California -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, American; Western stories
But he was presently awakened by something which at first he could
not determine to be a noise or an intangible sensation. It was a deep
throbbing through the silence of the night--a pulsation that seemed even
to be communicated to the rude bed whereon he lay. As it came nearer
it separated itself into a labored, monotonous panting, continuous, but
distinct from an equally monotonous but fainter beating of the waters,
as if the whole track of the river were being coursed and trodden by a
multitude of swiftly trampling feet. A strange feeling took possession
of him--half of fear, half of curious expectation. It was coming nearer.
He rose, leaped hurriedly from the wagon, and ran to the bank. The night
was dark; at first he saw nothing before him but the steel-black sky
pierced with far-spaced, irregularly scattered stars. Then there seemed
to be approaching him, from the left, another and more symmetrical
constellation--a few red and blue stars high above the river, with
three compact lines of larger planetary lights flashing towards him and
apparently on his own level. It was almost upon him; he involuntarily
drew back as the strange phenomenon swept abreast of where he stood, and
resolved itself into a dark yet airy bulk, whose vagueness, topped by
enormous towers, was yet illuminated by those open squares of light
that he had taken for stars, but which he saw now were brilliantly lit
windows.
Their vivid rays shot through the reeds and sent broad bands across the
meadow, the stationary wagon, and the slumbering oxen. But all this was
nothing to the inner life they disclosed through lifted curtains and
open blinds, which was the crowning revelation of this strange and
wonderful spectacle. Elegantly dressed men and women moved through
brilliantly lit and elaborately gilt saloons; in one a banquet seemed
to be spread, served by white-jacketed servants; in another were men
playing cards around marble-topped tables; in another the light flashed
back again from the mirrors and glistening glasses and decanters of
a gorgeous refreshment saloon; in smaller openings there was the shy
disclosure of dainty white curtains and velvet lounges of more intimate
apartments.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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