Beadle's Dime Novels No. 127: Bald Eagle — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

18 BALD EAGLE. his hand upon his mother’s shoulder, and seizing the hand in both of hers look up imploringly into the fiery eyes that turn- ed fiercely upon her. Who could resist the mute appeal of that innocent one ? Maggie’s lips moved, but no word followed. Again and again she strove to speak, but all in vain. She could only hold the hand of the chief in hers, and look entreaty. “Poor bird, poor bird! It pecks the snake that invades its nest,” “Go, go, I beseech you,” at length cried Maggie, finding voice. “ You—you will not find him here.” The Bald Eagle laid his hand upon her head ; a tenderness grew into his eyes, and he replied, in grave rebuke : “Let not the white dove soil her wings. The Bald Eagle knows he 7s here. Give him this!” » Ile placed an arrow in her hand and stalked away, closing the door as he left. | Slowly the woman came out of her death-torpor, the cold sweat standing in drops upon her forehead, und her eyes glar- ing with that glassy, sepulchral brightness, so often the precur- sor of the long sleep. Richard came from his retreat, but he did not approach his mother. He fastened the door, with care, and seating himself upon the settle, took his trembling little wife upon his knee. She still grasped the fatal arrow in her hand. Richard took it carelessly, and tossed it aside ; and leaning his chin upon Maggie’s brow, sat long absorbed in silent thought; and thus there the tbree silent ones sat through the long watches of the dismal night. Once Maggie started, and with a half-deprecating smile whispered in her husband's ear, ’ “I thought I heard poor little Dicky cry,” whereat he laid her head down again very gently, and soothed her like a weary child, and waited the dawn. At length there was a low whistle under the window. “I must go now, Maggie,” he said, taking her arms from his neck. She lifted up her pale face, and the leaves of her rose, withered and brdken, fell around her. “ You will be back to-morrow, Richard,” she whispered. 7; Yes, Maggie.” He knew this was false ; he knew that from henceforth he connicloooks.com