Rocky Mountain Sam — page 195: what you’re looking at

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

186 ROCKY MOUNTAIN SAM. A little rivulet flashed through the center, and on its banks they could discern two or three Indian lodges, the moonlight making every object stand out in distinct relief. Silently they settled down to within a short distance of the lodges, the wind dying away as they neared the surface, leaving them perfectly motionless. Some Indian dogs _be- gan to bark, but they did not disturb the inmates of the lodges. Every one looked in vain for some indications of the presence of the renegade chief and the objects of their search. “Sam,” said the professor, ‘“‘let us uncover that larger | lodge, and see what we shallsee. Get readya grapnel.” Our hero obeyed orders, and dropping a grapnel with his practiced hand, made it fast to the peak of the most con- spicuous wigwam, and then made a sign to his companion to draw gently upon the rope. The lodge, being composed entirely of dried skins, was very light, and they lifted it into the air without scarcely an effort. ‘The moonlight flowed into the interior, and re- vealed the forms of four sleepers. One was a warrior, with his blanket wrapped around him, and his firelock still clutched in his hands. Near him, with her baby clasped to her breast, lay a good-looking squaw, and in a remote corner reclined the form of a young Indian girl, the first glimpse of whom caused our hero’s heart to leap in his breast for he thought it might be none other than his beloved Fayaway. . But it was not, though one fully as graceful and beauti- fulasshe. It was the figure of a young squaw of about sixteen summers. ‘The folds of the light, many-beaded covering that draped her form, rather exposed than con- cealed its graceful proportions. Ararely wrought necklace of wampum twined her slended neck, and the broad, yel- low bracelets upon her wrists and arms betokened that she was of high rank in her tribe. | ‘That ‘ere leetle slip of a squaw’s good enough for the wife of any man, pard,” said Big Horn, turning to Sam, a a softened look in the eyes, which was not often seen ere. | “It is evident,”’ whispered the professor, ‘‘that neither of the captives we’re in search for isin this encampment. But, if we could only make that girl a captive, she might give © us all the information we want,.”’ (@) > €omicbooks (e(@)