THE BITTER END.
The giant hunter guarded the mouth of the cave alone until midnight.
He heard no noise save the voices of his friends below him, and the
soughing of the forest trees. The ghostly sounds boded danger. The
half-superstitious hunter had noted this, for years, and he was
remarking it in a low tone when the cracking of a bough startled his
trained senses.
Instantly he was on the alert, and presently his sharp eyes
distinguished three dark bodies approaching the cave. They looked like
panthers, but he knew at once that they were human beings.
Stepping back into the corridor he called Nehonesto, and the chief was
soon at his side.
“Didn’t I tell ye so?” he asked, looking into the Ojibwa’s face in
triumph.
“What does the white hunter mean?” questioned the savage in turn.
“Ye’ll see d’rectly, chief,” said Doc Bell; “they’re after us, but
we’ll trap ’em. Back!”
He pushed the Indian into a natural niche in the wall of the corridor,
and quickly followed him.
A minute later the mouth of the cavern was obscured by a black object,
and they heard low voices.
“They are gone; curse the dogs!”
The voice was clothed in the deepest chagrin.
“But we will see!” returned another voice, which the hidden listeners
at once recognized.
Then, once more, they saw the stars, but knew that a brace of human
panthers were crawling down the corridor.
The third had been left to guard the orifice.
“We’ve got ’em now!” whispered Doc Bell to Nehonesto. “Ready?”
A guttural “Ugh” served as an affirmative reply, and Bill said:
“Chief, take the foremost, and, mind ye, hold the she-devil fast!”
A moment later the twain realized that the intruders were opposite
them, and a low “Now” from the giant’s lips impelled them forward.
Nehonesto’s hands closed on Coleola, and Doc Bell threw the Yellow
Bloodhound to the ground!
“I calkilate how a purty mess hez been spiled,” laughed the hunter, in
tones of triumph, and a cry drew our hero and Swamp Oak from the cavern.
“Here, Bob, hold this devil!” cried Bell, relinquishing the renegade to
Somerville. “I want thet fellar what they left above us.”
He sprung toward the mouth of the cave, where he stumbled over the
crouching form of a man.
“Mercy!” groaned a trembling voice as the giant regained his feet.
“John Williamson!”
“Yes, but spare. Oh, spare!”
“Who said I war goin’ to kill?” cried Bell. “I’m willin’ to spare; but
I’m desp’ratly afeard somebody else won’t.”
The trader groaned, and followed Bell back into the cave.
Coleola and Bardue had been conducted to the large chamber, where,
sullen and silent, they stood before many an eye, flashing with
vengeance of the direst nature.
“So ye thought we warn’t hyar, eh?” said the big hunter, fastening his
eyes upon the creole. “Wal, ef your red devils hadn’t ’tacked this hole
an’ killed Oll Blount, ye wouldn’t ’a’ found us hyar, either. Ther
folks war buryin’ Oll when ye come, an’ now I calkilate as how thar’s
goin’ to be some more funerals. Woman,” and he turned to the Snake
Queen who was regarding Swamp Oak and her dumb daughter with flashing
eyes, “how did you git out o’ that cave!”
“Coleola crawled forth like the snake,” she answered, suddenly finding
her tongue. “The Big Moccasin struck her when she bore the Lone Dove
through the darkness; but she crept away, and they did not hunt her
long. The big noise filled her head with thunder, and when she opened
her eyes she crawled into the woods. She saw the big hunter drive the
red-man from the cave, and then she flew back to find the Delawares.
But she met the Bloodhound in the woods, and they are here--Coleola and
the Yellow one.”
“An’ what does Coleola expect?” asked the hunter.
She answered, quickly:
“Death!”
“Yes, Coleola shall step upon the death-trail!” cried Swamp Oak,
darting forward. “She has torn Ulalah’s tongue from her mouth, and
Ulalah shall visit the same punishment upon the she-panther whom she
once called mother.”
The doomed woman uttered a terrible shriek, as the Indian halted before
her with drawn knife, and when he commanded the avenging child to
prepare for her horrible work, a whirlwind of passion swept across the
Snake Queen’s frame, and she wrenched her only hand from the thongs
which held it captive.
The next instant she shot upon her daughter, and clutched her throat
with the fiendishness of despair.
But, Swamp Oak darted to the rescue! He sprung upon the mad-woman; but
was hurled against the wall of the cave by Ulalah, whom Coleola had
suddenly transformed into her battle ax!
