THE CURTAIN FALLS.
In the early evening of one of the balmiest days of October, 1794, two
figures ascended the eastern declivity of a remarkable promontory whose
western summit gave a commanding view to the eye of an Indian town of
considerable dimensions, in the center of a prairie-like country far
below their feet. The dress and features of the twain at once would
proclaim them Kenowatha and Mark Morgan. They were a day or so in
advance of Wayne’s army, which was sweeping through the country like
a whirlwind, destroying thousands of acres of ripened corn and burning
the villages of the Indians, thus inflicting upon them the direst
punishment that they could receive.
After the victory of the Fallen Timbers--in which not only the She-wolf
and her young companion performed a most thrilling part, but in which
Effie St. Pierre had herself killed the old trader as he was in the
act of sacrificing Mark to his fiendish vengeance--a wounded Indian
had discharged his rifle at Kenowatha and inflicted a wound which had
caused a great amount of suffering, and the morning of the day in
question was the first that witnessed his stepping again upon the war
path. Nanette had left him for a few days, for the purpose of scouting
up the Maumee, and had promised to meet the army at a certain place;
but the promise had not been kept. Where was she? At the battle of
Fallen Timbers she had succeeded in closing the fearful list of her
victims, by slaying Turkey-foot in a manner which struck double terror
to his fierce comrades; and Kenowatha had, almost at the moment,
dealt the detested and blood-bespattered Girty his death-blow in a
contest which hate and a thirst for vengeance in both made especially
relentless; so that both the She-wolf and her friend had now no
particular enemies to hunt them down. Where then was she?
The youth was growing uneasy at the Girl Avenger’s absence and though
Mark assured him that she was safe--when even he feared the worst--the
renegade’s _protege_ would not be comforted.
They had ascended the hill for the purpose of ascertaining whether the
Indians intended to make a stand at this, their greatest village; but
they soon learned that the panic still existed among the ranks of the
red-men, for they were destroying their lodges, saving Wayne that labor.
The two spies had scarcely reached the summit of the mount, ere a yell
announced that they had been discovered. A large party of stragglers
returning to the village had caught sight of the heads elevated above
the fissures of the promontory, and in less time than it takes the pen
to relate it, the whole base of the mount was surrounded, and all hope
of escape cut off!
Attack was not long delayed, for the savages had recognized the spies,
and their hideous yells told them how they thirsted for their hearts’
blood. Still the twain possessed an advantage, for from the narrow
backbone of the mount, they were compelled to advance toward them in
single file, and the form of each warrior must momentarily be exposed
to their unerring rifles.
Warrior after warrior fell beneath the spies’ rifles, when the savages
prepared an attack on the flank, which could be successfully and
fatally done by reaching an insulated rock lying in one of the ravines
on the southern hillside. This rock once gained by the Indians, they
could bring their foes under point-blank shot of their rifles and
without possibility of escape.
The brave scouts saw the utter hopelessness of the situation, but like
the truly brave never despaired. They looked into each other’s faces,
and though they spoke not their eyes said: “We’ll fight to the bitter
end: our lives shall cost the red-skins a score.”
Presently Kenowatha saw a tall and swarthy figure preparing to spring
from a cover so near the fatal rock that a single bound must reach
it and all hope be destroyed. Knowing that all might depend upon one
advantageous shot, and although but one inch of the warrior’s body was
exposed, he raised his rifle, and drew the deadly bead on the rash
red-skin. But instead of the flint striking fire, and signing the
brave’s death-warrant, it flew into a thousand fragments, and the youth
cursed his misfortune from the depths of his heart. Morgan was some
distance away, guarding another threatened point, and Kenowatha could
expect no help from him. The savage continued to approach the rock
while the youth proceeded to adjust another flint, though he felt that
the labor would prove fruitless.
Suddenly the Shawnee made the spring with the agility of the forest
deer; but, instead of reaching the rock, he leaped ten feet in the
air, and, with a chilling death-yell, he fell to the earth, and rolled
fifty feet down the hill, shot by an unknown foe! A hundred cries from
below reëchoed the shout, and the advantage so mysteriously gained
by the scouts proved of short duration, for another swarthy warrior
was advancing toward the cover so lately occupied by his stricken
brother. Now the attack in front claimed the scout’s attention, and
while thus engaged the brave leaped for the rock only to fall dead by
the same mysterious shot. This last shot cast dismay into the ranks of
the attacking party, and at sundown they retired to plan anew for the
destruction of the whites.
The heavens now became shrouded with opaque clouds, and presently a
figure resembling an animal was seen crawling toward the scouts.
“An Indian!” whispered Kenowatha, and his rifle was brought to bear
upon the dark object.
Already his finger touched the trigger, when the peculiar cry of the
young She-wolf greeted his ears, and his rifle fell from his shoulder.
“Nanette!”
