In the Rocky MountainsKingston, William Henry Giles
General
In the Rocky Mountains
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Frontier and pioneer life -- Fiction; Rocky Mountains -- Fiction
Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
In the Rocky Mountains, by W H G Kingston.
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This is a very nicely written little book. It is easy to read or listen
to, yet is full of real-sounding dangerous situations from which the
young heroes escape with difficulty.
The hero and his sister, Ralph and Clarice, are from a farming family in
the middle states of America. The father, unwillingly followed by the
mother, decide to move to the west, but unfortunately first the mother,
and then the father, dies, and the two young people are left without an
adult to guide and lead them. Luckily, at that moment, a wagon train
comes by, and the children hail it. The man in charge of the wagon
train realises he is actually the uncle of these children, and agrees to
take them with him, becoming their greatly beloved Uncle Jeff.
Much of the rest of the book is taken up with various confrontations
with Indians, with wolves and a bear or two thrown in for good measure.
You will enjoy reading this book, and it certainly converts well to an
audiobook so that you can listen to it.
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IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, BY W H G KINGSTON.
CHAPTER ONE.
HOW UNCLE JEFF CAME TO "ROARING WATER"--THE SITUATION OF THE FARM--THE
INMATES OF THE HOUSE--MY SISTER CLARICE AND BLACK RACHEL--UNCLE JEFF--
BARTLE WON AND GIDEON TUTTLE--ARRIVAL OF LIEUTENANT BROADSTREET AND HIS
MEN--THE TROOPERS QUARTERED IN THE HUT--OUR FARM-LABOURERS--SUDDEN
APPEARANCE OF THE REDSKIN WINNEMAK--HIS FORMER VISIT TO THE FARM--
CLARICE ENCOUNTERS HIM AT THE SPRING--BADLY WOUNDED--KINDLY TREATED BY
CLARICE AND RACHEL--HIS GRATITUDE.
We were most of us seated round a blazing fire of pine logs, which
crackled away merrily, sending the sparks about in all directions, at
the no small risk of setting fire to garments of a lighter texture than
ours. Although the flowers were blooming on the hill-sides, in the
woods and valleys, and by the margins of the streams; humming-birds were
flitting about gathering their dainty food; and the bears, having
finished the operation of licking their paws, had come out in search of
more substantial fare; and the buffalo had been seen migrating to the
north,--the wind at night blew keenly from off the snow-capped
mountain-tops which, at no great distance, rose above us, and rendered a
fire acceptable even to us hardy backwoodsmen.
Our location was far in advance of any settlement in that latitude of
North America, for Uncle Jeff Crockett "could never abide," he averred,
"being in the rear of his fellow-creatures." Whenever he had before
found people gathering around him at the spot where he had pitched his
tent, or rather, put up his log-hut, he had sold his property (always to
advantage, however), and yoking his team, had pushed on westward, with a
few sturdy followers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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