Advance your standards, draw your willing swords.For me, the ransom of my bold attemptShall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face;But if I thrive, the gain of my attemptThe least of you shall share his part thereof.Sound drums and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully;God and St. George, Richmond and victory.—Shakespeare.
Advance your standards, draw your willing swords.For me, the ransom of my bold attemptShall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face;But if I thrive, the gain of my attemptThe least of you shall share his part thereof.Sound drums and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully;God and St. George, Richmond and victory.—Shakespeare.
Advance your standards, draw your willing swords.For me, the ransom of my bold attemptShall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face;But if I thrive, the gain of my attemptThe least of you shall share his part thereof.Sound drums and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully;God and St. George, Richmond and victory.—Shakespeare.
Advance your standards, draw your willing swords.
For me, the ransom of my bold attempt
Shall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face;
But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt
The least of you shall share his part thereof.
Sound drums and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully;
God and St. George, Richmond and victory.—Shakespeare.
The Union army, having completed the bridge at Warsaw, had commenced their march toward Springfield. They had arrived at a point fifty miles from that place, when they were informed that a body of rebels still occupied that town. The Body-guard, under the command of the gallant Major Charles Zagonyi, were at once sent forward to dispersethe rebel band. It was reported that their number did not exceed four or five hundred. That of the Body-guard was one hundred and sixty.
On Thursday evening this enthusiastic squadron of Union troops started upon their march of fifty miles. Onward they rode, all the long night. The morning dawned, and they paused a few moments to refresh themselves and their wearied horses, which had nobly borne their riders forward toward that scene of deadly strife. While they were reposing, a horseman rode up and asked for Adjutant Hinton. The adjutant sprang forward at once, as he recognized in Johnson, one of the party who had visited him at Warsaw and then left in search of Alibamo and Captain Hayward.
"Have you any tidings of our friends?" asked Hinton, in an excited manner.
"Yes; they are now at Springfield. Captain Hayward is recovering, and Alibamo is with him. Fall-leaf and the brother of Alibamo are lurking near them, and will render all the assistance in their power. But I hope you will not delay long, as a moment may make a world of difference."
Hinton spoke a few words in a low tone to the major, who instantly sprang into his saddle, and commanded an advance.
Onward they dashed. They were just turning a sharp bend in the road, when they came suddenly upon a small party of mounted rebels, who were robbing the house of a Unionist. One of their number discovered the approaching guard, and shouted:
"Here come the d——d Dutch!"
The rebels sprang into their saddles, and an exciting chase begun. But the horses of the Body-guard, worn and jaded, could not overtake those of the rebels, which were fresh. The pursuit was kept up, however, for the next ten miles when Springfield was reached. Here Zagonyi commanded a halt. He was informed that the rebels were in line, and that their numbers wereeighteen hundredinfantry, andfour hundredcavalry. They held their position on the hill, just within the edge of a thick wood, about one mile west of the city, and near the Fair-Ground.
"Is Adjutant Hinton here?" asked this informant.
"Here," replied Hinton.
"I have a word for you, from William Nettleton!" He whispered a few words to the adjutant, who started, looked at his watch, and replied:
"It is half past two. For God's sake, major, let us on."
"Friends, soldiers!" said the major, addressing those around him, "we are here, in front of the enemy. Their numbers are sufficiently great to overwhelm us—almostfourteentoone. But we, soldiers, have been taunted with the name of 'gold-laced body-guard,' 'feather-bed soldiers,' 'kid-gloved gentry,' and such like degrading epithets. I will notcommandyou to face such terrible odds, butIwish to go, and if you will go with me, I will lead you. If any are sick, let them remain behind; if any one fears, let him also remain. Who will go with me?"
"Ishall go, if I do so alone!" cried the adjutant.
The words were scarcely uttered, when the shout went up:
"We all will go—none of us are sick or worn out!"
"Then forward!" cried Zagonyi, as he drove his spurs into his horse.
They rode rapidly along to the west of the city, and came dashing down the road which passed the Fair-Ground. It was the party who had been pursued by the guard, who had ridden up and given the alarm just at the fatal moment, and had thus saved the life of Hayward, by striking terror to the hearts of his murderous enemies.
