eBooks - Literature - Classics - Bret Harte - Snow-Bound at Eagle's
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For some moments profound silence and darkness had accompanied a Sierran stage-coach towards the summit. The huge, dim bulk of the vehicle, swaying noiselessly on its straps, glided onward and upward as if obeying some mysterious impulse from behind, so faint and indefinite appeared its relation to the viewless and silent horses ahead. The shadowy trunks of tall trees that seemed to approach the coach windows, look in, and then move hurriedly away, were the only distinguishable objects...
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| For some moments profound silence and darkness had accompanied a Sierran stage-coach towards the summit. The huge, dim bulk of the vehicle, swaying noiselessly on its straps, glided onward and upward as if obeying some mysterious impulse from behind, so faint and indefinite appeared its relation to the viewless and silent horses ahead. The shadowy trunks of tall trees that seemed to approach the coach windows, look in, and then move hurriedly away, were the only distinguishable objects. |
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| For some moments profound silence and darkness had accompanied a Sierran stage-coach towards the summit. The huge, dim bulk of the vehicle, swaying noiselessly on its straps, glided onward and upward as if obeying some mysterious impulse from behind, so faint and indefinite appeared its relation to the viewless and silent horses ahead. The shadowy trunks of tall trees that seemed to approach the coach windows, look in, and then move hurriedly away, were the only distinguishable objects. Yet even these were so vague and unreal that they might have been the mere phantoms of some dream of the half-sleeping passengers; for the thickly-strewn needles of the pine, that choked the way and deadened all sound, yielded under the silently-crushing wheels a faint soporific odor that seemed to benumb their senses, already slipping back into unconsciousness during the long ascent. Suddenly the stage stopped. |
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| The speed and fury with which Clinch's cavalcade swept on in the direction of the mysterious shot left Hale no chance for reflection. He was conscious of shouting incoherently with the others, of urging his horse irresistibly forward, of momentarily expecting to meet or overtake something, but without any further thought. The figures of Clinch and Rawlins immediately before him shut out the prospect of the narrowing trail. Once only, taking advantage of a sudden halt that threw them confusedly together, he managed to ask a question. |
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| Bret Harte (1836-1902) was a 19th century writer most famous for his contributions to western literature. When his widowed mother moved their family to California in 1854, he found work as a miner, messenger, printer, and journalist, working with such luminaries as Mark Twain, Charles Warren Stoddard, Prentice Mulford. He came into his own as a writer, however, with "The Luck of Roaring Camp" published in the Overland Monthly (which he also edited). As his fame spread, he continued writing about the American West. In 1871 he moved back east and pursued a political career as well as continuing to write fiction and poetry. In 1878 he was appointed United States Counsul at Crefeld, Germany. He was transferred to Scotland in 1880. He died in Camberely, England on May 6, 1902. |
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eBooks - Titles - Authors - Literature - Classics - Bret Harte - Snow-Bound at Eagle's eBooks