CONCLUSION.
Red Crow, the friendly Shawanoe, who had proved his loyalty to the
whites in so many striking instances, left the little party where he had
halted them in the wood and walked rapidly toward the gorge, which he
intended should be crossed by the fugitives and their animals.
It followed that, if such was his intention, the means of crossing was
at his command. So it proved.
He struck the gorge at a place where it was so narrow that Larry Murphy,
and even Mrs. Edwards herself, would have found no difficulty in leaping
it. The horses, if stripped of their loads and sharply urged, would no
doubt have done the same; but to meet such an emergency some one had
caused the trunks of two trees to lie as close as possible side by
side, the "dip" between the logs being packed with dirt and gravel, so
that a space of fully two feet wide and quite level was presented. It
was strong, and any horse could walk over without trouble.
It was curious that the youths, while searching for just such a spot the
previous evening, should have missed it. They must have passed quite
near to it.
Red Crow stood a moment calmly contemplating the rude work of art, his
eyes roving from where he stood to the other side and beyond. It would
seem as if he ought to have been satisfied with the strength of the
bridge, but he appeared to be in doubt, and to test it he started to
walk across.
At the moment of doing so a figure stepped from behind one of the large
trees and advanced to him. Red Crow looked up and saw Blazing Arrow,
who, detecting his approach, had dodged behind shelter. The face of the
miscreant was the embodiment of rage as he ground out the words: "Dog of
a Shawanoe! friend of the white man! you shall die! rot at the bottom of
the water!"
The words were loud enough to be heard above the dull roar of the
current. Red Crow recoiled for a moment on catching sight of his
execrated relative, but it was through surprise rather than fear. The
next moment he took a step forward.
"Blazing Arrow is a rattlesnake! Arqu-wao does not fear him! he hurt him
when he was young and weak like a squaw, but Arqu-wao is now a man and a
warrior!"
While speaking, Red Crow hung his bow behind him and drew his knife.
Blazing Arrow had left his rifle leaning against the tree where he was
hiding, and his hunting-knife was in his hand when he stepped upon the
bridge.
Had the two been obliged to stay apart for a few minutes they would have
used the time in taunting each other, an art in which the American race
is hardly less adept than the Caucasian; but they were eager to come
together; their hatred was too burning for either to waste any time.
They met in the middle of the bridge, directly over the sweeping
current, and assailed each other like a couple of catamounts. It was a
fight to the death, and was fiercely waged by each. Neither would ask or
show mercy, and one or both must succumb.
It would be distressing to describe the terrific encounter in detail.
Nothing could have been fiercer, but it continued only a few minutes,
when a spectator would have seen that Arqu-wao was overmatched. Blazing
Arrow was much the larger, and not only was fully as active, but more
powerful. He pressed his advantage remorselessly, and, though he was
severely wounded by the weapon of the other, he conquered.
The swaying bodies kept their places on the narrow bridge, though
sometimes they narrowly missed rolling into the torrent beneath, until
finally the efforts of Arqu-wao relaxed. Then, seizing him in his brawny
arms, Blazing Arrow lifted him high in the air, and holding him aloft
for a moment, hissed:
"Die, dog of a Shawanoe, your blood is white!"
He swung the senseless body outward, and it shot downward like a
bowlder, and with a loud splash vanished beneath the surface.
But the bloody form of Blazing Arrow was scarcely ten seconds behind it.
The furious exclamations were yet trembling on the dusky lips when the
crack of a rifle broke the stillness. The miscreant, with a resounding
shriek, leaped clear of the bridge and sped downward like a meteor, the
spray flying high in the air as he, too, vanished from human sight.
"Confound it!" muttered the enraged Simon Kenton, "why didn't I get hyar
jes' a minute sooner? I've give Blazing Arrer his last sickness; but
afore I done that he put poor Red Crow to sleep; but it's all over now,
and thar's no use of kickin'."
Advancing to the edge of the torrent, he looked in the direction of the
falls to see the bodies disappear. Once he thought he saw a dark object
for a moment, which he fancied might be one of them, but it disappeared
before he could make certain, and was not seen again.
As he had remarked to himself, there was nothing to be gained by
"kicking," and with a sigh of regret over the unfortunate Red Crow, or,
as he was known among his own people, Arqu-wao, he turned about and
hurriedly rejoined his friends, who were greatly agitated at the tragedy
that they knew had taken place near them.