The figure rose to an erect posture, and the next moment the Girl
Avenger grasped the hands of the scouts. It was she who had delivered
the mysterious shots. She had reached the Mount a short time in advance
of the spies, and when surrounded by the Indians, concluded that she
could assist them from her place of concealment as much as though at
their sides.
An escape was now thought of, and in the darkness the trio left their
position. Before they deserted the mount, the bodies of no less than
thirteen Indians lay scalpless thereon, and the brows of some bore a
red crescent, those of others a bloody cross!
As Kenowatha placed his mark upon the forehead of the last brave slain
by his rifle, he took Nanette’s hand.
“Girl,” he whispered, “do you recollect your promise in the cave?”
“Yes, boy.”
“Then to-night I sheathe my knife. Are you not tired of slaying? Have
not the dead been avenged?”
“Yes, Kenowatha; the deeds of that night have been atoned for by the
red perpetrators with the blood of the bravest of the hosts. I have no
desire for further vengeance.”
“Nor I, girl; my mark has become as terrible to the Indians as yours;
they have seen it in the thicket, the brake, by the stream, and on the
hills. You will keep your promise?”
“Yes, boy. God forbid that I should break it.”
They avoided the guards at the base of the promontory, and though
pursued, after leaving it, by a large party of Indians from the
village, they made good their escape, and encountered Wayne’s army
early the following day.
At the treaty of Greenville, solemnized August 30th, 1795, the
assembled chiefs cast lowering glances upon the Beautiful Terror of
the Maumee, who, standing beside Kenowatha, looked more beautiful than
ever. The last cross and crescent on the butt of her rifle had received
its complement of punctures, and the braves congratulated themselves
that no longer would they live in fear of the ball that had sent so
many of their brethren to the spirit-land. The fangs of the young
She-wolf would molest them no more, and they breathed freer when beyond
her presence at Mad Anthony’s side.
The end is at hand.
After the battle of Fallen Timbers, Wayne surrendered Rudolph Runnion
over to justice, and one calm September day, in the presence of the
entire garrison of Fort Miami, the death of Firman Campbell was avenged
by the unyielding law.
Kenowatha, whose true name, Clinton Wilkinson, had been revealed by a
chief who participated in the massacres of the year that witnessed the
doom of the boy’s parents, accompanied by Nanette, turned their faces
eastward, and a year later stood before a village altar, where they
plighted vows of eternal constancy.
Long before this event, Mark Morgan called Effie his beautiful bride,
and they witnessed the ceremony which made Kenowatha and Nanette one.
For all their trials in the wilderness of Ohio this was reward enough,
and to-day their descendents number some of noblest of the nation.
The vengeance of the Girl Avenger was never obliterated from the minds
of the Indians, and to-day the remnants of the dark tribes, dwelling
on scanty reservations far toward the setting sun, relate the story of
those dark times to shuddering listeners around the bivouac fires.
THE END.
THE ILLUMINATED DIME POCKET NOVELS.
PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY.
=1--Hawkeye Harry.= By Oll Coomes.
=2--Dead Shot.= By Albert W. Aiken.
=3--The Boy Miner.= By Edward S. Ellis.
=4--Blue Dick.= By Capt. Mayne Reid.
=5--Nat Wolfe.= By Mrs. M. V. Victor.
=6--The White Tracker.= By Edward S. Ellis.
=7--The Outlaw’s Wife.= By Mrs. Ann S. Stephens.
=8--The Tall Trapper.= By Albert W. Aiken.
=9--Lightning Jo.= By Capt. Adams.
=10--The Island Pirate.= By Capt. Mayne Reid.
=11--The Boy Ranger.= By Oll Coomes.
=12--Bess, the Trapper.= By E. S. Ellis.
=13--The French Spy.= By W. J. Hamilton.
=14--Long Shot.= By Capt. Comstock.
=15--The Gunmaker.= By James L. Bowen.
=16--Red Hand.= By A. G. Piper.
=17--Ben, the Trapper.= By Lewis W. Carson.
=18--Wild Raven.= By Oll Coomes.
=19--The Specter Chief.= By Seelin Robins.
=20--The B’ar-Killer.= By Capt. Comstock.
=21--Wild Nat.= By Wm. R. Eyster.
=22--Indian Jo.= By Lewis W. Carson.
=23--Old Kent, the Ranger.= Edward S. Ellis.
=24--The One-Eyed Trapper.= Capt. Comstock.
=25--Godbold, the Spy.= By N. C. Iron.
=26--The Black Ship.= By John S. Warner.
=27--Single Eye.= By Warren St. John.
=28--Indian Jim.= By Edward S. Ellis.
=29--The Scout.= By Warren St. John.
=30--Eagle Eye.= By W. J. Hamilton.
=31--The Mystic Canoe.= By Edward S. Ellis.
=32--The Golden Harpoon.= By R. Starbuck.