“Snakes an’ lizards, what a devil!” cried Doc Bell, and he sprung at
the Snake Queen, who was retreating toward the corridor, with the
imperiled girl describing fearful circles before her.
“Back!” yelled Coleola.
But the daring hunter would not obey.
He flung his rifle above his head, and the blow descended upon the arm
of the infuriated woman. Ulalah, speechless, fell to the ground.
The Snake Queen reeled, but ere she struck the ground, Swamp Oak was
upon her.
He thought not of slow torture then. He thought Ulalah dead, so
motionless she lay on the floor of the cavern, and his knife sunk to
the haft in the red-woman’s bosom! Then, while she gasped for life, the
reeking blade tore her tongue from her mouth, and he sprung aloft with
a hideous yell of triumph!
The spectators shuddered at the awful sight; but they were soon called
upon to witness other scenes.
Doc Bell turned to Jules Bardue as Swamp Oak bent over the woman he
loved.
“You’ve got to die!” he said, sternly. “All dogs have their day.”
The creole did not reply, but fiercely eyed the speaker.
“You’ve made the earth run with innocent blood,” continued Doc, “an’
hed it not been fur ye, he whom we just buried, would hev still been
livin’. Hev ye got any thin’ to say afore ye go?”
There was no reply, and the hunter turned to our friends.
“By whose hand shall the dog die?” he asked.
A painful silence followed, and at length the hunter stepped aside, and
picked up a handful of small stones. He then turned to our hero:
“How many, Bob?”
“Twenty.”
“What’s yer guess, Swamp Oak?”
The Peoria indicated fifteen with his fingers, and Nehonesto
twenty-five.
Slowly Bill opened his hand, saying “Twenty-two” as he did so. A
careful count told that he had guessed the exact number of the pebbles!
“I knowed it war to be thus,” he said, slowly, and stepped back looking
to the priming of his rifle.
Jules Bardue faced him with pallid countenance, and wildly beating
heart!
He knew that the end of his bloody life was at hand.
The spectators shrunk from the doomed man, and turned their eyes upon
his executioner.
For a moment the hunter’s eyes glanced along the polished barrel, and
then a jet of fire leaped from the bore.
The Yellow Bloodhound shrieked, and dropped to the ground--stone-dead!
“I told ye that nothin’ but a bullet atween the eyes would finish ’im,”
said Doc Bell, turning to the spectators, “an’ he’s got it at last!”
For a moment silence reigned, and then the cry of “Mercy” echoed
throughout the cavern.
It came from John Williamson’s throat, and Bob Somerville sprung
forward to save him from the Peoria’s vengeance.
But he was too late!
He saw the Indian’s knife dart toward the trader’s breast, and when
he touched the bare red arm, the knife, reeking with blood, had been
withdrawn.
“Through him has Swamp Oak’s relatives fallen,” said the savage,
releasing the corpse. “He killed Pontiac; he brought the torch and
scalping-knife to the forests of the Illinois; and the squaws and
pappooses of the Peorias fall before the red dogs as fast as the rain
falls from the black clouds. Now the demons of the dark land will chase
the pale-face no longer.”
“Now for Fort Chartres!” said Bell. “We mought as well start at once,
fur it’s er long journey, an’ ther way is black with death. But I think
we’ve hed enough ov scrimmages to last er lifetime, an’ I b’lieve thet
God ar’ a-goin’ to keep us all safe now, till we see ther old fort
erg’in. I want ter leave this kentry, an’ git back to ther Miami. I’m
used to ther lay ov thet land, an’ they don’t talk erbout skinnin’
erlive thar, either.”
A few minutes later the entire party left the cave, and stepped upon
the long trail.
We need not follow them, for their journey would not interest the
reader, who has followed their fortunes over the winding trail of death.
A mighty hand guided them through the new dangers, and at last the
English flag rose upon their vision.
A cry of joy burst from the little band.
Now they could enjoy peace, for the last peril had been passed in
safety, and they could thrill the hearts of others with a narration of
their adventures.
A few days after the return to the fort, Bob Somerville called Kate
Blount “wife,” and after the interesting ceremony Doc Bell turned his
face toward the death-regions of Ohio, where, in a forest drama, as
startling as the one just penned, the reader shall encounter him again.
Ulalah remained in Fort Chartres till the close of the avengers’ war,
when Swamp Oak returned from the bloody forest-paths, and took his
silent bird to a home far from the ruins of his tribe’s wigwams.
Nehonesto followed Doc Bell to the valleys of the Miami.
