Golden Face: A Tale of the Wild West
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Mitford Bertram. Golden Face: A Tale of the Wild West
Preface
Chapter One. The Winter Cabin
Chapter Two. A Nocturnal Visitor
Chapter Three. A Tragedy of the Wild West
Chapter Four. The “Squarson” of Lant-Hanger
Chapter Five. The Santorexes of Elmcote
Chapter Six. The Indian Village
Chapter Seven. The Council
Chapter Eight. The Scalp-Dance
Chapter Nine. Some Old Correspondence
Chapter Ten. Poor Geoffry
Chapter Eleven “Hands Up!”
Chapter Twelve “To Quit.”
Chapter Thirteen. Henniker City
Chapter Fourteen. In a Tight Place
Chapter Fifteen. Judge Lynch takes a Back Seat
Chapter Sixteen. A Conjugal Debate and its Sequel
Chapter Seventeen. War Wolf is “Wanted.”
Chapter Eighteen “Through a Glass Darkly.”
Chapter Nineteen. Winthrop’s Outfit
Chapter Twenty. The War-Path
Chapter Twenty One. Truce
Chapter Twenty Two. A Peril of the Plains
Chapter Twenty Three. The “Tenderfoot.”
Chapter Twenty Four. A Bomb for the Rev. Dudley
Chapter Twenty Five. Poor Geoffry Again
Chapter Twenty Six “At his Time of Life.”
Chapter Twenty Seven. In the “Dug-Out.”
Chapter Twenty Eight. A Terrible Drama
Chapter Twenty Nine. Thermopylae
Chapter Thirty “I would rather have died with him.”
Chapter Thirty One. A Race for – Death
Chapter Thirty Two. The Village of the Hostiles
Chapter Thirty Three. Sitting Bull
Chapter Thirty Four. The Two Victims
Chapter Thirty Five. The Sun Queen
Chapter Thirty Six. A Tardy Reparation
Chapter Thirty Seven. Between the Living and the Dead
Chapter Thirty Eight. Another Bomb for the Rev. Dudley
Chapter Thirty Nine. In the Twilight Oakwood
Chapter Forty. Conclusion
Отрывок из книги
“Snakes! if that ain’t the war-whoop, why then old Smokestack Bill never had to keep a bright lookout after his hair.”
Both inmates of the log cabin exchanged a meaning glance. Other movement made they none, save that each man extended an arm and reached down his Winchester rifle, which lay all ready to his hand on the heap of skins against which they were leaning. Within, the firelight glowed luridly on the burnished barrels of the weapons, hardly penetrating the gloomy corners of the hut. Without, the wild shrieking of the wind and the swish and sough of pine branches furiously tossing to the eddying gusts.
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The scout nodded assent; puffing away vigorously at his pipe as he stared into the glowing embers.
“For instance,” went on the other, “when that chap ‘grazed’ me in the street at Denver while I wasn’t looking, and would have put his next ball clean through me if you hadn’t dropped him in his tracks so neatly – that was a nice example for a white man and a Christian to set, say, to our friends Mountain Cat, or Three Bears, or Hole-in-a-Tree, down yonder, wasn’t it? But to come to the point – which is this: Supposing some fellow had rushed us while we were prospecting that place down on the Big Cheyenne in the summer and invited us to clear, I guess we should briskly have let him see a brace of muzzles. Eh?”
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