The scout told, in as few words as he could, what had occurred, and
added:
"It's too bad for Red Crow, but I'm afeared that rifle-shot and the
beautiful yell of Blazing Arrer has been heard by the rest of the
varmints; leastwise we don't want to stay hyar any longer."
Before allowing the party to cross the rude bridge with the animals,
Kenton preceded them and made a careful reconnoisance. He could discover
no signs of Shawanoes, and, picking up Blazing Arrow's rifle from where
it rested against the tree, he signalled the pioneer and the rest to
follow him over.
It was easy for all to obey, but a vexatious delay was caused by the
reluctance of the horses to trust themselves on the narrow foot-bridge,
with the rushing current below. In the very middle of the support the
leader became panic-stricken, and, in attempting to back to the shore
from whence he started, lost his balance, and that was the last of him.
The other reached the bank in safety.
There was no semblance of a path on the other side, and what Red Crow
would have done, had he lived, after crossing, cannot be known; but
Kenton did not hesitate. His knowledge of the country enabled him to
proceed intelligently. He explained the route clearly to the pioneer,
and leaving him to follow orders, he again assumed the duties of rear
guard, adding:
"Push ahead, Brigham, as best you can; to-night will settle whether the
folks get to the settlement or not. If we can dodge the varmints till
after the sun goes down we'll be all right."
"Suppose we get into trouble?"
"I'll signal you. If you hear this gun go off, don't pay any 'tention to
it except to travel faster, if you can."
With an exchange of these brief sentences, the pioneer set out, closely
followed by his wife, the boys and the scout.
Fortunately the horse that went off the bridge did not take all the
lunch with him. Mr. Edwards brought out what was left and divided it
among his companions, and they ate as they walked.
They were now pursuing a clearly defined policy. It was to come back to
the regular trail at a point well beyond where the Indians were believed
to be waiting in ambush. If the hostiles could thus be thrown behind
them, there was reason to hope for the best.
The chief trouble was because of the horse. Without any path for his
feet, and with the trees now and then interfering, and with places so
impassable that they were compelled to make laborious detours, the
progress was exasperatingly slow; but with the passing of the afternoon
and the approach of night, hope strengthened. Safety lay in darkness,
which was close at hand.
At intervals the listening ear of the pioneer caught a familiar signal
from Kenton, but in every instance it was interpreted "All right," and
served to add to the buoyancy of the spirits of all.
The scout was strongly inclined to place a favorable explanation on this
immunity from attack. The Shawanoe war party was small in numbers; it
had suffered the loss of three or four of their best men, among them
their leader, Blazing Arrow. This weakened them greatly.
On the other hand, if the Shawanoes were hunting for the two boys, or
for the pioneer and his wife, they were confronted by a marked change in
the situation. Not only had the two couples been united, but the most
dreaded ranger of the border was with them. There were five rifles among
the whites instead of two, and every person holding a weapon was not
only ready, but was skilled in its use. They knew of the threatened
peril, and were on the alert to guard against it.
In other words, the whites had increased and the red men decreased to
that extent that Kenton half believed the Shawanoes hesitated to attack
them. It was certain that they would not do so unless they could gain
some great advantage over them, which was what the scout determined
should not be gained if it lay in his power to prevent it. Certainly, if
skill and woodcraft could avail, it never would come about.
The veteran ranger employed all the consummate art of which he was
master. He fell farther behind than any of his friends ever suspected;
he made long half way circuits through the woods, and as they neared the
trail he once passed entirely round the company without their knowledge.
Nothing escaped his lynx eyes, but, when the sun at last went down and
twilight stole through the forest, he had not caught the first
suspicious sign.
It was only fairly dark when Edwards stopped, as he had agreed to do, on
reaching the trail. Kenton was with them a few minutes later.
"Things look powerful well," was his encouraging remark; "I haven't
catched sight of hide or hair of the varmints since that hoss of yours
turned summersets off the bridge."
"That is something to be grateful for," was the response of the pioneer.
"I feel more hopeful than at any time since leaving the block-house."
"It is a purty good tramp yet afore we reach the settlement; can you all
stand it?"
"You know better than to ask me that question," replied the settler with
a laugh; "we have been on too many tramps ourselves, but I don't know
about the rest."
