an.

Nleh‘. [ha Thwativv. By Edwin Enumxnn.

MIIIHIII Rldvr Roy. By Alhrn W. Aiken.

The Du ‘otu Dntohlm I. By Mn'. Mnx Mm'finr.

Yankee Jar-h. llm “mu. By ls. l .Jh-lkmlp. M. D.

New Y r ' Ned In Onllt'ornlu. By W. J. llannlmn.

Rent I! Knto'n Shot. By Edwnrd \Villutt.

'h‘rhvn rnnk’n lllvnl. By Paul J. I’m-Icon.

Doctor ling, Dotuctivr. By Lewis Jny Swift.

Sly Ham‘s nnre. By lmnh Lvurund, M. D.

01d Nunoy’o \Vorll. By Livul. Cal. ’lllll'nhlan

4- Ifintlvle ate. the Nnhnh. By Scott R. Shermmq,

2 l3 \Inht- Inwk “Ill: or, The New York Sportsmen’l Claw.
lh- W. J. Hnmlllnn.

226 The Mainland Mnnlnm By Mnrn O, Rolfe.

22'? Burnt-y’a- Bold Brunh. .By Jlmen

228 The Deadwood Sports. By I.

229 "nun fiehmldt. Jun: 0r, The Di
Hamilton.

230 Lone thr‘n flun- flhnt. By Hnny Hnmml.

231 M ark Morgan-M Monk. Bv (‘an (‘hnrlw Hnwnrd.

232 Billy Broom‘» Fir-t. (‘rulnm Ih' H. Minor Klnpp.

283 0 rl Rifle-filled. By W. .1. Hamilton.

234 0lll _ 0'! Long Trump. My llunry J. Tlmmu.

235 011] Bill flym-‘n Pledge. By Edward WillutL

286 The (Dn-thc-‘VInn 1'0!('(‘”\'('. By Ed. S. Ellls.

28’? The Dolphln’n Young SH Iver. By Roger Smhuck.

838 Ilfllll'fl Boy Pardn. y . x. Luuln .

339 Lee anln’n blsgulue. By Marc 05201“.

240 During Dick’s Race. ,’ By Arthur L. Maseru.

341 Uncle Ephe’l Boys. /By J. Stanley Handgun.

] 94 Greener (Into
beta-live.

3

up

namu—————-‘—
:ata-c:x~1:.a

 

L’snslnz.
d Ynnkru. By W. J.

 

Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents

;
I

242 W‘ycllut 1h Snored. By C'n ut. R. M. llnwlhnme.
243 Flu-Ah-l It. Joe. llv Charles . luluy.
- Bob “n .,r’n Ln-I Leno. By T. Brntun Shields, U. S. A.
2 15 North \Voodn Nut. By “1.1. Homilwn.
2“: The Glrl ('hlel'. lly J. M.Mr>rril _
217 Doorw- IIIcL. 1h» Rnllh-Y. By llnrr Brand.
24" lflook .llnl‘n Doom. By Lieut. (‘nl. ll paltlue.
2-10 )forn‘uu, [INF-1| Hun-r. By Juhn s. \\ nrnrr.
’ Znoh‘n (lhonl. 'l'rnn. lly (leurun Applegntu.
I‘M Bold (Sumo. liv l’nul Biblm
>3. ho Mu ‘n hhot. By Hmrgn Gh-n-nn.
fir ft‘y Cru'._ \‘lfiuk; or, ‘lhe Frenrll Fugitive. By Hurry
nznn .
'I‘hc Flghtlng (bunker. By Edward S. Ellis.
The lhumcr'u h‘lrnt Crlllne. By John 5. Warner.
Boll (wugc‘n Crow. ISanlm Neul.
'ouuuy’n For-t Pom-r. By W. J. Hamilton.
ell'n l’luok. By Cnpl. Chm. Hnwnrd.
y Mount-uh: Burt. By Edwnrd Wilh-tl.
H I lgnn Rnl )h’u Klnk. By Jnnm L. Bowvn.
l-old \umnt )lck. Ry’l‘nm 1’. Morgan
~ Iro’n Blg Bol . By Hnrr Hazard.
Josh Mann-n. Detox-five. y Mary A. Deni-on.
_ I nvlv Jerry, tho (Junker. Bv John Non].
The Skinner‘s Mute. By llnrry Cnn-nd‘mh.
The Glrl (‘owhoy (‘npmlln By .10.. E. Bndzerfir.
Lph, the .“lnllo Spy. v W . ‘ .
“nlph'rn Loni. Trump. By Edwnn
Sol Stock-'- Grud u. “v Edwnrd \K l .
Junk tho Count I utootlvo. By Rug. Smrhnck.
Old Gotllol), Una Jullv Lnndlurd. By llerrlck Johnsmue.
Tho Ho ' Boomer. Bv Huwnrd Kl. Buynwn.
Rod MI '0 :- Rnno. By W. J. llmnlltnn.
Bonny. the Dutch l‘lnnw; w. The Aldzrmnn’s Lmle
Protege-u By [)ncntur l’nulding. U. S. N
(‘onrnd. the 00mm King. By llnrry Mmfl-rt.
Put, the l’lm-l‘v floral-nut lly W. J. Hmn’lton.
duck JoI-dnu‘n ’urd. 15V l V. Victor.
Tom. thr- Ohl Tor. llv Rug» Qturbuck.
Dolly’s "until-Shot. Hy Cnpl. {‘hnrlm Howard.
thcotlvc (h-rnmn Joe. llyllmvnrd .\1. Bo ntnn.
Joe (‘ur-l‘n Double. My .14... . Bnduer, Jr,
Nut Dodge. the l‘r-ldlor. By "HUT .l, Thunmn.
V 1 u... sum-“um” or. Am-m m Brazil. By C. D. Cluk.
lh' Ralph Ringwood.
By T. W. King.
I an» Ir l'eh-wllvr. llv Man O. Rolfe.
“‘0 Mlddlou. lh' Lulnyvltr Lulhrost.
w :- "Ir-h lilnglv. By Ell\\l|rlls.l§1”l.
“ally, the Girl ('llplllhl. ByMnry A. Denlaou.
Don-0th» INoL‘u l'nrd. lly 11. .\l. I nynlnn.
' 'ho M er’ Lont “'nrd. “y (‘. n. Lewis.
BIIIIM- ’r Nul. *\\'. J. Humilmu.
"nrr ‘n Good Forl By Bdwnrd Willut.
'l‘onl hwlh‘u (‘ruluu lh- Juhn 5, Warner.
’ The “'11le of Block llolIo“ Hy N. C. Iron.
' Tom Toltorn. I'm-cliw. Hy U. .Trl \ n
" Suunttor Dh-k‘n (both. By Jon. E. Bmlunr, Jr.
Iron Nerve Dc- nrd. By “SJ. llnndllnn.
299 (‘nut Anny Jm- '. Hv Rum-r Sun-hunk.
300 Kld Keen In New York. By Hnwnr‘ M.Boynton.
301 ’l‘vxun "III. the Rover. By l‘nul Bihbfl.
802 Old John, the Hermit. By “gut-(‘01. Ilnzeltinn.
8m! Ynnku- h'clh‘n Rune. By May. 1-. W. Cur-sun.
IS" I- Tiger "It-L. (lm (‘unnt Find». By Rum-r Sturhuck.
n ’ I’wldlrr l’nul‘n l’nrd. Edunnl Willeu.
30!; I‘ll". Ihe I! v Mnrknlu lly (‘npt.ChM.Hnwnrd.
ISO? “Mllh-lr. U Inn-h “'ug. By George lh-nry Prentice.
'l‘lu- l'mlol l) tlvo. Ily H. M. Hm'lltun.
(‘olorndo .hwh'n I‘ II. By Frwlrvlck hnwey. .
(‘oploln (‘Ituv'n (‘ Mr. "y anu- Slurhnck.

811 Frlz‘co Frank‘s lloo ). By Capt. lenrlck Wlllttakar.
By Part} l‘reltun.

812 The (,‘nl‘e Detective.

813 Dutch llnnrl‘n l‘rnnkn. By Edwnrd S. Ellla.
814 Bnld “end. tln- Douhle Dodger. By Oll Comma.
815 Nevada Jm-k'n Snoop. By Frederlck Dewey.

3115 The llmuhmfi Detoeflve; or, Steele Sharp’s Doublel. By

Irkgl' "W8er
Double.

Edward A. Win a.
317 Jollv Sklppor Jock; nr,’l‘he Young Lleuhnunt’. leu.
By Rogrr Slarhuck.

818 Sharp-Shooter Bum;
Edle Emerson.

819 Dvnunn llnle‘u Grlt: or, Ebenezer Dny’n Mnd Rlde. By
John Nrul. Rvmly Mn)‘ 94.

320 I‘M-n Bondy. th. Ban Purd; or, The Plucky Parson. By J.
Smuh‘y Hr-mhrmm. Ready May 31.
Beadle's lioy’u Library In t'nr ale by all Ngwndulkn, five
cents per copy, or sent bv mall on wall): ofle cent: each.
‘ c
BEADIJB‘.MAMS. Publlahol'l.
V ‘ ’0  “not. Haw York. l

or, Arrm O'Rnurke‘s Plundef. By