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Richardson, John, 1796-1852

"Hardscrabble; or, the fall of Chicago. a tale of Indian warfare"


"NOW, do you see it?" again eagerly inquired Weston, as,
at that moment, the same animal was seen to turn itself
within the very limited space which had been indicated.
"Yes, I see it now," replied the Virginian, "but it's as
likely to be a hog as a man, for anything I can make of
that shape; a hog that has been filling his skin with
hickory nuts, and is but now waking out of his sleep.
Still, as the Injins were there just now, it may be that
if they're gone, they've left a spy behind them. We'll
soon know how matters stand, for it won't do to remain
here all night. Cass," addressing the man in the boat
who was seated low in the stern, only occasionally taking
a sly peep, and immediately withdrawing his head, "place
your cap on the rudder, and lie flat in the bottom. If
they are there, and mean to fire at all, they will try
their hands at THAT."
"I hope they are good marksmen, corporal," replied the
man, as raising his right arm, he removed his forage cap
and placed it so that the upper half only could be seen.
"I've no great fancy for those rifle bullets, and give
them a wide berth when I can.


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