Beadle's Dime Novels No. 153: Mohawk Nat — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

THE BORDER-MEN. 1i beanty of a good type. On his upper lip was a heavy mus- tache, but the rest of his face was shaved clean. One hand was laid on the muzzle of a long rifle, the stock of which was richly ornamented with silver and ivory-work. The barrel was of beautiful finish for the period. But few of the border-men could afford to carry such a weapon, Another man sat near by, his hands clasped about his knees, staring into the water at his feet, and whistling in a low key. His hair, of a peculiar yellowish-white, was al- lowed to grow down to his shoulders, while his thoroughly bronzed face was covered by a heavy beard of the same color, A casual look at this face would not have impressed the ob- server favorably; “an idle, careless, useless fellow, not apt to set the world on fire by his deeds,” would have been the first impression. .A closer study, however, revealed a sharp, determined eye, a thin, closely-compressed upper lip, a nose with something of the semblance of an eagle’s beak, Gazing at his physieal development, the wonderful length of his arms, and the snaky ridges of muscle rising beneath, proclaimed a man of Titan strength. His rifle, not inferior to the one in the hands of his tall companion, lay across his lap; now and then he patted it softly, as if he regarded it as an old friend. _ “What are you thinking about, Nat ?” said the younger of the two, “You look as if your wits had gone woel-gath- “Mebbe you ar’ right,” said he, looking up with a start. “T war a good way off then. Never mind, I’m here now, and my name is Nat Hazard. Whatare we going to do ?” “Stay here to-night, I suppose, since we are not likely to catch the red devils who burned Tom Turner's house.” “They ain’t gone fur,” said Nat, in a sleepy, indolent tone, as if talking uneonsciously ; then, speaking with animation : “They ain’t half so ’traid of us ez they used to be. Served us right, too, a set of vagabones, that don’t set no more store by their housen than to let a lot of lopin’, caterwaulin’ red- skins burn "em. Lucky J wa’n’t here.” “ What would you have done?” | “ What would I’a done? Fda walked ‘into every tribe from Niagara to Montreal, and wiped them off the face of the ’arth. I could doit,too. | What's an Injin ?—an’ what’s COMIGOOOKXS.COM) 5 a