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Updated: June 29, 2025
He, of course, sat astride on the outer horse named 'Black Bess' and she sat sideways, towards him, on the inner horse named 'Wildfire'. But of course John Thomas was not going to sit discreetly on 'Black Bess', holding the brass bar. Round they spun and heaved, in the light.
It grew to be a roar, yet it seemed distant. Would the great desert river stop Wildfire in his flight? Slone doubted it. He surmounted the ridge, to find the cañon opening in a tremendous gap, and to see down, far down, a glittering, sun-blasted slope merging into a deep, black gulch where a red river swept and chafed and roared. Somehow the river was what he had expected to see.
"But that copy which had been sent to Lady Katrine, surely I did some good there by burning those pages; for if once it had got among her set, it would have spread like wildfire, you know, Clarendon." He acknowledged this, and said, smiling "Be satisfied with yourself, my love; I acknowledge that you made there a capital coup de main." Just then in came Mr.
"Lin, we've trailed thet wild stallion for six weeks. Thet's the longest chase he ever had. He's left his old range. He's cut out his band, an' left them, one by one. We've tried every trick we know on him. An' he's too smart for us. There's a hoss! Why, Lin, we're all but gone to the dogs chasin' Wildfire. An' now I'm done, an' I'm glad of it."
The news spread like wildfire over the islands, and from all directions came the natives crying in multitudes: "Aue, Williamu, Aue, Tama!" And the chief Malietoa, coming into the presence of Mrs. Williams, cried: "Alas, Williamu, Williamu, our father, our father! He has turned his face from us! We shall never see him more! He that brought us the good word of Salvation is gone!
"I am made, mother," he said, "if he takes me up." "Made!" she repeated now to herself. Made into what? A friend had told her that the Forum was ringing with the fame of this new writer, and that from the Palatine to the Subura his poetry was taking like wildfire. She was dumb before such strange comfort. What was this "fame" to which men were willing to sacrifice their citizenship?
While he struggled to extricate himself the thick dust blew away and settled so that he could see. Wildfire lay before him, at the edge of the slide, and now he was not so deeply embedded as he had been up on the slope. He was struggling and probably soon would have been able to get out. The line of fire was close now, but Slone did not fear that.
I ban't 'feared of nothing a hatch-mouthed, crooked-minded man, same as you be, can do. An' if I'm a hound, you 'm a dirty red fox, an' everybody knaws who comes out top when they meet. Steal my gal, would 'e? Gaw your ways, an' mend your ways, an' swallow your bile. I doan't care a flicker o' wildfire for 'e!" Hatch-mouthed = foul mouthed; profane.
A long, gradually ascending trail mounted the last slope, which when close at hand was not so precipitous as it appeared from below. Up there the wind, sucked out of the canyons, swooped and twisted hard. At last Slone led Wildfire over the rim and halted for another breathing-spell.
Their first care was to get something that would soon take fire; but after a little search they found that would be to no purpose, for most of the houses were low, and thatched with flags or rushes, of which the country is full: so they presently made some wildfire, as we call it, by wetting a little powder in the palms of their hands; and in a quarter of an hour they set the town on fire in four or five places, and particularly that house where the Indians were not gone to bed.
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