"Excepting me," was the cheery response of the wife. "I am so glad to
have Wharton and Larry safe with me that I know not what fatigue is; I
believe I could walk all night without suffering."
"If you give out, make the hoss help."
"No; he has had it harder than any of us. He'll be the first to stop;
but, Wharton, what about you?"
"I'll never let my mother beat me walking," he said with a laugh,
affectionately kissing her ruddy cheek.
"And as for Larry Murphy," added the young gentleman alluded to, "it'll
be a few years from now before he allows any one to beat him in walking
towards home, when he knows that a good supper and bed is awaiting him
there. I'm riddy, gintlemen, when ye say the word."
The good fortune which attended the members of the party did not desert
them. What movements were made by the Shawanoes and what their
intentions were could never be known, but not a hostile shot was fired
within hearing of the fugitives, who at last reached the settlement in
safety, all profoundly grateful to heaven for its mercy.
* * * * *
FAMOUS STANDARD JUVENILE LIBRARIES.
HORATIO ALGER, JR.
The enormous sales of the books of Horatio Alger, Jr., show the
greatness of his popularity among the boys, and prove that he is one of
their most favored writers. I am told that more than half a million
copies altogether have been sold, and that all the large circulating
libraries in the country have several complete sets, of which only two
or three volumes are ever on the shelves at one time. If this is true,
what thousands and thousands of boys have read and are reading Mr.
Alger's books! His peculiar style of stories, often imitated but never
equaled, have taken a hold upon the young people, and, despite their
similarity, are eagerly read as soon as they appear.
Mr. Alger became famous with the publication of that undying book,
"Ragged Dick, or Street Life in New York." It was his first book for
young people, and its success was so great that he immediately devoted
himself to that kind of writing. It was a new and fertile field for a
writer then, and Mr. Alger's treatment of it at once caught the fancy of
the boys. "Ragged Dick" first appeared in 1868, and ever since then it
has been selling steadily, until now it is estimated that about 200,000
copies of the series have been sold.
--_Pleasant Hours for Boys and Girls._
A writer for boys should have an abundant sympathy with them. He should
be able to enter into their plans, hopes, and aspirations. He should
learn to look upon life as they do. Boys object to be written down to. A
boy's heart opens to the man or writer who understands him.
--From _Writing Stories for Boys_, by Horatio Alger, Jr.
* * * * *
=RAGGED DICK SERIES.=
Ragged Dick.
Fame and Fortune.
Mark the Match Boy.
Rough and Ready.
Ben the Luggage Boy.
Rufus and Rose.
=TATTERED TOM SERIES--First Series.=
Tattered Tom.
Paul the Peddler.
Phil the Fiddler.
Slow and Sure.
=TATTERED TOM SERIES--Second Series.=
Julius.
The Young Outlaw.
Sam's Chance.
The Telegraph Boy.
=CAMPAIGN SERIES.=
Frank's Campaign.
Charlie Codman's Cruise.
Paul Prescott's Charge.
=LUCK AND PLUCK SERIES--First Series.=
Luck and Pluck.
Sink or Swim.
Strong and Steady.
Strive and Succeed.
=LUCK AND PLUCK SERIES--Second Series.=
Try and Trust.
Bound to Rise.
Risen from the Ranks.
Herbert Carter's Legacy.
=BRAVE AND BOLD SERIES.=
Brave and Bold.
Jack's Ward.
Shifting for Himself.
Wait and Hope.
=NEW WORLD SERIES.=
Digging for Gold.
Facing the World.
In a New World.
=VICTORY SERIES.=
Only an Irish Boy.
Adrift in the City.
Victor Vane, or the Young Secretary.
=FRANK AND FEARLESS SERIES.=
Frank Hunter's Peril.
Frank and Fearless.
The Young Salesman.
=GOOD FORTUNE LIBRARY.=
Walter Sherwood's Probation.
A Boy's Fortune.
The Young Bank Messenger.
=RUPERT'S AMBITION.=
=JED, THE POOR-HOUSE BOY.=
* * * * *
HARRY CASTLEMON.
HOW I CAME TO WRITE MY FIRST BOOK.
