Beadle's Dime Novels No. 142: The Sagamore of Saco — page 103: what you’re looking at

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

THE CACHE. “ Hillo! where ishe ?’ exclaimed Harvey. “He ain’tcarried away by the water, is he ?”’ “Come,” said Custa, again ; **there is a trail in the swift water. Let your hand never leave the left rock. The eyes of an eagle could not see—we must feel like moles.’’ Harvey obeyed, and found, by keeping his hand gliding along the <, that he thus wa on a that was scarcely covered by the water, which swept furi- ously by, deep, within two inches of where he walked. They moved in utter darkness. They saw noth- ing but the rock = touched with their hands; ey heard nothing but the swift current to their right. Harvey was advancing, still wondering when all this groping in the dark would end, peering forward to try and catch a glimpse of those who preceded him, when - suddenly his hand slipped from the damp, cold rock onto what ap- peared stubble, and he heard the voice of Custa by his side ins of before. . “ Wagh,’’ said the Indian, whose . manners, e, mien, actions, were one continual st le be- tween his sav and . civilized instincts, those of childhood and those of manhood—* a beaver in a dam, a fox in a hollow tree, an otter ina hole, never made such acacheas this. Wagh! it is good.” A torch which the Silent Hun- ter now lit with his tinder-box, re- vealed to Harvey the nature of the place. It was a niche in the rock, about fifteen feet high, ten across the mouth, and as many deep, overhung 80 by the two banks that even a fire could not betray it, while even in the daytime smoke would have been dispersed ere it reached the summit of the self, tall trees. fox’s many an o four-legged te has donethe dogs b and will agin. It’s beau This is cache, when you came up here ol 37 afore there were any s these parts.” git Mops Harrod bowed his head. He had fixed the torch in a piece of wood which had been cnt and planted forthe purpose. He left the two friends to do the rest, though he showed them a hole in a corner, where there were w deer-meat, a jug, and some skins, Harvey and Custa quickly made a fire and cooked their supper, which having finished—in this passivel imitated by Harrod—they lit their pipes and pre for a *“b ” on the duties they had to perform—duties which did not affect them in an equal degree; for what can equal, what be like, the earnest solicitude of a ion- ate lover, whose mistress is in the hands of such ruthless beings as per savages of North Amer- ca} And Custaloga, the brave and devoted Wyandot, did love Am with all the wild ardor of his half- tamed nature—loved her, too, without ho without future without ani ex that his love could ever be aught save a dream—and thus, perhaps, had his affection risen to the greater hight, as it was invested with a melancholy and sadness, which to his wayward nature, but half conquered by education, was not without its harm , c , Custal loved Amy, the affi- anced bride of Squire ton, for whom he had an instinctive dis- like, which, however, had never manifested itself as yet in any way save that already He red his existence. Amy saw this and wondered. But her secrets we ure not privi- leged to reveal until the day and hour when she avows them her- and deprives them of that vail of o and doubt which we may not even rete rs from eo Joes, Date, and letters be- fore us, we have already mastered “What ib Harrod up to?” whis- pered Harvey, as soon as he had Comichooks;com