John BrentH. Holt, 1876 - 359 էջ |
Բովանդակություն
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Այլ խմբագրություններ - View all
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Armstrong band of horses beautiful better Biddulph brave Bridger brother brutes camp cheerful Clitheroe's coal-mine comrade daugh daughter dear Don Fulano DRAPETOMANIA dwarf Ellen England eyes face faith fancy father fellow Fort Bridger Fort Laramie gallop gave gentle Gentleman Hugh Gerrian goan gone grass gray gray wolf grew hand head heard heart Hippodamos hoofs hope horse Jake Shamberlain Jim Robinson John Brent journey knew lady Lancashire Laramie Larrap look Luggernel Alley miles Miss Clitheroe Mormon caravan morning mountains Murker never nigger night noble Padiham Pathie Pendle Hill perhaps Pike plains poor prairie pretty Pumps quartz ride rode rough Ruby Saints scene seemed seen Short's Cut-off Sizzum soul story stranger Swerger Sybaris talk thar ther thought took train turned voice Wade wagon walked whisper woman words wounded young
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Էջ 222 - I whispered, — for the awe of death was upon us. I mounted. Brent sprang up behind. I ride light for a tall man. Brent is the slightest body of an athlete I ever saw. Fulano stood steady till we were firm in our seats. Then he tore down the defile. Here was that vast reserve of power; here the tireless spirit; here the hoof striking true as a thunderbolt, where the brave eye saw footing ; here that writhing agony of speed ; here the great promise fulfilled, the great heart thrilling to mine, the...
Էջ 210 - The trail ! " I cried, " the trail ! " They sprang toward me. Brent followed the line with his eye. He galloped forward, with a look of triumph. Suddenly I saw him fling himself half out of his saddle, and clutch at some object. Still going at speed, and holding on by one leg alone...
Էջ 14 - ... and, tethering him to a bush with the lariat, stood watching the splendid motions of this free steed of the prairie. He was an American horse, — so they distinguish in California one brought from the old States, — A SUPERB YOUNG STALLION, PERFECTLY BLACK, WITHOUT MARK. It was magnificent to see him, as he circled about me, fire in his eye, pride in his nostril, tail flying like a banner, power and grace from tip to tip. No one would ever mount him, or ride him, unless it was his royal pleasure...
Էջ 202 - He grew very white as he spoke, and again Pumps led off by a neck, we ranging up instantly. " They will make for the Luggernel Springs. The alley is the only gate through the mountains towards the Arkansaw. If they can get by there, they are safe. They can strike off New Mexico way ; or keep on to the States out of the line of emigration or any Mormon pursuit. The Springs are the only water to be had at this season, without digging, anywhere in that quarter. They must go there. We are no farther...
Էջ 30 - ... forward. The black gave a tearing bound, and quickened his pace, but still waited the will of his pursuer. They were just upon us, chased and chaser, thundering down the slope, when the herdsman, checking his wrist at the turn, flung his lasso straight as an arrow for the black's proud head.
Էջ 200 - 11 keep this long easy lope for a while, and I '11 tell you my plan. "They have gone to the southward, — those two men. They could not get away in any other direction. I have heard Murker say he knows all the country between here and the Arkansaw. Thank Heaven ! so do I, foot by foot.
Էջ 201 - Fulano's lariat was cut. The wind lulled; and there came a sound of horses, and another sound, which I then thought a fevered fancy of my own, a far-away scream of a woman.
Էջ 212 - ... in the dry mud of a fled torrent. Everywhere a straight path, pointing for that deepening gap in the sierra, Luggernel Alley, the only gate of escape. Brent's unerring judgment had divined the course aright. On he led, charging along the trail, as if he were trampling already on the carcasses of the pursued. On he led and we followed, drawing nearer, nearer to our goal. Our horses suffered bitterly for water. Some five hours we had ridden without a pause. Not one drop or sign of water in all...
Էջ 219 - A pass where a calm traveller would go quietly picking his steps, thankful if each hour counted him a safe mile. Terrible riding ! Madness to go as we went ! Horse and man, any moment either might shatter every limb. But man and horse neither can know what he can do, until he has dared and done. On we went, with the old frenzy growing tenser. Heart almost broken with eagerness. No whipping or spurring. Our horses were a part of ourselves. While we could go, they would go. Since the water, they were...