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Updated: June 6, 2025
All about him was dark except the glint of a rifle across the saddle. The face under the sombrero was only a shadow. Shefford kicked the fire-logs and a brighter blaze lightened the scene. Then he saw this stranger a little more clearly, and made out an unusually large head, broad dark face, a sinister tight-shut mouth, and gleaming black eyes. Those eyes were unmistakably hostile.
She's faintish .... And see here, Henninger " Shefford led the girl away with a hand in apparent carelessness on her arm. After a few rods she walked with a freer step and then a swifter. He found it necessary to make that hold on her arm a real one, so as to keep her from walking too fast. No one, however, appeared to observe them.
Other works were Rural Tales , Wild Flowers , The Banks of the Wye , and May Day with the Muses . An attempt to carry on business as a bookseller failed, his health gave way, his reason was threatened, and he d. in great poverty at Shefford in 1823. B.'s poetry is smooth, correct, and characterised by taste and good feeling, but lacks fire and energy.
Shefford seemed full of a strange pleasure, and the hours flew by. Nack-yal still wanted to be everlastingly turning off the trail, and, moreover, now he wanted to go faster. He was eager, restless, dissatisfied. At noon the pack-train descended into a deep draw, well covered with cedar and sage. There was plenty of grass and shade, but no water.
And it was at this moment that Shefford, divining whence his help was to come, embraced all that wild and speaking nature around and above him and surrendered himself utterly. "I am young. I am free. I have my life to live," he said. "I'll be a man. I'll take what comes. Let me learn here!"
Where had the girl been born what had her life been? Shefford was intensely curious about her. She seemed as different from any other women he had known as this rare canyon lily was different from the tame flowers at home. On the return up the slope she outstripped him. She climbed lightly and tirelessly.
"Reckon the judge was pretty decent," presently said Joe. "Yes, I thought so. He might have " But Shefford did not finish that sentence. "How'd the thing end?" "It ended all right." "Was there no conviction no sentence?" Shefford felt a curious eagerness. "Naw," he snorted. "That court might have saved its breath." "I suppose.
That night Shefford found her waiting for him in the moonlight a girl who was as transparent as crystal-clear water, who had left off the somber gloom with the black hood, who tremulously embraced happiness without knowing it, who was one moment timid and wild like a half-frightened fawn, and the next, exquisitely half-conscious of what it meant to be thought dead, but to be alive, to be awakening, wondering, palpitating, and to be loved.
Shefford experienced again a feeling that had been novel to him and it was that he was loose, free, unanchored, ready to veer with the wind. From the foot of the slope the water hole had appeared to be a few hundred rods out in the valley. But the small size of the figures made Shefford doubt; and he had to travel many times a few hundred rods before those figures began to grow.
Come far way back toward rising sun. Come stay here long." Nas Ta Bega's dark eyes were fixed steadily upon Shefford. He reflected that he could not remember having felt so penetrating a gaze. But neither the Indian's eyes nor face gave any clue to his thoughts. "Navajo no savvy Jesus Christ," said the Indian, and his voice rolled out low and deep. Shefford felt both amaze and pain.
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