The Body-guard came thundering on. They were compelled to charge through a narrow lane or road, on each side of which there was a dense oak wood. It was an excellent position for the formation of infantry lines, as it would be impossible for cavalry to advance among the trees. And besides this a rail fence flanked this road on either side, just at the edge of the grove. The rebel lines of infantry were formed on each side of this lane, about ten feet back from the fence. The trees afforded them protection, and as the guard charged through, a murderous fire was poured upon them. But, nothing daunted, they dashed onward. Their purpose was to gain the open field, which declined gradually toward the city, and was situated east of the road. In this field their principal lines of infantry and cavalry were formed. They had scarcely passed the wood when another obstacle to their rapid advance presented itself. A large wagon was placed directly across their path. The horses shied suddenly in passing this obstruction, and some of their riders were violently thrown; but with an extraordinary effort, they succeeded in regaining their seats. Finally a halt was made, and several of the daring spirits sprang from their horses, and commenced the work of tearing down the fence in order that the squadron might ride into the open field, and there form for a charge upon the rebel ranks.
During the whole of this time, the rebels were pouring forth a deadly fire upon the little band, and many of our gallant guard had bit the dust, while the wounded were to be seen on every side.
But, riding into the open field, the guard were formed into line at the base of the hill, near the small stream which is the head of Wilson's creek. On the right of the guard, and about one hundred yards distant, just at the edge of a large corn-field, were stationed four hundred of the rebel cavalry. At the brow of the hill, directly in front, and near the edge of the wood, was the line of rebel infantry, numbering eighteen hundred, all their available force having been brought to that point.
The eyes of Zagonyi glanced rapidly over this scene. Some thirty of his bold guard had already been stricken down, either killed or wounded. It was enough to appal the stoutest heart. But the major did not flinch—his followers were firm and confident.
"We can spare thirty men to charge their cavalry," said Zagonyi; "lieutenant, will you lead them?"
The officer addressed replied.
"Give me the men—thirty is sufficient!"
The men were soon detailed, merely changing front by breaking from the right of the line.
"Forward—trot—gallop!" The lieutenant had placed himself at the head of his little band, and with drawn sabres, and a wild shout, they rushed upon the foe. The rebel ranks were broken in an instant; the blows from the terrible weapons of the guard fell not in vain.
"No further help will be required in that quarter," shouted Zagonyi. "Now comesourwork. Draw sabres—forward—gallop—charge!"
A shout rang out upon the air: "For Fremont and the Union!" And on they went thundering up the hill. As they approached within a few yards of the rebel line, a terrible fire was poured upon them, but they faltered not. Some of the horses leaped wildly into the air, and then fell to earth dead, but their riders pressed forward.
The rebel ranks could not resist the thunder of this charge. In less than five minutes their lines were completely broken, and the terrified rebels were flying in every direction. Some took refuge in the woods, and fired from behind the trees, while now and then a squad would for a moment make a stand, but it would be quickly dispersed. In half an hour, all firing upon the battle-field had ceased. The rebels were entirely scattered, and were flying for their lives. Some had taken refuge in the city, and concealed themselves in the surrounding buildings.
Now commenced the charge through Springfield. Up and down the streets rode the guard, charging upon all squads of armed rebels, or pursuing them to the threshold of their own doors. Terror seized upon them all, and soon the Body-guard were masters, not only of the field, but of the city itself.
Then commenced the task of gathering together the Union dead and wounded. Seventeen bodies were found lifeless, and removed to the lower room of the new court-house, then used as the Union hospital, while some fifty were found seriously or slightly wounded, or announced as missing. Thus ended one of the most brilliant charges history has ever recorded.
The Conclusion
The Conclusion
I have no words—my voice is in my sword.Thou bloodier villain than terms can give thee out.Shakespeare.
I have no words—my voice is in my sword.Thou bloodier villain than terms can give thee out.Shakespeare.
I have no words—my voice is in my sword.Thou bloodier villain than terms can give thee out.Shakespeare.
I have no words—my voice is in my sword.
Thou bloodier villain than terms can give thee out.
Shakespeare.
After finding themselves so thoroughly vanquished at every hand, the panic-stricken rebels fled in every direction, with the utmost precipitation. Their infantry fled into the thick adjoining woods, and thus made their way to the wide spreading prairie beyond, while their cavalry, taking advantage of a moment when the Body-guard were most busily engaged with the infantry lines, sped across an adjoining field, and were soon beyond the reach of danger.
It was in consequence of the general confusion which ensued, that many of the most guilty and cowardly were enabled to effect their escape. This was especially the case with Branch.
At the moment of the explosion under the gallows, he determined not to fight, but to effect his escape with his victims. He urged forward the frightened cattle attached to the cart which contained Alibamo and the inanimate form of Miss Hayward. He proceeded to the western side of the enclosure, and tearing away the high board fence, emerged into the street. Here he beheld the battle raging in the distance, but was too far from the scene to anticipate any particular danger. He opened the fence opposite the place from that which he had left the Fair-Ground, and, driving into a thick wood beyond, soon struck a narrow path, just large enough to admit the passage of the cart. Now for the first time he turned to Alibamo, and said:
"What think you now, my fair one? Is Captain Branch foiled so easily?"
Alibamo did not reply. She held the insensible form of Miss Hayward in her arms, and was striving in every possible way to restore her to consciousness. At length she said:
"Branch, will you not pass me some water from that stream?"
"Will you have it in my cap? It is the only thing in which I can convey it to you!" replied Branch.
"No!" answered Alibamo. "Let us pause for a moment, and you can assist me in removing this dying maiden to the side of the stream. Perhaps the water, dripping cool and fresh upon her forehead will bring her back to consciousness."
"I shall not pause," replied Branch, as he reached the maiden his cap, which he had filled with water.
"You are a vile coward!" replied Alibamo. At this moment her eyes caught the glimpse of something moving among the thick brush near her. Alibamo gazed eagerly forward, as if endeavoring to satisfy herself, and then raising her voice so as to be distinctly heard by any person who might happen to be within several rods of her, she said:
"It is true that you arealone, Branch. Here are only two women to oppose you, and one of them is entirely helpless! And yet you fear!"
These words were scarcely spoken, when there was a rustling among the brush, and a dark form appeared.
"No, I amnotalone," replied Branch. "Look!"
At that instant six of the frightened horsemen, who were riding for their lives, came flashing up, and, reaching the cart, they halted. The dark form which had so suddenly appeared, had as suddenly vanished. It had been distinctly seen by Alibamo, although not by Branch.
As the party rode up, one of them said:
"Why, Branch, what are you doing with these beauties? And one of them unconscious, too."
"Taking them to a place of safety," was the crusty reply.
"You had better take them back to Springfield. The federals will not harm females."
"No—no! that is not my purpose. They are relatives of Union officers, and I intend to keep them as hostages for the safety of our friends."
"Where do you purpose taking them!"
"To the dwelling of Captain Rogers, on the edge of the prairie, just west of the Wilson's creek battle-ground."
Another slight noise was heard among the underbrush, and Alibamo made a significant motion to some person, or to some imaginary object, and then all was silent.
Miss Hayward had partially recovered under the cooling effects of the water with which Alibamo had been bathing her brow. She opened her eyes, and then, with a shudder, closed them again. At length she said in a feeble tone:
"O brother! press me closer to your heart; I am cold—very cold!"
"Miss Hayward, your brother yet lives, and will be with you soon!" whispered Alibamo, as she bent over the fast recovering maiden.
"Oh! yes, my brother must live—he does live!" cried Mamie, starting up.
"Who is your brother?" asked one of the party.
Miss Hayward gazed upon the questioner, but turning away, she hid her face in the bosom of Alibamo and wept.
"I will answer for her!" replied Alibamo. "He is an officer in the Union army. He was taken prisoner while endeavoring to rescue me, who also have been kept as ahostageby that villain, Branch. It was the intention of Gen. Price to release or exchange this young lady's brother, but, he, to gratify his own fiend-like propensities, was about to disobey the express orders of the general, and hang young Hayward."
A groan broke from Miss Hayward, but Alibamo quickly replied:
"Don't fear, darling, the Body-guard came just in time to rescue him, and he will soon be with us!"
"Are yousureof that?" asked one of the party.
