Summary

Edward Sylvester Ellis The Three Trappers; or, The Apache Chief's Ruse

Florence was seated on the ground about a dozen feet back of them, not secured or bound in any manner.
Why need she be? What chance had she of fleeing? Was there ever a moment when the black eyes of an Apache were not fixed upon her, and were those of Cherouka ever removed? No; she was too sensible of thinking of such a step.
Yet as the keen eyes of the young hunter rested upon the scene, he saw there was an opportunity which might never come again. If she could only be apprised of the proximity of her friends, there was no reason why she should not give her enemies the slip.
Source: Gutenberg

Edward Sylvester Ellis The Three Trappers; or, The Apache Chief's Ruse

I thank you; we hunters are hardly in a condition to appear in the presence of refined ladies, as I judge Miss Brandon to be, and our lives are such that we should cut a sorry figure, if we attempted to do so.”
“But you talk like one who has not always led a hunter’s life.”
“I have some education, but at present, I am simply a hunter and trapper.”
Florence Brandon! Little did Mr. Templeton dream of the strange emotions awakened in the breast of Fred Wainwright, the young hunter, at the mention of that name.
Source: Gutenberg

Edward Sylvester Ellis The Three Trappers; or, The Apache Chief's Ruse

I’ve a good notion to give the wagon a rattle so as to wake her up——Injins! Injins!”
At that instant, the heavy hand of the young hunter grasped the Yankee’s shoulder, and, fully assured that he was in the power of the dreaded Cherouka, he sprang several feet from the ground, and shouted at the top of his voice; but, confronting Wainwright, and immediately comprehending his mistake, added in fully as loud a tone,
“No Injins! No Injins! I was mistaken! Jingo! what’s the use of scaring a fellow that way?”
Source: Gutenberg

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