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Hudson, W. H. (William Henry), 1841-1922

"Green Mansions: a romance of the tropical forest"

And in what terrible circumstances! At
intervals a flash of lightning would throw a vivid blue glare
down into the interior of the wood and only serve to show that I
had lost myself in a place where even at noon in cloudless
weather progress would be most difficult; and now the light would
only last a moment, to be followed by thick gloom; and I could
only tear blindly on, bruising and lacerating my flesh at every
step, falling again and again, only to struggle up and on again,
now high above the surface, climbing over prostrate trees and
branches, now plunged to my middle in a pool or torrent of water.
Hopeless--utterly hopeless seemed all my mad efforts; and at each
pause, when I would stand exhausted, gasping for breath, my
throbbing heart almost suffocating me, a dull, continuous,
teasing pain in my bitten leg served to remind me that I had but
a little time left to exist--that by delaying at first I had
allowed my only chance of salvation to slip by.
How long a time I spent fighting my way through this dense black
wood I know not; perhaps two or three hours, only to me the hours
seemed like years of prolonged agony.


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