"Iknowit will be so. There will be large parties sent in every direction, and you will be surely overtaken!" answered Alibamo.
"Let us forward, then," replied one of the rebels, his cheeks blenching with fear.
"Stay one moment," answered another. "Branch," he continued, "you have the reputation of a bad man. I shall not permit you to keep these ladies, if I can prevent it. Let me accompany them back to Springfield, and restore them to the arms of their friends!"
"Indeed!" replied Branch with bitterness. "You are very kind, and I have no doubt the ladies will thank you. But I do not understand exactlyhowyou are going to prevent me from doing as I please. Pray be good enough to explain."
"I will! Men, you are enemies to the federal soldiers only, not innocent women. Seize that cowardly captain, and I will return with the ladies, and restore them to their friends. It will benefit all those of our friends who——"
A ball, fired from the pistol of Branch, went crashing through the brain of the speaker, and he rolled from his horse a corpse.
"You see how far his interference has benefited him," said Branch, pointing to the dead body. "Are there any more who wish to share his fate?"
The party were silent. They were now ascending the sharp hill, or range of hills, which skirts the creek upon the north. Turning to the right, he proceeded onward, but observing he was not followed, he asked:
"Why do you halt?"
"Because we go in another direction."
"I command you to follow me," yelled Branch.
"We do not recognize your authority."
"You shall see it here," replied the infuriated captain, as he drew forth his revolver.
In an instant the five horsemen had leveled their rifles at his breast, and one of them said:
"Go your way, sir, and we will not molest you. Be careful how you interfere with us."
"Do as you please, cowards," replied Branch. He started on his way, while the horsemen proceeded down the hill at a rapid rate.
Alibamo bent forward, and whispered words to Mamie, which seemed to be those of hope, as the countenance of the latter brightened very much. Then, starting to her feet, while her frame quivered with excitement, she cried:
"I knew it would be so! Look there, Miss Hayward! Look there!"
"What do you mean?" yelled Branch.
"That you are foiled at last, fiend of darkness, that you are."
Let us return to Springfield.
The excitement endured by Hayward, together with the pain he suffered from the constant irritation of his wounds, and his loss of blood, were more than he could bear, and he sank to the earth, although he still retained his consciousness. Nettleton remained by his side, although Hayward urged him to join his brothers in the unequal contest.
"There ain't no occasion to do that!" said the brave fellow. "Them Body-guard will whip them darn skunks in less than three minutes, and besides some on 'em might come around you, and I calculate if they do, to make them smell brimstone."
The fight was over. Nettleton and William Margrave assisted Captain Hayward to the city, and secured a room for him in one of the houses occupied by a Union family. In a short time both Johnson and Adjutant Hinton joined him. The Indian was absent.
"Have you received any intelligence of my sister?" asked Hayward, in a trembling voice.
"Not yet, but Fall-leaf is absent, and I feel satisfied that he is with or near both your sister and mine," replied Margrave. "He will return with them very soon, I believe."
"Did you see or hear anything of Branch?" asked Hayward.
"After the smoke from the explosion had cleared away, I went in search of the ladies, but they had disappeared. The cart had been removed, and my opinion is that Branch has driven off with our sisters. He cannot advance very rapidly with his ox-team, and, if Fall-leaf is on his track, he will return and inform us as soon as he has ascertained the direction they have taken."
"Have the horses saddled, and at the door. If possible get fresh ones," said Hayward. "I shall follow my sister."
"You cannot do it, captain, you are too ill!"
"Who talks of being ill, at such a time as this? My sister is in the hands of that ruffian Branch, and yours too, Margrave!Ishould go forward if I was dying!"
At this moment Fall-leaf rushed into the room, and cried:
"Follow—come!"
"Come—no questions," cried Hayward.
In an instant Hayward, Hinton, Johnson, Nettleton, Margrave, and the Indian, were in their saddles, and darted off at their utmost speed, on the road toward the famous Wilson's creek battle-ground. The Indian took the lead.
They ascended the sharp hill which borders Wilson's creek, and when on its summit, could plainly see all the surrounding objects in the valley below. After a moment's inspection they turned to the right, and struck off through a narrow path which ran along the mountain ridge. They had proceeded about two miles, when the Indian paused and said:
"Hark!"
