Penny Dreadfuls, 1916 · page 344 of 400
Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil: A Young Virginian in the Revolution — page 344: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a page of running prose from "Tom Anderson, Dare-Devil," a Victorian penny dreadful (page 324). The text depicts Tom seeking help from a doctor and then visiting an Indian named Unaka to enlist aid in saving a friend named Dick from a man called Knatchbull. When Tom expresses his love and desperation in Cherokee, Unaka mysteriously prepares a hollowed goat carcass as a container, ties it to his back, and appears ready to act. The passage combines melodramatic emotion with exotic adventure elements typical of the genre.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
324 Tom ANDERSON, Dare-DEVIL ‘No, no; [’ll find out from the niggers.”’ And then he turned and looked in Tom’s eyes for a minute. It was better than words. “Good-night, Carabas. It’s a little white cottage — close to the Codrington Free School.” “T’ll find him.’ And ‘Tom’s strong, brown hand closed over the slim white one. And he said within himself, “The breed of Norman knights comes true in him.” Few things could startle Saunders Macglashan, M.D. Nevertheless, when Tom, his errand done, turned away from the doctor’s door, he left the Scotchman i in a state bordering on consternation. Tom went straight to Unaka. When he had poured out his story, the Indian rose smoothly to his feet and laid a hand on his knife. “Scalp?” he clucked in Cherokee. ‘Lord, no! We are not redskins,” ungratefully. Unaka looked somber and haughty. Tom was too wretched to heed him. He sat with his sick eyes on the sea. “ Knatch- bull is as sure with his sword as you with your blowgun. The Marquis is not a match for him there. Heard a fellow say to-night, ‘Dick ’Il kill him!’ He’s the best friend I ever had in my life except you. And he’s going to lay down his life — his brave, gentle young life! — for my sake.” Never before had the savage seen Jom in despair. The boy stumped down on the rocks in ah agony of self-reproach and grief. [he ways of whites were past finding out. Sud- denly he raised- his stricken eyes to the unfathomable Cherokee. “Tsikeyusaw”’ (I love him), he muttered in the other’s own tongue. And Unaka, with eyes full of mystery, moved away. From a cache under a rock he brought out the carcass of a goat. It had been opened and the entrails removed; but hide and horns were intact. In this ribbed cavity the Indian boy bestowed something. This queer basket was tied on his back by bringing the four goat-feet together on his breast. ‘This left his hands free to use the oars. ‘**Emathla!”’ ECONMMICLOOOKSa(6O m