The Hunter Hercules, or, The Champion Rider of the Plains: A Romance of the Prairies

A ROMANCE OF THE PRAIRIES.
BY HARRY ST. GEORGE.
NEW YORK. BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, 98 WILLIAM STREET.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by FRANK STARR & CO., In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
It was a beautiful scene. Not a cloud marred the vast blue dome of heaven. Autumn reigned supreme in the Lone Star State, where brave Houston fought, and valiant Bowie fell at the Alamo. Near the Comanche ground on the far north-western border of the State we would bring the reader on this bright, cheerful morning in October.
The prairie which, a month or two before, had presented a beautiful aspect of flowers and green grass, had been literally baked to a rich brown color, and now, moved by the breeze that was blowing the long, dry grass, looked for all the world like the waves of the ocean or an inland sea.
Riding leisurely across the prairie was a young man of about twenty-two or three. He wore a complete suit of fine buck-skin, which, it was plainly apparent, had been made by a “regular” tailor, for it bore none of the marks which almost always distinguish the clothes of the old trapper.
The suit was beautifully made and ornamented, and truly became the fine form of the owner. The head-covering of the young equestrian was a large felt, which kept the sun from his face and might prove almost as effective as an umbrella, in case of a shower.
The face underneath the hat was a resolute one.
The eyes were gray and piercing; the nose, rather large and slightly inclined to the Roman, but was perfect for all that; the cheek-bones high and the mouth firm.
On his upper lip, the rider sported a fine mustache, and taken altogether, he was a very “good-looking fellow.”
The form of the young hunter was not large, but there appeared to be a vast amount of strength in that well-knit frame.