Beadle's Dime Novels No. 127: Bald Eagle — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

60 BALD EAGLE. “Have done with foolery, you baby,” cried the old woman, fretfully. Maggie had taken a shawl over her head, and she now opened the door, and went out into the dark night. ~ We left Dora tenderly cared for by the Indian girl who, - fully persuaded of her insanity, now treated her with respect even bordering upon awe. She listened reverently to the in- coherent murmurings of her sleep, and watched her utterance as that of an oracle. The two gathered wild buds and autumn leayes together, and fished with hook and line from the rocks. Dora was restless, and often turned her full eye upon the face of her companion. “ Where is the Bald Eagle ?” at length she asked. Mequa pointed to the king of birds soaring above the Thor, and ready to settle upon its eyrie there. Dora’s eyes flashed with Tesentment at this subterfuge, and she slapped Mequa’s cheek with the back of her hand. The wife of a chief sprang to her feet with ready anger and outraged dignity, but, remem- bering that her companion was under the special care of the Great Spirit, who would punish an injury done to his chosen child, she meekly crossed her hands upon her bosom, and sat in silence, “Where is the Bald Eagle ?” reitérated the girl, fiercery “He has gone to the council of the great chief.” Dora pressed her temples anxiously, and tried to follow up Some thought which flitted her grasp, but it could not be. She soon relapsed into her dreamy, listless demeanor and join- ed Mequa in binding the berries of the wild rose into a cor- onal for her hair, . Dora looked down at the reflection of her- self in the stream, and instantly tore them away, pulled cruelly at the braids, till her hair floated free, a white banner in the twilight. As she did so the angry spot died away from her cheek, and she smiled upon her companion, who now tvok her by the hand and led her to sleep within the wigwam. Mequa moved about with the stealthy tread of a young panther, and was greatly annoyed at the demonstrativeness of her companion, who lay upon the mats croning over and Over again a foolish rhyme which seemed to start to life amid the wrecks of her memory : comicbooks.com