=33--The Scalp King.= By Lieut. Ned Hunter.
=34--Old Lute.= By E. W. Archer.
=35--Rainbolt, Ranger.= By Oll Coomes.
=36--The Boy Pioneer.= By Edward S. Ellis.
=37--Carson, the Guide.= By J. H. Randolph.
=38--The Heart Eater.= By Harry Hazard.
=39--Wetzel, the Scout.= By Boynton Belknap.
=40--The Huge Hunter.= By Ed. S. Ellis.
=41--Wild Nat, the Trapper.= By Paul Prescott.
=42--Lynx-cap.= By Paul Bibbs.
=43--The White Outlaw.= By Harry Hazard.
=44--The Dog Trailer.= By Frederick Dewey.
=45--The Elk King.= By Capt. Chas. Howard.
=46--Adrian, the Pilot.= By Col. P. Ingraham.
=47--The Man-hunter.= By Maro O. Rolfe.
=48--The Phantom Tracker.= By F. Dewey.
=49--Moccasin Bill.= By Paul Bibbs.
=50--The Wolf Queen.= By Charles Howard.
=51--Tom Hawk, the Trailer.=
=52--The Mad Chief.= By Chas. Howard.
=53--The Black Wolf.= By Edwin E. Ewing.
=54--Arkansas Jack.= By Harry Hazard.
=55--Blackbeard.= By Paul Bibbs.
=56--The River Rifles.= By Billex Muller.
=57--Hunter Ham.= By J. Edgar Iliff.
=58--Cloudwood.= By J. M. Merrill.
=59--The Texas Hawks.= By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
=60--Merciless Mat.= By Capt. Chas. Howard.
=61--Mad Anthony’s Scouts.= By E. Rodman.
=62--The Luckless Trapper.= Wm. R. Eyster.
=63--The Florida Scout.= Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
=64--The Island Trapper.= Chas. Howard.
=65--Wolf-Cap.= By Capt. Chas. Howard.
=66--Rattling Dick.= By Harry Hazard.
=67--Sharp-Eye.= By Major Max Martine.
=68--Iron-Hand.= By Frederick Forest.
=69--The Yellow Hunter.= By Chas. Howard.
=70--The Phantom Rider.= By Maro O. Rolfe.
=71--Delaware Tom.= By Harry Hazard.
=72--Silver Rifle.= By Capt. Chas. Howard.
=73--The Skeleton Scout.= Maj. L. W. Carson.
=74--Little Rifle.= By Capt. “Bruin” Adams.
=75--The Wood Witch.= By Edwin Emerson.
=76--Old Ruff, the Trapper.= “Bruin” Adams.
=77--The Scarlet Shoulders.= Harry Hazard.
=78--The Border Rifleman.= L. W. Carson.
=79--Outlaw Jack.= By Harry Hazard.
=80--Tiger-Tail, the Seminole.= R. Ringwood.
=81--Death-Dealer.= By Arthur L. Meserve.
=82--Kenton, the Ranger.= By Chas. Howard.
=83--The Specter Horseman.= Frank Dewey.
=84--The Three Trappers.= Seelin Robins.
=85--Kaleolah.= By T. Benton Shields, U. S. N.
=86--The Hunter Hercules.= Harry St. George.
=87--Phil Hunter.= By Capt. Chas. Howard.
=88--The Indian Scout.= By Harry Hazard.
=89--The Girl Avenger.= By Chas. Howard.
* * * * *
The following will be issued in the order and on the dates indicated:
=90--The Red Hermitess=; or, the Caravan’s Prizes. By Paul Bibbs.
Ready Dec. 4th.
=91--Star-Face, the Slayer.= Ready Dec. 18th.
=92--The Antelope Boy.= By Geo. L. Aiken. Ready Dec. 31st.
=93--The Phantom Hunter=; or, Love After Death. By Edwin Emerson.
Ready Jan. 15th.
=94--Tom Pintle, the Pilot.= A Tale of the Three-Years-War.
By Milnor Klapp, Esq. Ready Jan. 29th.
=95--The Red Wizard=; or, the Cave Captive. By Lieut. Ned Hunter.
Ready Feb. 12th.
=96--The Rival Trappers=; or, Old Pegs the Mountaineer.
By Lewis W. Carson. Ready Feb. 26th.
=97--The Squaw Spy=; or, the Rangers of the Lava Beds.
By Capt. Chas. Howard. Ready March 12th.
☞ Beadle’s Dime Pocket Novels are always in print and for
sale by all newsdealers; or will be sent post-paid, to any
address: single numbers, ten cents; six months (13 Nos.)
$1.25; one year (26 Nos.) $2.50.
Address, =BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York=.
Transcriber’s Notes
A number of typographical errors were corrected silently.
Cover image is in the public domain.
Normalized various spellings of what would be rendered in 2022 as
protégé to _protege_.