ORIGINAL TALE.

Tuapeka Times, Volume I, Issue 45, 19 December 1868, Page 5

ORIGINAL TALE.

° • TKE'BQSTEI* QF THE OKJBBTHAL. ▲ bbush with the beds : jack bbice's stobt. The BuTsch'B story finished, we all retired to bed ; and on the following evening met jto, have yarning matclir After -I-had won the admiration of all by brewing a stiff bowl of real "GHaisgey" punch, Jack Brice was knocked down for a story, and after some demur he proceeded as follows : — • "^Q-entlemen, I feel myself in the predicament of the needy knife-grinder — 'A story? bless your honours I haye none to tell, sirs.* My adven£ureY Cfi&Ve T . been too" commonplace, j there has been too much of the spreeing student in my scrapes to interest any one.. Howeves, I. will tell you an adventure which happened to a cousin of mine, whom a roving disposition and an empty pocket drove to Texas.Now, ; although my cousin did not abuse the Lone Star State with as much bitterness "ks Phil Sheridan, I don't believe- his opinion was much more favourable. lighting Phil said if he owned Texas and Pandemonium, he would lease Texas and live in the other place ; so you may imagine it is not quite the earthly paradise emigration agents crack it up to be. However, my .cousin Dick found himself landed at Gralveston with six or seven bits in his pocket, and the wide prairie before him. . Those who never saw a prairie are apt to imagine them a kind of cross between a billiardtable and a gentleman's lawn. How different is the reality. A wide ex•pance of rolling— no other word can suitably express the regularity of the very irregularity of the ground — plains covered with rank, coarse grass, here and there broken by-rising hummocks, or deep ravines with precipitous bluffs : such are the salient features of a prairie landscape. Well, Dick found it no good hanging about the settlements, so he engaged in the capacity of stockrider, or vaquero, on an upcountry rancho^ As he was a fearless and skilful horseman, he soon won the confidence 5 of his employer, who had been one of the pioneers, and hailed from Kentucky. Seth Jones, — for such was his name,r- was a strange character, fearless as a buffalo and tender-hearted as a woman. He was well known as a deadly shot ; and no Comanche dared molest his property, so well kuown was the deadly accuracy of his aim. Nor'- was his daughter .Kate behind in* those, manly accomplishments. !Never, indeed, did a fairer Amazon 'bewitch an unfortunate mortal by more brilliant deeds of '*derring-do.' Dick- • was tolerably happy ; he alternately on shooting excursions with the father and love-making expeditions:. », with the daughter. It was midsummer, and the burning heat of 'the sun had parched the herbage and dried up all the pools, when Seth and my cousin rode out to have, a shot at the buffalo. . They were both well armed, and were attended by several peons, whose duty was to stampede the game towards the hunters. On they rode, Seth pouring out many a strange narrative of perilous adventures with, reds, or 'yallerbelMes.' Suddenly, away in the distance, they-observed a troop of horses. ' A manada ! ' cried Dick ; and eager to try the mettle of his horse against the wild mustangs, he would have pressed forward. ' '"Wait, lad, .-■vyait,' said Seth, as he eagerly scanned} the animals. ' ComanchesV*^ gu«n ! ' at .last he exclaimed; anawelhave got to fight or run.' ___^r 'Nonsense,' saidDTfe; 'those horses have no riders.' 'An old trick, my boy \ioo old to deceive a ranger. On theL^j^eof every one of those musta^^^^^te& varmint is slung ! '^U^v *'^^^^^H| As though conscious^ conceaiment^ras useless, a^^^H^^|

that a chief had falli. ' All this time ! the peons had bel busily at work cutting 'the grass fund where they stood, andin a shortlne a considerable space was cleared. »king his powder flask, the rancherb Id a train along the edge of this patql and .set fire to it. At once the drlherbage caught '. fire and blazed up. the terrified In- . dians turned to fleel but the flames travelled faster than me swiftest steed, and we heard the dew yells of more than one. A, gust fjwind blew up the smoke, and in tfii centre of the, raging flames the unf&mate savages were seen for a inofcnt struggling for their life, but in via. "With the cheerfulness of menjrho have just escaped a deadly pefti the hunters prepared to depart, for lie fire was by this time miles distant, when a yell from their rear warneflthem of an unexpected peril. A|>arty ,of the Indians had crept down|ie bluff while their attention was directed by the attack in front, and nowpshed on the small party with all the |bsperation a desire for vengeance gres. For a moment Dick was aware of a fierce struggle, of striking out madly with his machete, or hunting Word; when a blow on the head stunnel him, and he fell Bleeding to the gropd. "Wben consciousness returned, |he found himself a prisoner in theliands of a race who were never know| to spare a prostrate foe. He was lyins stretched on the ground, his limbs bopd tightly with green hide ropes. Atji fire some little distance off the sa^ges were holding a palaver, on the result of which he knew his fate depended. At length they seemed agreed, £ad he was raised up and tied to a tre4 For a moment the fear of the doona which seemed inevitable caused a touiver to pass through his frame. | , ' "Wah ! wah ! ' cried the! savages, ' the paleface is a woman ; hetis not fit to die like a brave ! ' j ' Dogs ! ' replied Dick, his pride awakened by the insult, 'hy your tortures, and learn that a fears not nor recks what the Comanche dogs can do.' With jells the tormentors began their fiendish work. Eound and round the tree they circled, singing the death song, and hulking their tomahawks, with so perfect an accuracy that, while every veapon grazed his head, riot one ever broke the skin. Dick never flinched; and it was evident some severer trial of his courage must be attempted. Dry fuel was heaped round his feet and set fire to, while the braves yelled and gesticulated without the firey circle, which seemed to separate him from. the .world. Nature had .almost given way, when suddenly the burning brands were scattered aside, and in a mQment Kate, in the full bloom* of n-er-youth-ful beauty, was at his side. Without dismounting, she cut the cords which bound him, and thrusting a revolver into his hand, said hurriedly, 'Rest your hand on the saddle, and if I fall make for that clump of trees yonder.' Eor a time the savages seemed stupified by so daring a rescue, and the pair had got several yards of a start. Then with one impulse they rushed towards their rifles, which had been piled before beginning the torture, and would have fired had not the voice of their chief restrained them. ' Slay not the singing bird of the Y^ngees ; she will make music in the wigwam of a Comanche chief,' he exclaimed; and accordingly, without firing, the whole band rushed upon Kate and Dick. The swiftest runner was almost upon them, when Kate, coolly turning in her saddle, emptied two barrels of her six-shooter in his breast. 'My tenth scalp this season,' said she,- and the- next moment they were* in the shelter of the wood. Here Dick found he was among friends. Every, bush concealed a marksman, and such a volley was fired as made the Commanches decamp witiydjkgngjd, minus their chief ana |^B|k&|2£ftyes. <Then old Seth adDick's hand. out this to ' thank