The party listened attentively, and distinctly heard the sound of the rumbling cart.
"Quick! Forward!" cried Hayward, as he dashed onward. In a few moments they came in sight of the cart, and there, sure enough, were seated the sister of Hayward and the maiden, Alibamo.
A cry of joy broke from the lips of Margrave. It was heard by Branch. The villain for a moment was confused, but it was no time for delay. He seized Miss Hayward in his arms, and, springing from the cart, ran along with her as easily as if she had been an infant.
Alibamo sprang into her brother's arms, with a cry of rapture, but he only paused a moment. Branch ran directly toward a narrow pathway, which was the only passage to the valley below, and which wound down the steep by the side of a sharp, rocky ledge. Beneath this ledge was a frightful chasm, at the bottom of which were a hundred sharp rocks, which had been broken off the height, and fallen into the depths below.
"Ah! I will triumph yet!" cried Branch, as he reached the ledge, and was about to spring down the narrow pathway. But, Fall-leaf confronted him, and Branch sprang back.
"Ah! the rock—the precipice!" he cried, and darting for the ledge he stood upon its very verge.
As Hayward and his friends approached, Branch raised the helpless maiden high over his head, and leaning forward he cried:
"If you advance another step, Hayward, or permit any of your party to do so, I will hurl your sister into the depths below, and thus dash her to pieces!"
Hayward was within a few feet of Branch, but he stopped instantly.
"What is to be done?" asked Hinton, as he shuddered at the scene before him.
"I will tellyouwhat is to be done, Hayward," cried Branch. "I holdyouin my power, and I shall dictate my own terms."
"What are they?" asked Hayward.
"Let the entire party, excepting yourself withdraw some distance to the rear, and then swear by your honor that I shall not be molested, and shall be permitted to go as I please, and I will restore your sister. If you do not, she shall perish, even if I go with her!"
The villain, who supposed his proposition would be readily accepted, had been partially thrown off his guard. With a cry of
"Brother!" Mamie sprang suddenly to the ground. In doing so, she had collected all her strength, and, as she sprang, the concussion had thrown Branch backward, and he was falling over the ledge. He caught a small sapling in his fall, and there the villain hung, suspended over this dreadful gulf, only by the frail twig. He turned upward an imploring glance, but did not speak. He gazed below, and a thrill of terror shook his frame.
"Your hour has come!" cried Hayward, as he approached the edge of the cliff.
"No! no! me—me!" cried the Indian, stepping forward.
"Oh! save me!" groaned Branch.
"Pray," said Hayward, as he saw the tomahawk of the Indian raised high in the air.
"Save me—save—" Branch spoke no more.
The tomahawk had descended and severed the frail twig, to which Branch was clinging. A yell of terror rose upon the air, as Branch went whirling down, and then a dull, heavy thump was heard and all was still.
Hayward pressed his lips upon his sister's forehead, and murmured,
"The dream, darling—the dream!"
"O brother," she sobbed, "I cannot speak—I am so happy!"
Margrave had not been idle. He had taken a full share of embraces, and had handed Alibamo over to Adjutant Hinton, who appeared rather to relish that luxury, himself. Johnson was a silent spectator, but Nettleton was dancing with perfect ecstacy, as he exclaimed:
"Well, I'm about the happiest darn skunk that ever did live!"
"Fall-leaf, have you nothing to say?" asked Hayward.
"Me kill—ugh!" he pointed toward the rocks below, and seemed perfectly satisfied.
"Bad man—muchbad!" and he strode away up the path.
Night was fast approaching, and the happily united friends set out for Springfield, which they reached in safety.
Captain Hayward recovered from his wounds, and is still engaged in fighting his country's battles, while his lovely sister is happy in her home upon the lake.
Adjutant Hinton is in the same regiment with Hayward, while Alibamo—notAlibamo Margrave, but AlibamoHinton, is adorning her husband's elegant home in New York, where she is its light and joy. She only awaits the return of Harry to render her perfectly happy.
Nettleton thinks he is becoming less of a "skunk" every day, but still insists on remaining with Haywood, as his "body-guard." Fall-leaf still serves the army.
