Nick of the Woods; Or, Adventures of Prairie LifeBird, Robert Montgomery
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Nick of the Woods; Or, Adventures of Prairie Life
Bird, Robert Montgomery
Frontier and pioneer life -- Kentucky -- Fiction
all was silent around him, save the deep breathing of the sleepers at his
side. "Who spoke?" he demanded in a whisper, but received no reply.
"River,--Upper and Lower Ford,--danger?--" he muttered: "now I would have
sworn some one spoke to me; and yet I must have dreamed it. Strange
things, dreams,--thoughts in freedom, loosed from the chains of
association,--temporary mad-fits, undoubtedly: marvellous impressions
they produce on the organs of sense; see, hear, smell, taste, touch, more
exquisitely _without_ the organs than _with_ them--What's the use of
organs? There's the poser--I think--I--" but here he ceased thinking
altogether, his philosophy having served the purpose such philosophy
usually does, and wrapped him a second time in the arms of Morpheus. He
opened his eyes almost immediately, as he thought; but his morning nap
had lasted half an hour; the dawn was already purple and violet in the
sky, his companions had left his side, and the hum of voices and the
sound of footsteps in and around the Station, told him that his
fellow-exiles were already preparing to resume their journey.
"A brave morrow to you, captain!" said the commander of the fortress, the
thunder of whose footsteps, as he approached the house with uncommonly
fierce strides, had perhaps broken his slumbers. A frown was on his brow,
and the grasp of his hand, in which every finger seemed doing the duty of
a boa-constrictor, spoke of a spirit up in arms, and wrestling with
passion.
"What is the matter?" asked Roland.
"Matter that consarns you and me more than any other two persons in the
etarnal world!" said Bruce, with such energy of utterance as nothing-but
rage could supply. "Thar has been a black wolf in the pin-fold,--_alias_,
as they used to say at the court-house, Captain Ralph Stackpole; and
the end of it is, war I never to tell another truth in my life, that your
blooded brown horse has absquatulated!"
"_Absquatulated!"_ echoed Forrester, amazed as much at the word as at the
fierce visage of his friend,--"what is that? Is the horse hurt?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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