Our Fellows; Or, Skirmishes with the Swamp Dragoons

My name is Joseph Coleman, and at the time my story begins I was sixteen years of age. Mark was my twin brother; and he looked and acted so much like me, or else I looked and ac...

We found our horses at the door, saddled and bridled, and held by two negro boys, who, judging by the tugging, pulling and scolding which they kept up, found it something of a t...

“Look here, old gentleman,” said he, with a pretty show of courage, “you had better not try to hurt any body with that knife. Put it away, and go back to camp where you belong.”

Mark was the hero of the evening, and after he had entertained us with a glowing description of his adventure with the Indians, we related to him the exciting and amusing incide...

During the progress of his story we learned that General Mason, according to the evidence he had given before the squire, had that morning returned from New Orleans, where he ha...

If there was any thing for which Mark was noted, besides his skill as a wrestler, it was the coolness and deliberation with which he acted in times of danger.

The place was found to be deserted. There were plenty of footprints in the mud on the top of the cliff, and that was all that remained to tell of the thrilling incidents that ha...

The events of the afternoon had already been thoroughly discussed, but the matter was taken up again when we arrived, and after that the mare’s mysterious disappearance was the...

After Sandy and I left the camp, our fellows busied themselves in various ways—Duke kindling a fire, Herbert gathering a supply of wood, and Mark whittling out some spits on whi...

I do not believe that any five boys in the world ever felt more astonished or elated over a stroke of good fortune than we did at the unexpected success that had attended our ch...

It was Barney Redman, the leader of the Swamp Dragoons. He had thrown himself flat on his back to escape observation, and was holding in the leash a gaunt, fierce-looking hound,...

When the Swamp Dragoons reached the place where I was standing, they gathered about me, and looked inquiringly at Tom Mason, as if waiting for him to say something. The latter a...

When Tom had disappeared, I settled back on my elbow, and listened to the approaching footsteps, which slowly mounted the creaking stairs and stopped at my door. A key turned in...

“That is another act which you can lay to my charge,” replied my fellow prisoner. “I knew by the way you fellows looked and acted that day that it would be well for me to keep a...

Having disposed of the dogs, Tom stepped cautiously into the house, and I moved up as near the door as I dared, to take the guns as he passed them out, not forgetting meanwhile...

I have always thought that, next to a hunting-horn, there is no music in the world equal to that of a pack of staunch hounds in full cry, nor a prettier sight to be seen than th...

There was not a man, dog, or even a horse in sight; and having satisfied ourselves on this point, we sprang out of our concealment, and ran toward the cabin.

“Yes, sir,” said Luke Redman, who seemed to grow more and more elated the longer he thought of his new idea, “that’s the way I’ll bring you down from thar. Now, will you give up...

“Hello, Jim,” exclaimed Mark, “you are just the chap I have been looking for! Now I will show you what a white boy can do in the way of giving a rascally Indian a good beating.”

THE prisoner, whom Mark had left securely bound, was standing in front of the mouth of the passage-way, trying to peer through the darkness that obscured it, and over his should...