Beadle's Dime Novels No. 215: The White Hermit — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

a. | THE WHITE HERMIT. pass, behind him the limitless forest and the bodies of the - dead St. Regis. From whence had these savages come, and whut were they doing in this country, the home of their in- veterate foes, the Oneidas? They certainly must have come upon some secret and important expedition, or they would not be here. It was evident that their meeting with the Oneida had been purely an accident, and that their natural hatred of his tribe had induced them to assail him. As he stood there, ruminating upon the strange events which the day had brought, there pealed out in the woods be- hind him a ery which, once heard, is never forgotten, and he had heard it too often in battle to make any mistake in it now. ~The mournful, wailing, tremulous cry could be nothing else than the note which an Indian raises over the dead of his own nation found upon the trail. The sound came from the spot __ where the dead warriors lay. The St. Regis had found their dead! 7 Laurence Austen was no coward. A soldier by profession, _» he knew what it was to be in danger, and that never in his . life had he been in greater peril than now. He felt a strange Ee thrill as that sudden cry announced to him the coming of the savages, and he looked about him for a hiding-place. He knew that the Indians would not hesitate long before following the = trail, which they had taken no pains to conceal. The dis- _ covery of the bodies was followed by angry exclamations and ries for vengeance, apparently from many throats, until «a c commanding voice was heard rising above the din of the sav- ages; a great silence fell, and the young man knew that they had found the trail. There was only one way by which he might escape. Stepping on stones to-hide his trail, he passed some distance, and then clasped the trunk of a huge beech tree six feet from the ground, and climbing rapidly, buried himself _ im the branches just as the foremost savage appeared upon the * bank below, and then leaped down upon the sand. He was _ followed by others, some of whom remained upon the bank, = looking down upon the beach, while others joined their com- _ panions below. Austen was familiar enough with Indian cos- Seeing know that these were of the same tribe as the men Seal slain by Chenango—the St. Regis, ever the faithful allies of the French. They were uttering low cries of disappointment = - . * oy a Comichooks.;com) ae ‘ a a 2 “ - - d - >. a