AU REVOIR.
AMERICAN TALES.Large 8vo.,double columns,Illuminated cover,each issue complete!A series of original and choiceRomances of the War and of the Border, prepared by the best authors and supplied at the very low price of FIFTEEN CENTS EACH.No. 9, READY JULY 12th.THE PRISONER OF THE MILL;OR,CAPTAIN HAYWARD'S "BODY GUARD."By the Author of "The Border Spy."The author has here given us a story of the Gasconade country, full of all that is novel in war, exciting in adventure and stirring in love. It revives several of the best characters first introduced in his "Border Spy." The work is very pleasing and thoroughly good as a transcript of the field in the West.No. 1.—ON THE PLAINS: or, The Race for Life.A story of adventure among the Black Hills. This romance reads like a transcript from life. It is exciting in its incidents of hunters' and trappers' experience, of Indian life and warfare, and ofLOVE, for there is a woman in the case, around whom centers a novel interest. It is one of the best border stories recently produced.No. 2.—THE BORDER SPY; or, the Beautiful Captive of the Rebel Camp.A story of the War. By Lieutenant-Colonel Hazeltine, formerly Captain Co. A., Fremont's Guard. The title of this book implies its character. It is a stirring story of the war in the Osage country, in which the author has introduced the rebel General Price, and other celebrated characters, as well as a Delaware Indian, who plays a leading part.No. 3.—THE HERMIT OF THE COLORADO HILLS: A Romance of the Pampas.By Wm. H. Bushnell. A peculiar but striking story of the Texan Pampas, introducing the wild life of the Plains, the great cattle droves of the herdsmen, the savage Comanche Indians, and the strange being, the Hermit of the Hills—a character not altogether fictitious. There is also in the story, as a leading feature, the element of female interest. The romance is one of its popular author's best productions.No. 4.—FREE TRAPPERS' PASS; or, the Gold-Seeker's Daughter.By Wm. R. Eyster. An exciting romance, full of the interest of western adventure, and so forcibly written that the reader's interest can not flag a moment through all the incidents of capture, flight, pursuit and peril.No. 5.—BOB BRANT, PATRIOT AND SPY: A Tale of the War in the West.By Edward Willett. This exciting tale of scouting life in the West is full of action, presenting scenes which will be recognized by many who have served in the glorious army of General Grant; some of the characters, also, are well known in connection with the secret service of the army of the Cumberland. The dangers and escapes of Bob Brant, during the exciting period previous to the fall of Forts Henry and Donelson, are thrilling, but natural and life-like.No. 6.—THE GUERRILLAS OF THE OSAGE; or the Price of Loyalty on the Border.By Stephen Holmes, Jr. The terrors of life on the border during the first year of the Great Rebellion are vividly delineated in this exciting story. It introduces us to the Missouri "jayhawkers," "bushwhackers," or "guerrillas," as they are variously termed—men who have rendered their names synonymous with deeds of cruelty and crime. The Price of Loyalty is illustrated in the fortunes of a Unionist and his lovely wife, whose portraiture produces a powerful impression on the reader's mind.No. 7.—OLD BILL WOODWORTH: Scout of the Cumberland.By the Author of "Bob Brant." One of the most popular books of the day is Mr. Willett's "Bob Brant, Patriot and Spy." This second work from his pen, resuming the character of the Old Scout of the Cumberland, makes him the leading actor of one of the most exciting and exhilarating romances of the war yet produced. While it is exceedingly enjoyable as a story, it is also perfect as a picture of life and experience in Southern Tennessee.No. 8.—THE ORONOCO CHIEF; or, the Fortunes of a Diamond Locket.A story of the times of Bolivar. By J. Thomas Warren. This fine production has in it enough of adventure, war, love and side drama to satisfy the most eager seeker after novelties. Yet, it is so perfectly life-like, that it is, after all, seemingly but a series of exciting adventures, in which Bolivar's men play a creditable part. It is a charming story, charmingly told.Sold by all Newsdealers; or, sent,post-paid, on receipt of price, FIFTEEN CENTS.THE AMERICAN NEWS CO., Publishers' Agents,121 NASSAU STREET, N. Y.
