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An Apache Princess A Tale of the Indian Frontier   By: (1844-1933)

Book cover

First Page:

[Illustration: THE FIGHT IN THE CAÑON]

AN APACHE PRINCESS

A Tale of the Indian Frontier

BY

GENERAL CHARLES KING

AUTHOR OF "A DAUGHTER OF THE SIOUX," "THE COLONEL'S DAUGHTER," "FORT FRAYNE," "AN ARMY WIFE," ETC., ETC.

ILLUSTRATIONS BY

FREDERIC REMINGTON

and

EDWIN WILLARD DEMING

NEW YORK THE HOBART COMPANY 1903

COPYRIGHT, 1903, BY THE HOBART COMPANY.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

THE MEETING BY THE WATERS,

CHAPTER II

SCOT VERSUS SAXON,

CHAPTER III

MOCCASIN TRACKS,

CHAPTER IV

A STRICKEN SENTRY,

CHAPTER V

THE CAPTAIN'S DEFIANCE,

CHAPTER VI

A FIND IN THE SANDS,

CHAPTER VII

"WOMAN WALK IN THE NIGHT,"

CHAPTER VIII

"APACHE KNIVES DIG DEEP,"

CHAPTER IX

A CARPET KNIGHT, INDEED,

CHAPTER X

"WOMAN WALK IN THE NIGHT" AGAIN,

CHAPTER XI

A STOP BY WIRE,

CHAPTER XII

FIRE!

CHAPTER XIII

WHOSE LETTERS?

CHAPTER XIV

AUNT JANET BRAVED,

CHAPTER XV

A CALL FOR HELP,

CHAPTER XVI

A RETURN TO COMMAND,

CHAPTER XVII

A STRANGE COMING,

CHAPTER XVIII

A STRANGER GOING,

CHAPTER XIX

BESIEGED,

CHAPTER XX

WHERE IS ANGELA?

CHAPTER XXI

OUR VANISHED PRINCESS,

CHAPTER XXII

SUSPENSE,

CHAPTER XXIII

AN APACHE QUEEN,

CHAPTER XXIV

THE MEETING AT SANDY,

CHAPTER XXV

RESCUE REQUITED,

CHAPTER XXVI

"WOMAN WALK NO MORE,"

CHAPTER XXVII

THE PARTING BY THE WATERS,

L'ENVOI

ILLUSTRATIONS

FRONTISPIECE

"NOW HALTING, DROPPING ON ONE KNEE TO FIRE,"

"BLAKELY LED 'EM ACROSS NO. 4'S POST,"

THE FIGHT IN THE CAÑON,

"INDIAN SIGNALS BEYOND POSSIBILITY OF A DOUBT,"

"THEN SLOWLY, THEY SAW HER RAISE HER RIGHT HAND, STILL CAUTIOUSLY HOLDING THE LITTLE MIRROR,"

"THEY HUSTLED HER PONY INTO A RAVINE,"

"NATZIE WRENCHED HER HAND FROM THAT OF BLAKELY, AND WITH THE SPRING OF A TIGRESS BOUNDED AWAY,"

AN APACHE PRINCESS

CHAPTER I

THE MEETING BY THE WATERS

Under the willows at the edge of the pool a young girl sat daydreaming, though the day was nearly done. All in the valley was wrapped in shadow, though the cliffs and turrets across the stream were resplendent in a radiance of slanting sunshine. Not a cloud tempered the fierce glare of the arching heavens or softened the sharp outline of neighboring peak or distant mountain chain. Not a whisper of breeze stirred the drooping foliage along the sandy shores or ruffled the liquid mirror surface. Not a sound, save drowsy hum of beetle or soft murmur of rippling waters, among the pebbly shallows below, broke the vast silence of the scene. The snow cap, gleaming at the northern horizon, lay one hundred miles away and looked but an easy one day march. The black upheavals of the Matitzal, barring the southward valley, stood sullen and frowning along the Verde, jealous of the westward range that threw their rugged gorges into early shade. Above and below the still and placid pool and but a few miles distant, the pine fringed, rocky hillsides came shouldering close to the stream, but fell away, forming a deep, semicircular basin toward the west, at the hub of which stood bolt upright a tall, snowy flagstaff, its shred of bunting hanging limp and lifeless from the peak, and in the dull, dirt colored buildings of adobe, ranged in rigid lines about the dull brown, flat topped mesa , a thousand yards up stream above the pool, drowsed a little band of martial exiles, stationed here to keep the peace 'twixt scattered settlers and swarthy, swarming Apaches... Continue reading book >>




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