Beadle's Dime Novels No. 153: Mohawk Nat — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

26. MOHAWK NAT. eye was quick when glancing over the double sights, and woe to the man or beast at whom he pulled trigger. Rarely did he shoot in vain. The idle, useless air which he ordinarily assumed was a sort of safeguard. Few men could conceive how such a person could beso terrible as an enemy. Yet, known and feared through the whole colony, by French and Indians, as a man of unfathomable resources, whom no one could outwit, whose foot was tireless on the trail, and whose strength was. wonderful, Mohawk Nat commanded the respect which all classes ever yield to courage and ability. As the trail freshened he seemed to expand and to become more eager. Danger, tohim, was a pastime. He reveled in it, and pricked up his ears like an old hound the nearer it came. Certain that not many rods could intervene between himself and the savages, his steps became more and more cautions ; he literally felt his way over the path; no stick cracked under his feet; no leaves rustled as he walked. The path led him close to the bank of the stream; he could see the dark water gleaming through the trees in front, and was satisfied, that those. he sought were camped upon the open space he knew so well, betwen the river and the bluff. Leay- ing the trail he struck out toward: the bluffs, which lined the stream on the either side. Up the steep he strained, and at length reached the summit. A screen of low bushes grew along the edge of the bluff,and parting these cautiously, the scout looked down upon a strangely picturesque scene. At this point the stream was broken into cascades, gleam- ing in the sunshine, and plunging down the rocks in wild con- fusion. ‘The spot where he lay was just at the head of the cascades ; the whole beautiful scene lay likea panoramic view before his eyes. He was too old a trailer not to leve such sights; but, it was not upon the scenery his glance now rested. About. fifteen feet below him, on a sbelf of limestone perhaps twenty feet in width, and extending for twenty rods along the stream, sat a number of Hurons, conversing in suppressed voices. They were in their war-paint, and some of them wore upon their persons articles which he recognized as among those taken from Tom Turner’shouse. They were seven in number, but none of them chiefs. From this, the ranger was convinced that all tle party were not present. conmmiclooOoks. Conn