AMERICAN TALES.
Large 8vo.,double columns,Illuminated cover,each issue complete!
A series of original and choiceRomances of the War and of the Border, prepared by the best authors and supplied at the very low price of FIFTEEN CENTS EACH.
No. 9, READY JULY 12th.
THE PRISONER OF THE MILL;
OR,
CAPTAIN HAYWARD'S "BODY GUARD."
By the Author of "The Border Spy."
The author has here given us a story of the Gasconade country, full of all that is novel in war, exciting in adventure and stirring in love. It revives several of the best characters first introduced in his "Border Spy." The work is very pleasing and thoroughly good as a transcript of the field in the West.
The author has here given us a story of the Gasconade country, full of all that is novel in war, exciting in adventure and stirring in love. It revives several of the best characters first introduced in his "Border Spy." The work is very pleasing and thoroughly good as a transcript of the field in the West.
No. 1.—ON THE PLAINS: or, The Race for Life.A story of adventure among the Black Hills. This romance reads like a transcript from life. It is exciting in its incidents of hunters' and trappers' experience, of Indian life and warfare, and ofLOVE, for there is a woman in the case, around whom centers a novel interest. It is one of the best border stories recently produced.
No. 2.—THE BORDER SPY; or, the Beautiful Captive of the Rebel Camp.A story of the War. By Lieutenant-Colonel Hazeltine, formerly Captain Co. A., Fremont's Guard. The title of this book implies its character. It is a stirring story of the war in the Osage country, in which the author has introduced the rebel General Price, and other celebrated characters, as well as a Delaware Indian, who plays a leading part.
No. 3.—THE HERMIT OF THE COLORADO HILLS: A Romance of the Pampas.By Wm. H. Bushnell. A peculiar but striking story of the Texan Pampas, introducing the wild life of the Plains, the great cattle droves of the herdsmen, the savage Comanche Indians, and the strange being, the Hermit of the Hills—a character not altogether fictitious. There is also in the story, as a leading feature, the element of female interest. The romance is one of its popular author's best productions.
No. 4.—FREE TRAPPERS' PASS; or, the Gold-Seeker's Daughter.By Wm. R. Eyster. An exciting romance, full of the interest of western adventure, and so forcibly written that the reader's interest can not flag a moment through all the incidents of capture, flight, pursuit and peril.
No. 5.—BOB BRANT, PATRIOT AND SPY: A Tale of the War in the West.By Edward Willett. This exciting tale of scouting life in the West is full of action, presenting scenes which will be recognized by many who have served in the glorious army of General Grant; some of the characters, also, are well known in connection with the secret service of the army of the Cumberland. The dangers and escapes of Bob Brant, during the exciting period previous to the fall of Forts Henry and Donelson, are thrilling, but natural and life-like.
No. 6.—THE GUERRILLAS OF THE OSAGE; or the Price of Loyalty on the Border.By Stephen Holmes, Jr. The terrors of life on the border during the first year of the Great Rebellion are vividly delineated in this exciting story. It introduces us to the Missouri "jayhawkers," "bushwhackers," or "guerrillas," as they are variously termed—men who have rendered their names synonymous with deeds of cruelty and crime. The Price of Loyalty is illustrated in the fortunes of a Unionist and his lovely wife, whose portraiture produces a powerful impression on the reader's mind.
No. 7.—OLD BILL WOODWORTH: Scout of the Cumberland.By the Author of "Bob Brant." One of the most popular books of the day is Mr. Willett's "Bob Brant, Patriot and Spy." This second work from his pen, resuming the character of the Old Scout of the Cumberland, makes him the leading actor of one of the most exciting and exhilarating romances of the war yet produced. While it is exceedingly enjoyable as a story, it is also perfect as a picture of life and experience in Southern Tennessee.
No. 8.—THE ORONOCO CHIEF; or, the Fortunes of a Diamond Locket.A story of the times of Bolivar. By J. Thomas Warren. This fine production has in it enough of adventure, war, love and side drama to satisfy the most eager seeker after novelties. Yet, it is so perfectly life-like, that it is, after all, seemingly but a series of exciting adventures, in which Bolivar's men play a creditable part. It is a charming story, charmingly told.
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