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Near or distant, blood or water, it's all one. Ugh! What a calendar of deceit, and lying, and false-witnessing, the sound of any word of kindred opens before me!
The young scout felt deeply the pride of his position. He pointed towards the lower valley with all the dignity he could muster, and uttered only the words, "'Pache! War-path!" There was a dismal chorus of "Ugh!" from all who heard him, but there was not one war-whoop.
"You had no right to ... hem ... with your face in that condition.... And you have not yet told us what happened." "What happened?" "Aye! you promised to tell me if I allowed you to kiss me. 'Tis done...." "I well nigh broke my back," said Master Busy sententiously. "I hurt my knee ... that is what happened.... I am well-nigh choked with soot.... Ugh! ... that is what happened."
He charged his foe but never found him, he cursed and drooled and charged again, until at last Brent said in a tone of great solicitude: "Well, old throw-back, I reckon I'll have to uncouple you now, and let in the twilight! Hate to do it Ugh!" The right swing went smashing out not to the jaw, but at just the proper instant to the pit of Tusk's stomach.
Then it fell into the water and was quickly lost to sight. "Is -is he gone?" gasped Whopper. "Yes," answered Giant. "Shep finished him." "That was no joke," said Snap, when he could speak. He was trembling from head to foot. "A joke? Well, I reckon not!" spluttered Whopper. "Ugh! It makes me shiver to think about it." "Let us get out of here," came from Snap.
At one point he paused long enough to empty the sand from the bag over a fence. The bag itself he afterwards burned in the open fireplace in the room assigned to him at Holt's Hotel. For twenty minutes Jack Benson lay as he had been left. Then he began to stir, and groan. Then he opened his eyes; after a while he managed to sit up. "Ugh!" he grunted. "What's the odor? Liquor! How does that happen?
"He has been putting out corn to get them to come here regularly. My, how I hate that sort of thing! It is bad enough to hunt them fairly, but to feed them and then kill them ugh! I wonder if he has shot any yet." He looked all about keenly, and his face cleared. He knew that if that hunter had killed any Ducks, there would be tell-tale feathers in the blind, and there were none.
"Ugh! take it down," cried the Englishman, "it throws a green color on your face that makes you look like a corpse." Johnston clinked the glass against that of his companion and they drained the glasses. "Hush, what was that?" asked Thorndyke.
"You had better brace up and try, mamma; for as Mr. Fulkerson says, it's as sure as guns. From the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, he's loathsome to me; and he keeps getting loathsomer. Ugh! Goodnight!" "Well, I guess she's given him the grand bounce at last," said Fulkerson to March in one of their moments of confidence at the office.
Immovable. "The window, then," said Harry Girdwood. Back they ran on tip-toe to the window, and pushing open the casement, they looked out. The sea. Between thirty and forty feet below, and lashing the very base of the prison. They turned to each other simultaneously. "Ugh!" "No chance here." "This is a funny go."
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