The Maid of the Mountain — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

THER ALTERNATIVE. — | «© Swear as that. Them bones is mighty cold and ugly, Mister Rob— capting, I meant, ter say. I don’t think I'd like tew put my hand on’em the way yew did. Say, that was a ‘mighty nice gal yew bad in here.” “ What are you talking about?” said the chief, quickly. “The gal. I tell yew, she was a mighty smart-lookin’ critter. ’Tain’t often yew find sech a one as she is, Say, mister, dew yew know that Tommy thinks a heap of that gal ?” “Silence, you fool!” thundered the chief, rising. “ You are like the rest of your race, inquisitive, masking under the _ guise of stupidity a world of native cunning, which nothing ean oyerreach. But, bear this in mind: speak on any sub- ject you choose, but avuid the subject you just now touched on, or we shall fall out.” “I don’t know what I said then tew have yew git mad,” said Josh. “I told the trewth, anyhow. It’s darned hard if a feller can’t say a word without yew gittin’ your back up. But, see here: s’pose I say I won't join you—what will yew dew tew me ?” “ Kill you !” shouted the chief, in a terrible voice. Josh leaped from the ground and alighted on the stool again, ejaculating, “Good Lordy!” So utterly was he de- prived of speech that, after that ejaculation, he had no power to utter a word, but sat in silent terror, his teeth rattling like Castinets, in spite of all efforts to keep up courage. “Get up, you booby. You shall have the same chance as your companion. To-morrow you shall know your fate. But, first, I will show you how you will die.” “Hold on,” said Josh, feebly. “I don't believe I want tew know about that. S'’pose you don’t tickle me, as the pig said tew the brushmaker who wanted his bristles.” “ Come, I say.” “Oh, dear. Now I'ma gone coon! Say, mister, what's the use of bein’ so darned hash with a feller like me? I won't tell a word of what I've seen—not a single darned word. I don’t want to go with yew. I don’t feel very well, myself. Why can’t yew let up on me a little, say? Ob, darn it all ! Pll come. When you look at a feller like that, there ain't no Sayin’ any thing about it.” comicbdooks.com