When I was sixteen years old I belonged to a composition class. It was
our custom to go on the recitation seat every day with clean slates, and
we were allowed ten minutes to write seventy words on any subject the
teacher thought suited to our capacity. One day he gave out "What a Man
Would See if He Went to Greenland." My heart was in the matter, and
before the ten minutes were up I had one side of my slate filled. The
teacher listened to the reading of our compositions, and when they were
all over he simply said: "Some of you will make your living by writing
one of these days." That gave me something to ponder upon. I did not say
so out loud, but I knew that my composition was as good as the best of
them. By the way, there was another thing that came in my way just then.
I was reading at that time one of Mayne Reid's works which I had drawn
from the library, and I pondered upon it as much as I did upon what the
teacher said to me. In introducing Swartboy to his readers he made use
of this expression: "No visible change was observable in Swartboy's
countenance." Now, it occurred to me that if a man of his education
could make such a blunder as that and still write a book, I ought to be
able to do it, too. I went home that very day and began a story, "The
Old Guide's Narrative," which was sent to the _New York Weekly_, and
came back, respectfully declined. It was written on both sides of the
sheets but I didn't know that this was against the rules. Nothing
abashed, I began another, and receiving some instruction, from a friend
of mine who was a clerk in a book store, I wrote it on only one side of
the paper. But mind you, he didn't know what I was doing. Nobody knew
it; but one day, after a hard Saturday's work--the other boys had been
out skating on the brick-pond--I shyly broached the subject to my
mother. I felt the need of some sympathy. She listened in amazement, and
then said: "Why, do you think you could write a book like that?" That
settled the matter, and from that day no one knew what I was up to until
I sent the first four volumes of Gunboat Series to my father. Was it
work? Well, yes; it was hard work, but each week I had the satisfaction
of seeing the manuscript grow until the "Young Naturalist" was all
complete.
--_Harry Castlemon in the Writer._
* * * * *
=GUNBOAT SERIES.=
Frank the Young Naturalist.
Frank on a Gunboat.
Frank in the Woods.
Frank before Vicksburg.
Frank on the Lower Mississippi.
Frank on the Prairie.
=ROCKY MOUNTAIN SERIES.=
Frank Among the Rancheros.
Frank in the Mountains.
Frank at Don Carlos' Rancho.
=SPORTSMAN'S CLUB SERIES.=
The Sportsman's Club in the Saddle.
The Sportsman's Club Afloat.
The Sportsman's Club Among the Trappers.
=FRANK NELSON SERIES.=
Snowed up.
Frank in the Forecastle.
The Boy Traders.
=BOY TRAPPER SERIES.=
The Buried Treasure.
The Boy Trapper.
The Mail Carrier.
=ROUGHING IT SERIES.=
George in Camp.
George at the Fort.
George at the Wheel.
=ROD AND GUN SERIES.=
Don Gordon's Shooting Box.
The Young Wild Fowlers.
Rod and Gun Club.
=GO-AHEAD SERIES.=
Tom Newcombe.
Go-Ahead.
No Moss.
=WAR SERIES.=
True to His Colors.
Rodney the Partisan.
Rodney the Overseer.
Marcy the Blockade-Runner.
Marcy the Refugee.
Sailor Jack the Trader.
=HOUSEBOAT SERIES.=
The Houseboat Boys.
The Mystery of Lost River CaƱon.
The Young Game Warden.
=AFLOAT AND ASHORE SERIES.=
Rebellion in Dixie.
A Sailor in Spite of Himself.
The Ten-Ton Cutter.
=THE PONY EXPRESS SERIES.=
The Pony Express Rider.
The White Beaver.
Carl, The Trailer.
* * * * *
EDWARD S. ELLIS.
Edward S. Ellis the popular writer of boys' books, is a native of Ohio,
where he was born somewhat more than a half-century ago. His father was
a famous hunter and rifle shot, and it was doubtless his exploits and
those of his associates, with their tales of adventure which gave the
son his taste for the breezy backwoods and for depicting the stirring
life of the early settlers on the frontier.
Mr. Ellis began writing at an early age and his work was acceptable from
the first. His parents removed to New Jersey while he was a boy and he
was graduated from the State Normal School and became a member of the
faculty while still in his teens. He was afterward principal of the
Trenton High School, a trustee and then superintendent of schools. By
that time his services as a writer had become so pronounced that he gave
his entire attention to literature. He was an exceptionally successful
teacher and wrote a number of text-books for schools, all of which met
with high favor. For these and his historical productions, Princeton
College conferred upon him the degree of Master of Arts.
