Rocky Mountain Sam — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

Spt ee DRO Ok! SF" A a So) Sa tee r 7 S- x - s 4 ROCKY MOUNTAIN SAM. 33 then one of them bit the dust under the less frequent but surer shots of the hunters. ‘There goes Bob Scarlet, or Firefoot, as they call him in their lingo!” cried Sam, pointing to the tall form of the Indian leader, who was splendidly mounted and armed, but who appeared to be engaged solely in directing the move- - ments of his wild followers, rather than doing any fighting himself. ‘*Does he bear a charmed life? I’ve shot at him twice and missed.” _ “It’s a long range, Sam, a long range,” muttered the colonel, between his teeth. ‘‘Curse the villain! If I ever get him in my power he won’t trouble my little girl any more. ‘The renegade!” ‘‘Big Horn, you try him with a shot,” suggested Sam. ‘“‘l ain’t ready fur to wipe out Firefut,” said Big Horn, grimly. ‘‘When I am, jist look out fur airthquakes, fel- lers!” They all looked at the morose hunter with curiosity, for it was generally known that there was some mystery existing between him and the renegade, though.none had divined— except Sam, perhaps—exactly what it was. . “By Jove! they're preparing for aregular cavalry charge,” said Lieutenant Dutton—a young officer on avisit from the States—who was finely mounted, but appeared to be in bad health. ‘“‘Reserve your fire till the word is given,” cried the colonel, turning to those on foot, ‘‘and be ready for a charge.” said he, turning to the mounted men. The Indians, fully one hundred strong, came thundering on, sending a flight of arrows before them, and uttering their terrific war-whoop, with Firefoot in the van, apparently as calm and as inflexible as though engaged in a deer-hunt. The little band poured ina volley with terrible effect, which, | however, only caused them to waver for an instant. ‘‘Charge!” yelled the colonel, and, while their comrades were reloading their pieces, the mounted hunters drove in among the redskins like a living wedge, pistol and knife in hand, and dealing devastation on either side. _ Old Chapman, beside himself with fury at seeing the Indian leader close at hand, spurred toward him with a frantic shout. : ‘Dog of a renegade, do you want me? Here I am!” he yelled. | Gomichboo (ele)