Beadle's Dime Novels No. 316: Hurricane Bill — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

56 HURRICANE BILL. or a week before, had been the pride of his village, the light of his mother’s soul. And of those who bad never returned? Ah, the answer was still easier. They bad braved the spirit occupants of the Evil Land: They perished in their blindness. How ? They were sacrificed. Their bones could still be seen. Some were fastened with invisible Chains to the rocks—thus they had died. . And their despairing shrieks for help only served to frighten away those travelers whose hearts were strong enough to take them along the edge of the Evil Land. And then, just at midnight, the scattered bones were reunited, each in its proper place, and, despite the groans and sobs of the tortured spirits, the skeleton-band was forced to wait wpon their masters—upon the demons of the Evil Land, who, for one hour, held wild, unholy orgies and blasphemous carousals in their natural temples of rock, — The true believers who are obliged to pass near this spot— this Evil Land—do so in fear and trembling, telling. their , beads, muttering their prayers and nervously handling their amulets and charms, to. keep off the treacherous gnomes and evil spirits who hover around bis footsteps, greedily waiting aad watching for an unguarded moment in which they can assail him. And then cunning and seductive lures are cast in his way, artfully chosen according to his temperament and likings. A woman, lovely asa dream, whose eyes, lips, whose every movement and gesture speaks of love; perchance she appeals to his chivalry—she is a persecuted being, one who has terrible, remorseless enemies, but whose friends have all vanished-—unless he assists her, she is doomed. Others - have been tempted with a dazzling treasure—with heaps of bright, yellow gold and sparkling jewels of untold prigw But woe unto those who hesitate for even one moment. He is lost—forever lost ! And so the word ran round. No sooner did One voice cease than another took it up. At first Hurricane Bill and Mustang Sam only Jaughed; but then they waxed impatient. As Mark Twain hath it—it was growing monotonous. “Look here,” at length cried Mustang Sam. “ Don Munez, you are a man of sense. Whut does all this mean? Are your fellows trying to frighten ws with these cock-and-bull comicbooks.com