Dusky Dick: or, Old Toby Castor's great campaign A story of the last Sioux outbreak

"Dusky Dick--what can he want here, I wonder?" and there was cadence of mingled uneasiness and dislike perceptible in the old man's tones that told but too plainly the advancing figure was not that of a welcome or respected guest.

The first speaker was an old man, whose head was frosted by the snows of over half a century and whose form--still athletic and supple--was beginning to bow beneath the weight of years. An honest, open face was that of old Edward Wilson; a true index of his heart.

He was sitting in the doorway of his humble log cabin, smoking the well-blackened pipe as a dessert to supper, just finished. But as he spoke the last words, he roused himself up and stood with crossed arms in the doorway, as though he would fain bar the intruder out, who was now within a few paces of the building.

The form of this man was clothed in a rough garb of tanned skin and woolen stuff, despite the warm weather, and a broad-brimmed slouched hat rested upon his head, concealing the upper portion of his face from casual view. A long barreled rifle rested carelessly in the hollow of his left arm, while the haft of a knife, and a revolver butt peeped from the belt at his waist.

"Good evenin', Wilson, and the same to you, Miss Annie," he uttered in a strong clear voice, as he half paused, and then with a careless gesture pushed the hat away from his brow.

The clear mellow light of the full moon shone down upon him, and fairly revealed his features. A glance at them may not be amiss, as this worthy is destined to figure somewhat prominently in our narrative.

At the first glance, a strange peculiarity about him would attract the gaze, and leave an unpleasant impression upon the mind of the beholder. And yet it was not that the man was so hideous, in features.

But there was a strange tint to his entire face and neck that involuntarily repelled one. And from this had come the sobriquet, known far and wide throughout the western country of DUSKY DICK.

Indeed, more than one person who was well acquainted with him, would have been puzzled to have told whether he ever had any other name, or if this was not the one by which he had been christened, supposing that ceremony had ever been performed. And Morgan seemed to be rather proud of the title, than otherwise.

In some way he had been badly burned by an explosion of powder, and though no other scars were perceptible, this bluish tinge caused by the burned powder penetrating the skin, remained clear and distinct. The dye did not fade as he grew older, but seemed to deepen and show brighter.

His features were regular and clear cut; his face was kept smooth shorn, though the black, Indian-like hair hung far down his shoulders. There were not a few who secretly asserted that he came by this last trait fairly, and wondered only that he had not the curved nose and high cheek-bones as well.

His black eyes were of a fair size, but dull and sleepy looking, save when he was angered; then one was strangely reminded of an infuriated serpent, so wickedly did they flash and scintillate. In form he was tall, broad-shouldered and well built, being somewhat noted for his skill in the use of weapons, fleetness of foot and prowess as a wood-ranger.

"Good-evening, Dick," coldly uttered the settler in reply, evidently not caring to encourage the man, as he still stood in the narrow doorway, without a hint for the other to enter.

"Heard the news?" added Dusky Dick, as a slight frown crossed his face, and a smoldering glow lit up his dark eyes.

"No--I don't know as I have. What is it?" listlessly responded Wilson as he deliberately crushed up some "natural leaf," and crammed it into the wide-mouthed pipe-bowl. "Bring me a coal, Annie."

"'Bout the red-skins. They've got thar backs up at last and thar's goin' to be the tallest kind of a muss, afore the thing's over," and there seemed to be a faint tinge of exultation in the tones of the speaker, that did not escape the keen witted borderer.

"How is it that you know so much of their feelings, Dusky Dick? A body might almost think you were one of them, by the way you talk."

Morgan gave vent to a low laugh; deep, smooth and mellow, but yet filled with a peculiar meaning. Then he replied:

"I travel fur and keep my ears open, neighbor, as a man must needs to in these troubled times, and in a new country. I have kivered nigh onto fifty miles to-day, since sun-up. I stopped here to tell you the news. If you think it's wuth offerin' a feller a cheer, and a bite of somethin' to eat, I'll tell you it all. If not, then we'll call it quits and I'll go furder."

"Come in--I did not think," added Wilson, a little abashed, for border hospitality is proverbial. "Annie, give him what we have. Fall to, friend, and welcome."

With a nod toward Mrs. Wilson who was seated at the further end of the rude apartment, quietly knitting, Dusky Dick took a seat at the table and helped himself liberally to the plain though palatable viands that Annie hastened to replace upon the table. The girl then ignited a rude lamp, and retreated to the side of her mother.

We do not intend describing the building; most of our readers have seen these cabins, either in reality or through the medium of print. It was a regular frontier cabin, made of logs roughly hewn, "chinked" with billets of wood, daubed over with stiffened clay. The walls were unpapered, and the furniture of the rudest description, the majority being "home made;" the ax and auger being the principal tools used.

But one of the inmates at least deserves more than a passing notice as she will figure quite prominently before the reader in this tale of border life and trials. That one is Annie Wilson.

Barely five feet in hight, she was a model of feminine grace and beauty, tempered and strengthened by the life of freedom and health-giving exercise of the past two years. Her form had filled and rounded to superb symmetry, her cheek glowed with the hue of health and spirits; at eighteen, she was a woman, in the truest sense of the word.

Her hair was of a rich golden brown, her eyes, large and lustrous, were deeply blue; her nose, of a faintly Roman type, gave a decisive expression to her countenance, that was softened by the small, ruby-lipped mouth, from which gleamed twin rows of pearly teeth whenever she smiled, and caused a cunning dimple to play upon the softly-rounded chin.

Dusky Dick ate voraciously, but yet found time to cast more than one admiring glance toward the border beauty, which were by no means welcome, judging from the scornful turn of the bright red lips, and the flashing of her blue eyes as the maiden bent over some rough mending. Then Morgan arose and approached the settler, who was still smoking.

"You don't ask me the news," he uttered, in a disagreeable tone as he squatted down upon the doorstep.

"I knew you'd tell it without," was the quiet reply.

"Yes, that's what I stopped fer. The Sioux are goin' to raise partic'lar Cain 'fore long."

"Are you sure?"

"I hed it from thar own lips," was the confident reply.

"You seem to be very thick with them, Dick. Some might think it strange they should tell you this, unless you were in with them thicker than an honest man should be," and the settler gazed keenly at his visitor.

"They'd best not say so in my hearin'," muttered Morgan with an ominous scowl. "But I've al'ays acted on the square with 'em, and so they give me the hint. It's been brewin' for a long time, and they've made up thar minds not to stand any more of this everlastin' cheatin'. But never mind that jest now. I had other motives in stoppin' here," and Dusky Dick cast a sidelong glance at the sturdy settler; a glance that had in it not a little uneasiness.

"If there is any thing else that I should know, Dick Morgan, now's the time to say it."

"What d' you intend doin', anyhow?"

"About what?"

"Why--the Injuns, o' course."

"They will not trouble me--anyhow, I shall stay here until I am more sure of what they intend doing. I won't leave my property without good cause."

"You'll git rubbed out, then, shore. You remember Sloan Young? You turned him out o' doors once, because he was drunk--"

"Because he insulted the women, the dirty half-breed," angrily interjected Wilson.