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Three More John Silence Stories by Algernon Blackwood
page 51 of 172 (29%)
be made.

And during this busy sunset hour of unloading before the dark, the souls
of my companions adopted the trick of presenting themselves very vividly
anew before my mind, and introducing themselves afresh.

In reality, I suppose, our party was in no sense singular. In the
conventional life at home they certainly seemed ordinary enough, but
suddenly, as we passed through these gates of the wilderness, I saw them
more sharply than before, with characters stripped of the atmosphere of
men and cities. A complete change of setting often furnishes a
startlingly new view of people hitherto held for well-known; they
present another facet of their personalities. I seemed to see my own
party almost as new people--people I had not known properly hitherto,
people who would drop all disguises and henceforth reveal themselves as
they really were. And each one seemed to say: "Now you will see me as I
am. You will see me here in this primitive life of the wilderness
without clothes. All my masks and veils I have left behind in the abodes
of men. So, look out for surprises!"

The Reverend Timothy Maloney helped me to put up the tents, long
practice making the process easy, and while he drove in pegs and
tightened ropes, his coat off, his flannel collar flying open without a
tie, it was impossible to avoid the conclusion that he was cut out for
the life of a pioneer rather than the church. He was fifty years of age,
muscular, blue-eyed and hearty, and he took his share of the work, and
more, without shirking. The way he handled the axe in cutting down
saplings for the tent-poles was a delight to see, and his eye in judging
the level was unfailing.

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