A Pictorial Ode to the Shawangunk Landscape

Sam was a man of great physical strength, and a fleet runner. Very few of the savages could outstrip him in an even race. But the Indians were between him and the open country, and the only way left was toward the precipice. He knew all the paths better than did his pursuers, and he had already devised a plan of escape, while his enemies were calculating either on effecting his capture, or on his throwing himself from the precipice to avoid a more horrid death at their hands. He ran directly to the point, and pausing to give a shout of defiance at his pursuers, leaped from a cliff over forty feet in height. As he expected, his fall was broken by a clump of hemlocks, into the thick foliage of which he had directed his jump. He escaped with only a few slight bruises.