The Huge Hunter - Or, the Steam Man of the Prairies by Edward S. (Edward Sylvester) Ellis
page 92 of 128 (71%)
page 92 of 128 (71%)
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'Skulp me, if they ain't all around us!' was the reply of the hunter. 'How we ar' to git out o' hyar, ar' a hard thing to tell j'ist now.' 'It's meself that thinks the rid gentlemin have a love fur us, as me mither obsarved, when she cracked the head of me father,' remarked Mickey, who had seated himself upon the ground with all the indifference of an unconcerned spectator. It was so dark in their cave-like home that they could not see each other's faces, and could only catch a sort of twilight glimpse of their forms when they passed close to each other. It would have made their quarters more pleasant had they struck a light, but it was too dangerous a proceeding, and no one thought of it. They could only keep on the alert, and watch for the movement of their enemies. The latter, beyond all doubt, were in the immediate vicinity, and inspired as they were by hate of the most vindictive kind, would not allow an opportunity to pass of doing all the harm in their power. The remains of their food was silently eaten in the darkness, when Baldy said: 'Do yer stay hyar whar ye be till I come back' 'Where might ye be going naow?' inquired Hopkins. |
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