Beadle's Dime Novels No. 310: Foghorn Phil — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

12 FOGHORN PHIL. limbed animals, and were following an old and unfrequented trail that crossed the Powder river, wound its way through the hills and then made an abrupt bend to the right, and ran nortuward along the valley of the Tongue river, far beyond the Missouri. : The man was securely bundled up in a great buffalo over- coat ; his feet were incased in shoes of the same material; fur gloves were upon his hands with gauntlets reaching to his elbows, and upon his head he wore a cap which wag drawn down over his face, concealing his brow and eyes, The lower part of his face wag covered with a tremendous black beard which, with the force of the wind, parted over his breast and streamed out on either side in confused masses, His companion was also warmly wrapped in furs, but her face was uncovered—a pretty, pale face that looked out, with its great, brown eyes, from between the borders of a beaver hood—telling that she was quite young—probably not over eighteen years. Strong-limbed and swift were their horses, but the carriage of their heads, dilated nostrils and white smoking flanks told that they had been long and sharply ridden. And a long, long, way it must have been, too, if they bad come that day from the nearest settlement to the east of them. Whither could they be going at such a season of the year ? As the shadows of night deepened over the plain, the man would glance uneasily around him and at the doll, threaten-— ing sky, and then, as if to conceal from his companion his - inward fears, he would counsel a slower rate of speed on the ground of husbanding the strength of their noble beasts, “But, Herman,” the pretty young girl at his side said, pleadingly, and with a subdued toae of fear, “ our animals are more able to carry us on to our destination at this Speed, than we are to run risks of the dangers that delay is sure to bring upon us,” “ Fie, Camilla,” returned the bearded man, in a strange, gruff voice that betrayed an indifference to their situation, “you need have no fears of the coming night, nor Jament over apprehended dangers. The world would be none the. worse off, if either of us shculd never be seen alive again.” “Ou, Berman, Herman Rochelle!” cried the beautiful girl commiclbooks.com