SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 77 | Next

Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Young Forester"


Already his head was nodding on his breast. It made me furious to see him
sitting so uncomfortably, sagging in the lasso.
I tried to beat down my excitement, but there was a tingling all over me
that would not subside. But I soon saw that I might have a long wait. The
Mexican did not go to sleep, so I had time to cool off.
The campfire gradually burned out, and the white glow changed to red. One
of the men snored in a way that sounded like a wheezy whistle. Coyotes
howled in the woods, and the longer I listened to the long, strange howls
the better I liked them. The roar in the wind had died down to a moaning. I
thought of myself lying there, with my skin prickling and my eyes sharp on
the darkening forms. I thought of the nights I had spent with Hal in the
old woods at home. How full the present seemed! My breast swelled, my hand
gripped my revolver, my eyes pierced the darkness, and I would not have
been anywhere else for the world.
Greaser smoked out his cigarette, and began to nod. That was the signal for
me. I crawled noiselessly from the tree. When I found myself going down
into the hollow, I stopped and rose to my feet. The forest was so pitchy
black that I could not tell the trees from the darkness. I groped to the
left, trying to circle. Once I snapped a twig; it cracked like a
pistol-shot, and my heart stopped beating, then began to thump.


Pages:
65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89