The Ghost Camp or the Avengers

Fiction & Literature
Cover of the book The Ghost Camp or the Avengers by Rolf Boldrewood, anboco
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
Author: Rolf Boldrewood ISBN: 9783736410312
Publisher: anboco Publication: August 20, 2016
Imprint: Language: English
Author: Rolf Boldrewood
ISBN: 9783736410312
Publisher: anboco
Publication: August 20, 2016
Imprint:
Language: English

A wild and desolate land; dreary, even savage, to the unaccustomed eye. Forest-clothed hills towering above the faint, narrow track leading eastward, along which a man had been leading a tired horse; he was now resting against a granite boulder. A dark, mist-enshrouded day, during which the continuous driving showers had soaked through an overcoat, now become so heavy that he carried it across his arm. A fairly heavy valise, above a pair of blankets, was strapped in front of his saddle. He was prepared for bush travelling—although his term of "colonial experience," judging from his ruddy cheek and general get-up, had been limited. A rift in the over-hanging cloud-wrack, through which the low sunrays broke with a sudden gleam, showed a darksome mountain range to the south, with summit and sides, snow-clad and dazzling white. The wayfarer stood up and stared at the apparition: "a good omen," thought he, "perhaps a true landmark. 2The fellows at the mail-change told me to steer in a general way for the highest snow peak, which they called 'the Bogong,' or some such name. Though this track seems better marked, these mountain roads, as they call them—goat paths would be the better name—for there is not a wheel mark to be seen—one needs the foot of a chamois and the eye of our friend up there." Here he looked upward, where one of the great birds of prey, half hawk, half eagle, as the pioneers decided, floated with moveless wing above crag and hollow. Then rising with an effort, and taking the bridle rein, he began to lead the weary horse up the rocky ascent. "Poor old Gilpin!" he soliloquised, "you are more knocked up than I am—and yet you have the look of a clever cob—such as we should have fancied in England for a roadster, or a covert hack. But roads are roads there, while in this benighted land, people either don't know how to make them, or seem to do their cross-country work without them. I wonder if I shall fall in with bed and board to-night.

View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart

A wild and desolate land; dreary, even savage, to the unaccustomed eye. Forest-clothed hills towering above the faint, narrow track leading eastward, along which a man had been leading a tired horse; he was now resting against a granite boulder. A dark, mist-enshrouded day, during which the continuous driving showers had soaked through an overcoat, now become so heavy that he carried it across his arm. A fairly heavy valise, above a pair of blankets, was strapped in front of his saddle. He was prepared for bush travelling—although his term of "colonial experience," judging from his ruddy cheek and general get-up, had been limited. A rift in the over-hanging cloud-wrack, through which the low sunrays broke with a sudden gleam, showed a darksome mountain range to the south, with summit and sides, snow-clad and dazzling white. The wayfarer stood up and stared at the apparition: "a good omen," thought he, "perhaps a true landmark. 2The fellows at the mail-change told me to steer in a general way for the highest snow peak, which they called 'the Bogong,' or some such name. Though this track seems better marked, these mountain roads, as they call them—goat paths would be the better name—for there is not a wheel mark to be seen—one needs the foot of a chamois and the eye of our friend up there." Here he looked upward, where one of the great birds of prey, half hawk, half eagle, as the pioneers decided, floated with moveless wing above crag and hollow. Then rising with an effort, and taking the bridle rein, he began to lead the weary horse up the rocky ascent. "Poor old Gilpin!" he soliloquised, "you are more knocked up than I am—and yet you have the look of a clever cob—such as we should have fancied in England for a roadster, or a covert hack. But roads are roads there, while in this benighted land, people either don't know how to make them, or seem to do their cross-country work without them. I wonder if I shall fall in with bed and board to-night.

More books from anboco

Cover of the book Summa Theologica by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book The Life and Times of Daniel Boone - Hunter, Soldier and Pioneer by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book Round the Corner by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book A Bundle of Letters From Over the Sea by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book The Letters of Horace Walpole, Earl of Orford IV by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book A True Account of the Voyage of the Nottinghar Thames to New-England by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book Radiation by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book Prairie-Dog Town by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book General Nelson's Scout by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book Siegfried and The Twilight of the Gods: The Ring of the Niblung II by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book Yule Logs: Longmans' Christmas Annual 1898 by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book Divine Comedy (Cary) by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book Lives of the Saints by Rolf Boldrewood
Cover of the book Women of History: Selected from the Writings of Standard Authors by Rolf Boldrewood
We use our own "cookies" and third party cookies to improve services and to see statistical information. By using this website, you agree to our Privacy Policy