Tales from the Veld
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Оглавление
Glanville Ernest. Tales from the Veld
Chapter One. Abe Pike’s Poison Bark
Chapter Two. Uncle Abe’s Big Shoot
Chapter Three. Uncle Abe, the Baboon, and the Tiger
Chapter Four. Abe Pike and the Whip
Chapter Five. The Spook of the Hare
Chapter Six. The Baboon and the Tortoise
Chapter Seven. The Jackal and the Wren
Chapter Eight. Abe Pike and the Honey-Bird
Chapter Nine. Uncle Abe and the Wild Dogs
Chapter Ten. The Black Mamba
Chapter Eleven. How the Melons Disappeared
Chapter Twelve. Abe Pike and the Big Fish
Chapter Thirteen. The Black Tiger Again
Chapter Fourteen. Buffalo Bull and the Shorthorn
Chapter Fifteen. The End of the Tiger
Chapter Sixteen. Where the Quails came from
Chapter Seventeen. Abe Pike and the Ghon-ya
Chapter Eighteen. Abe Pike and the Kaffir War
Chapter Nineteen. A Black Christmas
Chapter Twenty. Tracking the Kosa Chief
Chapter Twenty One. The Boom of the Drum
Chapter Twenty Two. The Red Diamond
Chapter Twenty Three. Abe’s Diamond Mine
Chapter Twenty Four. How Abe lost his Water Barrel
Chapter Twenty Five. Abe Pike Scouting
Chapter Twenty Six. End of the Scouting
Chapter Twenty Seven. Abe and the Tiger Trap
Chapter Twenty Eight. Abe and the Eagles
Chapter Twenty Nine. Abe’s Billy Goat
Chapter Thirty. A Kaffir’s Play
Chapter Thirty One. A Bugle Call
Chapter Thirty Two. The “Red” Kaffirs!
Chapter Thirty Three. Out of the Deep Sea
Chapter Thirty Four. The Young Burgher
Chapter Thirty Five. Uncle Abe and the Snake
Отрывок из книги
Abe Pike – Old Abe Pike, or Uncle Abe as he was variously called – lived in a one-horse shanty in the division of Albany, Cape Colony. I won’t locate his farm, for various reasons, beyond saying that there is a solitary blue-gum on the south side of the house and the rudiments of a cowshed on the north. Uncle Abe was not ambitious; he was slow, but he was sure. So he said. One blue-gum satisfied him, and as for the cowshed he meant to complete it during the century. I don’t introduce him as a tree planter, but as a narrator of most extraordinary yarns. He called them facts – but of the truth of this the reader may judge.
Riding over one warm afternoon, I found him leaning over a water-butt examining the little lively and red worms therein, which would soon hatch out into livelier mosquitoes.
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“Well, so long!”
“That’s it.”
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