Red Belt, the Tuscarora — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

A WIT AT LAST. 41 - Red Belt glanced behind him. Then quick as lightning he dropped the paddle by his side—stooped, grasped his rifle, turned in his seat, flung the piece to his face, and steadying it for a moment, fired. The echoing ring of the fire-arms sounded sharp on the wide water, and the bright flash for a moment lit up the surrounding gloom. Instantly there came’a wild shout of defiance from the boat which pursued, and then a shower of singing balls. Red Belt then knew that his bullet had missed its mark. He did not hesitate. Reaching down he clutched the long, slender-barreled weapon of the old hunter, and rising to his fect, steadied himself for a moment. Then quick as lightning he flung the terrible weapon to his face, his eye blazed through -““the sights, until the dark muzzle had covered the black object hovering astern. Then. he pulled the trigger. Scareely had the clear, shrill report rung on the night-air, before there came back a maddened chorus of demoniac yells, and then a wild death-shriek. “That's better, Red Belt! You've chucked the lead into a ; y chief, or my name is not Sampson Lowe! Whistling Dick, if aimed right, can not mot at is to say, under Geren quai of a mile” «© Red Belt tumed and saw! dhowld) hunter sitting up on his elbow. CHAPTER VII. ON THE TRAE. Acarx the wild chorus of mingled yells and suoutnewelle® over the water, and then the scattering fire of a half-dozen rifles rung on the air. Red Belt sunk down into the canoe ag be saw the little jets of flame. The bullets sung harmlessly over him, and struck in the water far ahead. The young Indian lost no time ; he grasped his paddle and again urged the boat forward. The light craft was soon well under weigh, and skimming the waters again. Old Sampson, 2 comiclooolks.conn