Guy Rivers: A Tale of GeorgiaSimms, William Gilmore
History
Guy Rivers: A Tale of Georgia
Simms, William Gilmore
Georgia -- History -- 1775-1865 -- Fiction; Gold mines and mining -- Fiction
To his great wonder, however, nothing but women, of all sizes and ages,
met his sight. In vain did he look around for the men who brought him.
They were no longer to be seen, and so silent had been their passage
out, that the unfortunate pedler was compelled to satisfy himself with
the belief that persons of the gentler sex had been in truth his
captors.
Had he, indeed, given up the struggle so easily? The thought was
mortifying enough; and yet, when he looked around him, he grew more
satisfied with his own efforts at resistance. He had never seen such
strongly-built women in his life: scarcely one of them but could easily
have overthrown him, without stratagem, in single combat. The faces of
many of them were familiar to him; but where had he seen them before?
His memory failed him utterly, and he gave himself up to his
bewilderment.
He looked around, and the scene was well calculated to affect a nervous
mind. It was a fit scene for the painter of the supernatural. The small
apartment in which they were, was formed in great part from the natural
rock; where a fissure presented itself, a huge pine-tree, overthrown so
as to fill the vacuity, completed what nature had left undone; and,
bating the one or two rude cavities left here and there in the
sides--themselves so covered as to lie hidden from all without--there
was all the compactness of a regularly-constructed dwelling. A single
and small lamp, pendent from a beam that hung over the room, gave a
feeble light, which, taken in connection with that borrowed from
without, served only to make visible the dark indistinct of the place.
With something dramatic in their taste, the old women had dressed
themselves in sombre habiliments, according to the general aspect of all
things around them; and, as the unfortunate pedler continued to gaze in
wonderment, his fear grew with every progressive step in his
observation. One by one, however, the old women commenced stirring, and,
as they moved, now before and now behind him--his eyes following them on
every side--he at length discovered, amid the group, the small and
delicate form of the very being for whom he sought.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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