Deadwood Dicks Doom | Page 6

die -- they all shall die, for Red Hatchet has sworn to add new notches to the council-pole-records of the death of those who drove him and his tribe forth from Sequoy even if he has to hire it done. Oh! how Red Hatchet hates yonder settlement of pale-faces!"
"And why this hatred, red-man? Why this desire to exterminate the people in yonder town?" a voice asked, so near to the old chief, that he turned with a startled growl, and beheld Not what might have been correctly termed a man, but more, appropriately a human wild beast, for it had all the appearance of a wild animal, with the dwarfed shape of man. The face was entirely covered with hair, the head was hatless, the dwarfed, hump-backed figure was clad in ragged dirty garments; the nails upon the fingers were long and like the talons of some wild bird.
In the eyes there burnt a wild unnatural fire, and the hair upon the head stood in all directions, making the head appear double its real size.
Red Hatchet gave vent to a startled grunt at sight of this strange being; indeed, who wouldn't for it was not an object calculated to inspire any one with the bravest feelings.
"Ugh! debbil!" the chief uttered, for that was the nearest thing he could compare the intruder to.
"Yes, devil!" the hairy being replied-- "Old Scavenger, the devil-avenger -- the devil dwarf. But, the red chief need not fear. Scavenger harms none but the treacherous whites-those of his own blood and color. The red chief also hates the pale-faces?"
"Ugh! yes -- hate 'em because they drove the red-man from his village yonder."
"I understand -- I understand," Old Scavenger assented. "They have wronged me, too and I madly hate 'em all. I have registered an oath to spare none-to cut out the hearts of every white devil I meet. Ha! ha! they thought when they all united to strike me a last blow, that it would kill me, but it only hardened my heart against 'em. Did the Red Hatchet ever see the heart of a pale-face?"
And as he spoke the Demon Dwarf drew from his hunting sack a bloody withered piece of human flesh -- a human heart, indeed -- and held it aloft with a demoniac peal of laughter.
"That is the heart of the false woman who wedded me for my gold, and deserted me and my kit, when she had secured it. Oho! but I hunted her down to death, though, and after they had buried her, thinking to cheat me out of my vengeance, I dug her up and secured my trophy. Ha! ha! the Dwarf's enough for 'em - the Dwarf's enough for 'em!"
Red Hatchet's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.
"Dwarf big heap brave," he said. "Red Hatchet once great brave, but his limbs no longer strong for war-path. He can only meditate vengeance upon his enemies, instead of performing it."
"Red Hatchet should get Old Scavenger to strike for him. When he strikes he strikes to avenge."
"Red Hatchet has no gold, or he would readily pay the Dwarf Avenger to add notches to his council-pole in yonder town."
"Ha! ha! it is not money I want. I have gold in plenty. But I saw a jewel belonging to Red Hatchet that I would wade through fire or blood to possess -- ay, I'd depopulate yonder town until not a pale-face dog remained to usurp Red Hatchet's rights!"
"If the Devil Dwarf will do this, Red Hatchet will give him his daughter-if it is to her the pale-face refers."
"To her and none other. Swear to give the girl to me to do with as I please, and I will agree that for every person now in yonder town, a death notch shall be made."
"Red Hatchet agrees. When he can count the death notches of all his sworn enemies, and is free to go back to his once pretty village, he will deliver Siska to the Devil Dwarf to do with as he pleases."
"Then call the girl. We will tap a vein in her arm, and seal this compact with a draught of her blood!" the avenger said.
And an hour later the act was carried out to the letter.
Death Notch was doomed!

CHAPTER III.
THE STRANGERS SING.
HANK SHAKESPEARE was one of the ruling spirits of Death Notch, inasmuch as he was the bully over all, and always ripe for a quarrel or a spree.
One by one he had worsted each of the residents of the town, down to the captain, Piute Dave, in a fair and square fight, and that fact had by no means lessened his esteem of his own prowess, so that he was never backward about waltzing right into a quarrel.
His word, next to that of Piute Dave, was regarded as law, and the majority of the roughs