The Red River Half-Breed: A Tale of the Wild North-West
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Gustave Aimard. The Red River Half-Breed: A Tale of the Wild North-West
CHAPTER I. THE CREST OF THE CONTINENT
CHAPTER II. THE FALSE PILOT
CHAPTER III. THE MOUNTAINEERS' SNUG CABIN
CHAPTER IV. THE MAN WHO RAN RIGHT INTO TROUBLE
CHAPTER V. THE LONE MAN'S STORY
CHAPTER VI. IN HOSTILE HANDS
CHAPTER VII. CHEROKEE BILL RECRUITING
CHAPTER VIII. THE GOLD GRABBERS
CHAPTER IX. THE RED RIVER HALF-BREEDS
CHAPTER X. THE STORM KING
CHAPTER XI. THE IRRESISTIBLE BAIT
CHAPTER XII. UNDER THE MASK
CHAPTER XIII. THE BEAUTIFUL PRISONER'S FRIEND
CHAPTER XIV. THE COMPACT
CHAPTER XV. AN INGENIOUS INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER XVI. THE THORN OF ROSES
CHAPTER XVII. HOW "FRENCH PAUL" GOT HURT
CHAPTER XVIII. ROSARIO BEGINS TO HOPE
CHAPTER XIX. THE NEST OF TRAITORS
CHAPTER XX. THE UNDERMINER
CHAPTER XXI. THE BEST WAY TO LEARN IS TO LOOK AND LISTEN
CHAPTER XXII. THE LATE VISITOR TO THE LADIES
CHAPTER XXIII. A FOREST LETTER
CHAPTER XXIV. THE YAGER'S "TREATY TALK" WITH OUR HERO
CHAPTER XXV. WE HEAR FROM CHEROKEE BILL
CHAPTER XXVI. THE ALL-POWERFUL EMBLEM
CHAPTER XXVII. THE MOUNTAIN MAN IS REINFORCED
CHAPTER XXVIII. DRAWING TO A HEAD
CHAPTER XXIX. ON THE EVE OF THE ATTACK
CHAPTER XXX. THE HALF-BREED DIES GAME
CHAPTER XXXI. THE WOMEN'S CAMP
Отрывок из книги
To the north of the trappers, approaching, but out of their reach of vision, a singular train was skimming over the snows. From a distance one might have supposed it a flight of birds, for no four-footed creatures could have travelled at that surprising pace.
In the foremost snow ship an Indian was pilot and helmsman too. Upon him depended the lives of all in those two vehicles. Those following might swerve off from any danger they met by whipping the dogs to turn quickly.
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She was fascinated by the spectacle presented at the junction of protruding pines where the deceptive Indian guide reposed upon the platform. The moon inundated it with tremulous beams.
Suddenly she was sure that the body was animated. So do the vampires spring to life when the moon bathes them in radiance. Certainly the figure sat up cautiously; the pale face was even visible; with a steady hand some of the trophies which adorned the monument were unhanged from the branches – the knife of Sandy Ferguson, the English rifle and cartridge container of her father, diverse appurtenances which had been left to equip the departing spirit for the happy hunting ground "over the range" yonder.
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