The high moral character, the clean, manly tendencies and the admirable
literary style of Mr. Ellis' stories have made him as popular on the
other side of the Atlantic as in this country. A leading paper remarked
some time since, that no mother need hesitate to place in the hands of
her boy any book written by Mr. Ellis. They are found in the leading
Sunday-school libraries, where, as may well be believed, they are in
wide demand and do much good by their sound, wholesome lessons which
render them as acceptable to parents as to their children. All of his
books published by Henry T. Coates & Co. are re-issued in London, and
many have been translated into other languages. Mr. Ellis is a writer of
varied accomplishments, and, in addition to his stories, is the author
of historical works, of a number of pieces of popular music and has
made several valuable inventions. Mr. Ellis is in the prime of his
mental and physical powers, and great as have been the merits of his
past achievements, there is reason to look for more brilliant
productions from his pen in the near future.
* * * * *
=DEERFOOT SERIES.=
Hunters of the Ozark.
The Last War Trail.
Camp in the Mountains.
=LOG CABIN SERIES.=
Lost Trail.
Footprints in the Forest.
Camp-Fire and Wigwam.
=BOY PIONEER SERIES.=
Ned in the Block-House.
Ned on the River.
Ned in the Woods.
=THE NORTHWEST SERIES.=
Two Boys in Wyoming.
Cowmen and Rustlers.
A Strange Craft and its Wonderful Voyage.
=BOONE AND KENTON SERIES.=
Shod with Silence.
In the Days of the Pioneers.
Phantom of the River.
=IRON HEART, WAR CHIEF OF THE IROQUOIS.=
=THE SECRET OF COFFIN ISLAND.=
=THE BLAZING ARROW.=
* * * * *
J. T. TROWBRIDGE.
Neither as a writer does he stand apart from the great currents of life
and select some exceptional phase or odd combination of circumstances.
He stands on the common level and appeals to the universal heart, and
all that he suggests or achieves is on the plane and in the line of
march of the great body of humanity.
The Jack Hazard series of stories, published in the late _Our Young
Folks_, and continued in the first volume of _St. Nicholas_, under the
title of "Fast Friends," is no doubt destined to hold a high place in
this class of literature. The delight of the boys in them (and of their
seniors, too) is well founded. They go to the right spot every time.
Trowbridge knows the heart of a boy like a book, and the heart of a man,
too, and he has laid them both open in these books in a most successful
manner. Apart from the qualities that render the series so attractive to
all young readers, they have great value on account of their
portraitures of American country life and character. The drawing is
wonderfully accurate, and as spirited as it is true. The constable,
Sellick, is an original character, and as minor figures where will we
find anything better than Miss Wansey, and Mr. P. Pipkin, Esq. The
picture of Mr. Dink's school, too, is capital, and where else in fiction
is there a better nick-name than that the boys gave to poor little
Stephen Treadwell, "Step Hen," as he himself pronounced his name in an
unfortunate moment when he saw it in print for the first time in his
lesson in school.
On the whole, these books are very satisfactory, and afford the critical
reader the rare pleasure of the works that are just adequate, that
easily fulfill themselves and accomplish all they set out to
do.--_Scribner's Monthly._
=JACK HAZARD SERIES.=
Jack Hazard and His Fortunes.
The Young Surveyor.
Fast Friends.
Doing His Best.
A Chance for Himself.
Lawrence's Adventures.
* * * * *
ROUNDABOUT LIBRARY.
For Boys and Girls.
(97 Volumes.)
The attention of Librarians and Bookbuyers generally is called to HENRY
T. COATES & CO.'S ROUNDABOUT LIBRARY, by the popular authors.
EDWARD S. ELLIS,
HORATIO ALGER, JR.,
C. A. STEPHENS,
MARGARET VANDEGRIFT,
HARRY CASTLEMON,
G. A. HENTY,
LUCY C. LILLIE and others.
No authors of the present day are greater favorites with boys and girls.
Every book is sure to meet with a hearty reception by young readers.
Librarians will find them to be among the most popular books on their
lists.
HENRY T. COATES & CO.
1222 CHESTNUT STREET
PHILADELPHIA