Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 23, 2025
Like a rosy curtain, a tall sumach bush hid the trail's beginning; the overhanging bluffs concealed it from above; the tangle of shrubs and vines which covered the bank from the water's edge screened it from below. Hardly more than a rabbit track, a narrow shelf against the wall of the steep, it ran along for a dozen yards to stop where a ledge of moss-covered rock thrust itself from the soil.
The women think it strange of you the mother does, anyway, you may never quite know what her daughter thinks unless she wishes you to know, but I'm sure she thinks strange of you. She ought to." "I know. I'm perfectly well and strong. The trail's open now, and I'll go I'll go back where I came from. You've been good to me I can't say any more now." "Smoke a pipe, lad, smoke a pipe."
Her closed eyelids were dark and seamed with fine folds, the cheek bones showed under her skin, tanned to a dry brown, its rich bloom withered. Round her forehead and ears her hair hung in ragged locks, its black gloss hidden under the trail's red dust. Even her youth had left her, she seemed double her age. It was as if he looked at the woman she would be twenty years from now.
"He ain't had time," answered the giant. "Ain't had time? All these days?" "Wait till the dog gets well. He'll follow the dog to Elkhead." "Why, Mac, the trail's been washed out long ago. That wind the other day would of knocked out any trail less'n a big waggon." "It won't wash out the trail for that dog," said Mac Strann calmly.
Charley sensed the situation and set himself for a tussle. "Let them know you're boss," he remembered Mr. Marlin had said to him. So he stepped toward the man and said quietly, "I neglected to say that I want this trail cleared to its original width. Just take out those bushes you have missed." "The trail's wide enough," said the man, sulkily. "Lots of trails aren't half as wide as that."
"Of course those niggers are not on the run in broad day, but their trail's getting cold!" "You're not as bad-mannered as I am," I laughed as we mounted, but their allusion to hounds made me enjoy the burden of my six-shooter. As we ambled off, "What were you going to say," one asked me, "about our 'theory, or something?" "Oh! I see you think Mrs.
But, the collie was not inclined to caution. He hailed with evident relief the sight of open spaces and of light after the gloomy trail's windings. And he broke into a canter. Fearing to call aloud, Brice chirped and hissed softly at the careering dog. The collie, at sound of the recall, hesitated, then began to trot back toward Gavin.
To the left the chaparral rose from the trail's edge in dense solidity, exhaling rich earth scents and the aromatic breath of pine and bay. The roadbed was torn to pieces, ruts knee-high; the stones, washed loose of soil, ringing to the blow of a moving hoof. A rider, advancing slowly, had noticed this and with a jerk of his rein, directed his horse to the oozy grass along the side.
Now, this is for the fellow on the roan horse. Down you come, you shave-headed bastard!" "I'll give that lad on the trail's edge a shower of lead. If you don't hit the river, I'm a liar! Now: look at him!" "Oh, come on, Anastasio don't be cruel; lend me your rifle. Come along, one shot, just one!"
For the first time he had briefly mistaken the trail; they were on the steep flank of the mountain; he turned and rode back in her general direction but some hundred yards lower on the slope. "The trail's down here," he announced shortly. He did not lift his eyes to her face, did not note the droop of the weary body.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking