Roving Jack, The Pirate Hunter — page 11: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ROVING JACK, THE PIRATE HUNTER. 7 her fine, larce blue eyes sparkled with mirth and enioyment; her dimply, cherry lips were curved in such a witching smile as might have tempted the aternest ascetic with its sweetness; while on her pure smooth cheek the excitement and exercise of play had deepened the clear rose-blush into a rich glow of warm crimson. “ Qh, Jack, you tiresome boy! Where have you heen?” cried the girl, in a pleasant tone. ‘You promised to come early. We have had such rare good fun. Andwhat is this? An eagle, I declare !” “air princess,’ said Jack, gracefully bending an his knee, “ your own true knight, who is ever ready to go through earth, air, fire or water in your gexvice, has, in accordance with his vow, sought out your audacious and monstrous foe, the ruthless Gestroyer of your innocent favourite ; he has fought and conquered, and returned to lay the trophy of bis victory at your feet, and to claim the reward of his devotion,” ack’s foster sister threw her arms about his neck, and kissed him affectionately. “You dear little stupid,” cried she, laughing; “but you don’t mean to say you killed the monster yourself?” “But he did though, Violet,” rejoined Hal, ‘Sat the risk of his own life.” “What's that, an eagle?” asked a tall, stout lad, boisterously pushing his way through the admiring crowd. ‘‘ But what a little one! You just hearken here; I once killed one forty times bigger than that ; I found his eyrie on the top of a crag, I don’t know how many thousand feet high. Just as I was seizing the nestlings, down swooped the old eagle, and carried me off through the air in his talons——’ “‘ Carried you?” “Yes; Iwas only a small boy at the time, not more than five or six, you see. It was a pretty acrape ; I'd no sort 0’ weapon with me, and there 4, was, up in the clouds, some miles above the sea.” © Now, Ben Bouncer, none o’ your crams,” said *‘ Let him alone,” rejoined Jack, with a grin, “Well, as I was saying, being some twenty miles ebove the clouds, and having not so much as a pocket. knife with me, I cast about to find some means of getting off the horns—or rather, I should gay, out of the claws—of my dilemma; I'd a bit of top-string in my pocket, and I made a running noose with it, and slipped it over the beast of a bizd’s neck, and drew it tight.” * As you do the long bow now.” What do ye say about the long bow? Well, Wl tell you-what I once did with my bow and arrows. ® * Stick to the eagle, Ben.” “So I did, like:a leech, and L pulled the string till I throttled him, then he let me go, but I put my arms round his body, and kept his wings stretched out, and we went whirling down and down and down till I lighted on the main truck of & man-o’-war. I soon scrambled’ on deck, and, hang me, if the skipper didn’t want to press me to join the crew; but I jumped overboard, and, being fn the mid-channel, had half a mind to swim to France, but, not liking the frog-soup, and reflecting what a los: I should be to my country, I swam back to my «ative shores,” * Nhat will do, Den.’ * But what about the bow and arrows, Ben?” #Ob Ll tell ye. Well, you know I’ve been to France, crossed the water many a time in the fishermen’s yawls, But where was 1?” “In France,” “OF course. Well, you know that wretched country is infested with wolves?” ‘ Heard so.” “Yes, Hal, there are hurdreds and thousands of ‘em. Well, one day I went shooting with my bow and arrows in the woods when I met one of them, a great grisly brute about as big as old Clem Cleat’s jackass. As soon as Isaw him coming— shall I tell ye what I did?” “ Aye, heave a-head,” 2 * Well, Jack, I'll show you what I did. I—— j)? Ben Bouncer broke off suddenly, and, uttering a terrific yell, took to his heels and bounded off like a hunted deer. : “Just what I expected you’d do,” laughed Jack. But his mirth was instantly changed to alarm | when a horrible roar and a burst of thrilling shrieks caused him to look behind him, The lion of the menagerie had broken from his den, and came trotting towards them, his immense shaggy mane streaming in the breeze and his tre- mendous head upraised. Jack’s playmates scattered. in all directions, stumbling over each other in their precipitous flight, and filling the air with screams of terror. For one moment poor Jack stood transfixed with deadly fear. The huge and dreadful beast came bounding along directly towards him. With a piercing cry Violet darted away; but as she crossed the lion’s path, her foot slipped on the dewy sward, and she fell prone. ; The next instant, his majestic countenance dis- playing the utmost ferocity of purpose, the lion clapped his mighty paw upon the tender bosom of the prostrate girl, uttering a tremendous roar, never to be forgotten by our hero, The lion had already opened his immense jaws to seize on his prey, when, as Jack cast a rapid, wild, despairing glance around him, in search of some offensive weapon, his eyes fell upon the blue, glinting blade of a woodman’s axe lying on the grass within a few yards of him. Quick as lightning, Jack snatched it up, and dashed at the monster, who, uttering a low fierce growl, was about to tiansfix the poor girl’s right arm with his murderous fangs. Diverted from his helpless victim by Jack's bold attack, the brute crouched in order to spring upon his daring assailant, Maddened by desperation, his brain awhirl with excitement, nerved by frenzy to superhuman strength and courage, Jack slashed’ right and left through ihe red mist which had gathered before his burning cyes. Slash ! smash ! crash ! The axe is shivered to pieces. Jack is drenched with gore, and drops senseless, Armed with red-hot iron bars, anumber of keepers from the caravan fly to-his assistance. Their aid is needless now; Violet, though ‘sunk in a deep swoon, is unhurt, while the young lion- slayer lics insensible, covered with blood, his clothes torn to shreds in the very grip of the huge but life- less monster, CHAPTER VY. THE OWLET'S ROOST. THE Owlet’s Roost was a grey old tow cer perched like a pillar on the windy brow of a tall cliff that bectled over the sea. It had been built as a place of seclusion from the world, by one of Captain Warbold’s ancestors, an COMMUC OOO KS. CONN