The U. P. Trail by Zane Grey
page 18 of 534 (03%)
page 18 of 534 (03%)
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"Forget him, child. And forget your mother's guilt! ... I've suffered. I've repented.... All I ask of God is to take you safely home to Allison Lee--the father whom you have never known." The night hour before dawn grew colder and blacker. A great silence seemed wedged down between the ebony hills. The stars were wan. No cry of wolf or moan of wind disturbed the stillness. And the stars grew warmer. The black east changed and paled. Dawn was at hand. An opaque and obscure grayness filled the world; all had changed, except that strange, oppressive, and vast silence of the wild. That silence was broken by the screeching, blood-curdling yell of the Sioux. At times these bloody savages attacked without warning and in the silence of the grave; again they sent out their war-cries, chilling the hearts of the bravest. Perhaps that warning yell was given only when doom was certain. Horn realized the dread omen and accepted it. He called the fugitives to him and, choosing the best-protected spot among the rocks and wagons, put the women in the center. "Now, men--if it's the last for us--let it be fight! Mebbe we can hold out till the troops come." Then in the gray gloom of dawn he took a shovel; prying up a piece of sod, he laid it aside and began to dig. And while he dug he listened for another war-screech and gazed often and intently into |
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