And now, reader, the pen must be thrown aside again. But first, let me
say that the mystery that enwraps the explosion of the Bloodhound’s
cave, and John Williamson’s escape from the Indians on the Cahokia,
remains to the humble writer a mystery still.
It may never be penetrated.
THE END.
DIME POCKET NOVELS.
PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY, AT TEN CENTS EACH.
=1--Hawkeye Harry.= By Oll Coomes.
=2--Dead Shot.= By Albert W. Aiken.
=3--The Boy Miners.= By Edward S. Ellis.
=4--Blue Dick.= By Capt. Mayne Reid.
=5--Nat Wolfe.= By Mrs. M. V. Victor.
=6--The White Tracker.= Edward S. Ellis.
=7--The Outlaw’s Wife.= 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.= 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 Hill.
=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.
=90--The Red Hermitess.= By Paul Bibbs.
=91--Star-Face, the Slayer.=
=92--The Antelope Boy.= By Geo. L. Aiken.
=93--The Phantom Hunter.= By E. Emerson.
=94--Tom Pintle, the Pilot.= By M. Klopp.
=95--The Red Wizard.= By Ned Hunter.
=96--The Rival Trappers.= By L. W. Carson.
=97--The Squaw Spy.= By Capt. Chas. Howard.
=98--Dusky Dick.= By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
=99--Colonel Crockett.= By Chas. E. Lasalle.
=100--Old Bear Paw.= By Major Max Martine.
=101--Redlaw.= By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
=102--Wild Rube.= By W. J. Hamilton.
=103--The Indian Hunters.= By J. L. Bowen.
=104--Scarred Eagle.= By Andrew Dearborn.
=105--Nick Doyle.= By P. Hamilton Myers.
=106--The Indian Spy.= By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
=107--Job Dean.= By Ingoldsby North.
=108--The Wood King.= By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
=109--The Scalped Hunter.= By Harry Hazard.
=110--Nick, the Scout.= By W. J. Hamilton.
=111--The Texas Tiger=. By Edward Willett.
=112--The Crossed Knives.= By Hamilton.
=113--Tiger-Heart=, the Tracker. By Howard.
=114--The Masked Avenger.= By Ingraham.
=115--The Pearl Pirates.= By Starbuck.
=116--Black Panther.= By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
=117--Abdiel, the Avenger.= By Ed. Willett.
=118--Cato, the Creeper.= By Fred. Dewey.
=119--Two-Handed Mat.= By Jos. E. Badger.
=120--Mad Trail Hunter.= By Harry Hazard.
=121--Black Nick.= By Frederick Whittaker.
=122--Kit Bird.= By W. J. Hamilton.
=123--The Specter Riders.= By Geo. Gleason.
=124--Giant Pete.= By W. J. Hamilton.
=125--The Girl Captain.= By Jos. E. Badger.
=126--Yankee Eph.= By J. R. Worcester.
=127--Silverspur.= By Edward Willett.
=128--Squatter Dick.= By Jos. E. Badger.
=129--The Child Spy.= By George Gleason.
=130--Mink Coat.= By Jos. E. Badger.
=131--Red Plume.= By J. Stanley Henderson.
=132--Clyde, the Trailer.= By Maro O. Rolfe.
=133--The Lost Cache.= J. Stanley Henderson.
=134--The Cannibal Chief.= Paul J. Prescott.
=135--Karaibo.= By J. Stanley Henderson.
=136--Scarlet Moccasin.= By Paul Bibbs.
=137--Kidnapped.= By J. Stanley Henderson.
=138--Maid of the Mountain.= By Hamilton.
=139--The Scioto Scouts.= By Ed. Willett.
=140--The Border Renegade.= By Badger.
=141--The Mute Chief.= By C. D. Clark.
=142--Boone, the Hunter.= By Whittaker.
=143--Mountain Kate.= By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
=144--The Red Scalper.= By W. J. Hamilton.
=145--The Lone Chief.= By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
=146--The Silver Bugle.= Lieut. Col. Hazleton.
=147--Chinga, the Cheyenne.= By Edward S. Ellis. Ready
=148--The Tangled Trail.= By Major Max Martine. Ready
=149--The Unseen Hand.= By J. Stanley Henderson. Ready
=150--The Lone Indian.= By Capt. Chas. Howard. Ready
=151--The Branded Brave.= By Paul Bibbs. Ready
=152--Billy Bowlegs, the Seminole Chief.= Ready April 20th.
=153--The Valley Scout.= By Seelin Robins. Ready May 4.
=154--Red Jacket, the Huron.= By Paul Bibbs. Ready May 18th.
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.