Beadle's New Dime Novels, No. 49 — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

66 THORNPATH, THE TRAILER; OR, CHAPTER X. TREED. In less than an hour after parting with Frank Harwood and Miss Stump at the Black Swamp, Thornpath, the Trailer, reached the timber in which Red Hand had encamped. He had no difficulty in finding the chief's trail, which he followed on till he came to the camp. But, alas, he was greatly disappointed ; the savages had slept off the effects of the narcotic and gone ; ; but much of their plunder still remained scattered about in every direction. “ By cats and furies!” exclaimed the old Trailer, “too late fur a single sculp; every cussed varmint gone |” “Oh, salvation! Js that you, Thede ?” The hunter.started with sudden surprise at the sound of that voice, coming, as it seemed, from the earth, hollow and sepulchral in its intonations. “ Ya-as—it’s—me,” drawled the Trailer; “who the deuce areyou?”? In reply to his question, Josiah Jenkins slipped from a large hollow log near by, and stood before him, his face be- smeared with dust and dirt. . “ Holy water o’ the Jordan !” exclaimed Thornpath, “ J’siah Jenkins, as I live! Why, old feller, I thought you war dead and gone, long ago. What ye doin’ here? Come, old friend, give us a bit o’ yer hisi’ry since I last see’d you. Whars the nigger?” “The Lord only knows where the black coward is,” replied Josiah, returning to his old song. “I persume you know that ‘we war attacked by "bout fifty Ingins on the island, after Harwood ; and I tell you what, Thede, I walked into them reds reg'ler Deer Creek style, and if Egypt hadn’t run we could ‘a’ licked the whole caboodle ; but, of course, I couldn’t fight ’em all, and, after layin’ out about twenty, I was over- and taken prisoner. Gyp give himself up without & word. Well, then, they fetched us over here in the wonds, conmiclsoolkks. conn