A Desperate Chance; Or, The Wizard Tramp's Revelation, a Thrilling Narrative — John Shaqi
A Desperate Chance; Or, The Wizard Tramp's Revelation, a Thrilling NarrativeOld Sleuth
General
A Desperate Chance; Or, The Wizard Tramp's Revelation, a Thrilling Narrative
Old Sleuth
Adventure stories; Tramps -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
Desmond had become a very expert woodsman; he and Brooks had been
chased by Indians several times and had exchanged shots with one band.
They knew a cover in a crevice in the wall of rock which ran up abruptly
each side of the gulch; from this spot they could survey and also make a
good fight in an emergency. They had good weapons, plenty of ammunition,
and what was more, coolness, skill, and courage. Desmond, especially,
was a very cool-headed chap in times of danger; the use of firearms was
not new to him, nor was the woodsman life altogether a novelty, for he
had been raised in a very wild and desolate mountain region.
Quickly they stole to cover, although they believed it possible that
they might have been seen, for they had absolute proof, well known to
woodsmen, that if there were foes in the vicinity they had been
discovered. Once in their covert they lay low, and a few moments passed,
when they beheld a solitary figure advancing slowly and very cautiously
up the gulch, and as the figure came in the light of the fire Desmond,
whose eyesight was very keen, said:
"It's a white man; he looks like a hunter; we will wait a moment or two,
but I guess it is all right."
The figure, meantime, with rifle poised, advanced very slowly and
finally stood fully revealed close to the fire, and indeed he was a
white man of strong and vigorous frame.
"I'll go and meet him," said Desmond; "you lay low here, rifle in hand
ready to shoot in case he proves an enemy."
"All right, lad, go ahead."
Desmond stepped from his hiding-place and advanced toward the fire. The
stranger saw him, still held his position ready for offense or defense,
and permitted Desmond to approach, and soon he discerned that the lad
was a white man and he called:
"Hail, friend!"
"Hail, to you," replied the lad.
The two men approached and shook hands. The hunter was a splendid
specimen of physical manhood, and his face indicated honesty and
good-nature.
"Are you alone here, lad?"
"No."
"Where's your comrade?"
Desmond made a sign, and Brooks stepped forth from the crevice and
approached the fire.
"Hail, friend," said the stranger hunter.
Brooks answered the salutation, the two men shook hands and the stranger
said;
"What may be your business out here?"
"We'll talk of that later on; but, stranger, you took great chances."
"I did?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"In approaching the fire you were exposed; suppose the fire had been
kindled by Indians?"
The woodsman laughed, and said:
"I knew it was not an Indian's fire."
"You did?"
"Yes."
"How is that?"
"They don't create such a big blaze. I knew white men were around, and
men whom I need not fear, but I was on my guard all the same."
"We could have dropped you off."
"Well, yes, but out here we have to take chances, and it was necessary
for me to do so."
"It was?"
"Yes."
"How so?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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