Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 149 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 149: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is a page of running prose from a Victorian penny dreadful titled "Trouble in the Wind" (page 133). The text depicts a scene where characters named Tom, Troupe, Unaka, and a child called Easta hide in a white cavern on a cliff to escape pursuing men on horseback—apparently "Tories" and "bushwhackers" engaged in some conflict. Tom devises a plan to erase their footprints and escape to the cave, where they cook game. When soldiers arrive, Tom expresses confidence they will eventually leave, believing no one else knows of the hideout. The passage ends with Tom enthusiastically imagining returning home with his companions.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
TROUBLE IN THE WIND 133 gone, why, they will call off their pickets hereabouts, and we can make our escape. See?” “Don’t I?” Tom scanned the uptorn earth with consuming scrutiny. Here, the print of his toes; there, the track of Troupe’s neat boot, and East-a-tubbee’s feet. When every telltale footmark had been effaced, he hurriedly told his plan. “They ll beat the bushes for me. But I know one spot where we can be safe.” Unaka pointed to the cliffs. “Yes. The white cavern. Hope we won't starve to death. Let’s get away from here, boys!’”’ — And they did. Descending the rope over the cliff, each fellow had a fagot tied about his middle; and Unaka carried little Easta—exactly as a cat totes a kitten. No sooner had they kindled a light than Unaka set to work to cook supper — some of the game he had fetched still hung at his belt. “There’s no danger of the Tories smelling our broiled birds; the whole air smells like burnt witches!” said Troupe. “Hark!” Tom leaped to his feet. ‘There they are!” The noise of twanging voices, the tramp of horses, was distinct enough. A body of men came riding along the cliff. Blatant with excitement they were. ‘The discovery of an exploded mine—the buried barrels of powder had been a buried secret — threw the bushwhackers into a tumult. “Ruffans!’” muttered Troupe; “they are beating the bushes, Tom!” “T know now how the rabbit in the root feels, with the dog sniffing on the outside!”’ “If they knew we were here, we could pick off every man who tried to come down that rope. But we could n’t stand a siege. Starve us out,” said the soldier. But Tom retorted, — “Starve? Nobody on earth knows this cave but Unaka and myself. When those scoundrels up yonder make up their minds I’ve gone the way Horn- buckle went, they ’ll clear out. ‘Then — ho for the Valley!” He laughed wildly. “Think of it, Troupe! Think of going home together. You and I and Unaka! Home, home!” CORNICLOO® “eS (C©) m