Penny Dreadfuls, 1890 · page 136 of 253
Rocky Mountain Sam — page 136: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1890. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
»~ ve ; ."4 > Via a é i s yy . " * +a) e ~ | t} ' ROCKY MOUNTAIN SAM, 127. ‘‘Poor—poor child!” said the old man, impressively, closely examining the fragment handed him; ‘‘it is writ- ten with a pointed stick, and in her own blood/’ He then read as follows: ‘“DraR FRreNDS:—In Heaven’s name do not desert the poor captive, this time, however dark her outlook may seem, “T see that your noble balloon is strong enough to lift the Indian lodges from the grcund with apparent ease. ‘Why not try to raise the little house in which I am. imprisoned? It -is very light, the sides and roof being made of nothing but dried skins, and its floor is not fastened into the ground. ‘“MoLiin CHAPMAN.” “By crimminy! why didn’t we think of that afore?” cried Rocky Mountain Sam, again flinging the grappling- iron overboard. But now—whether they suspected his intention or not, which was, however, doubtful, considering the very sub- stantial appearance of the house in question—the Indians began to open fire upon the balloon from the timber. Bullets and arrows whizzed uncomfortably near the occupants of the car, and one of the shafts cutting the line cleverly in two, caused the grapnel to fall, with a clanging rattle, to the ground. | A little shriek from the interior of the house showed the painful interest taken by its occupant in the proceedings. ‘Ah! but she doesn’t know that we’ve gota few more left of the same sort,” muttered Sam, making another grapnel fast to the severed line, and tying the other end to the car. «<Professor—Fayaway—be ready with them sand-bags when I sing out.” CHAPTER XVII. THE RESCUE—AN EXCITING BUFFALO HUNT. Sweet is the hour to eyes long wont To breathe the air through prison bars, When new baptized at-freedom’s font, Above him gleam the untrammeled stars, And every wind that sweeps the land Is like a soft, caressing hand. Rocky Mountain Sam again swung down the grapnel, and after considerable difficult angling, succeeded in making it GEomichoo cS (ele) m ‘