Beadle's Dime Novels No. 96: Little Moccasin — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

cd = J #, = CHARLEY’S STORY. -- 97 ‘held between both of hers, and her long hair floating loose. The countenance of the elder was haughty and imperious, but very beautiful; that of the younger he could only guess at, from an occasional glimpse, as she lifted her head once or twice, after pressing her warm, wet lips to his pale, trembling hand, and flung back her abundant tresses. “ Little Mocca- sin, as I live!” said he to himself; “ but who is the queenly stranger ?” = And then he fell asleep again, like an overwearied child ; and was awakened at last by a variety of noises, all about him—caterwauling on the roof, the crowing of a cock at his very elbow,.and the yelping of a dog, followed by the scream- ‘ing of a cat. “Confound that Charley! Out with you, sir!” said a voice that he knew, which appeared to come from the outside of the lodge. ‘“ You ought to have the skin stripped over your eyes !” ai ; “ Oertainly, your eminence—any thing more ?” | “Be quiet, sir, and come out of that, if you know when you are well off.” And then there was more whispering; and Fletcher said, “There wasn’t any moose, I tell you. The noise we first™ heard, like rasping and the snapping of twigs and the strip- ping of bark, was all made by the major; and then he gave us the moose-horn—oo-00-00 !” _ “The moose-horn !” ae “A trumpet made of birch-bark. That finished the busi- ness. But how came you to find us, Charley, my boy ?” con- tinued Fletcher. * “Wal, when that she-wolf burst open the door of the lodge, and stood still, with her black yes flashing fire, a knife in her belt and a rifle in her hand, we were all frightened about enough, I tell you. She told se story in short meter, and we all jumped up and offered to es her. She let me lead off, but I soon lost the track, somehow. After look- ing about and considering a few moments, her face brightened up, and she started off in the direction of that gully, where we found the trapper’s lodge under the bank. And then— and then, we heard firing, and then we hurried up and foun: L the cap’n stretched out on his back and bleeding to death, * " i 2 connmicloooks.comn)