Abbie Johnston Grosvenor

Biographical details

Abbie Johnston Grosvenor Strange Stories of the Great River…

Anthony's gray eyes were always hunting for unusual sights.
"What is that?" he whispered to the Sieur de Bienville on the homeward way as some heavy creature like a huge water-rat stirred among the roots of a tree hidden under the bank.
"Paddle nearer, Tony. Faster! It may be a wounded man."
It was a coureur de bois, not hurt in body, but so frightened that his state was pitiful.
"The Natchez murdered my two companions days and days ago," he screamed, in hysterical relief, when he found that he was rescued from his slimy cave by men of his own nation.
Source: Gutenberg

Abbie Johnston Grosvenor Strange Stories of the Great Valley…

The new stream emptied itself into a wide bottom and spread out harmlessly in a tame and shallow lake which looked toward the Wabash.
They edged out of the current into quiet backwater. All was as tame as a mill-pond.
Doby, thoroughly shaken, exhausted, and amazed, cried out: "That was about the luckiest escape any one could have! Big stones and little stones! I never saw such a rocky gully! How did we miss them!"
Francis Vigo crossed himself and looked at the boy in grave reproof. He did not believe in luck.
The voyageurs clapped their hands and laughed aloud.
Source: Gutenberg

Abbie Johnston Grosvenor Strange Stories of the Great Valley…

With this pet to care for and to teach, in addition to his chores for the wagon, Doby could bustle about with some appearance of forgetting their precarious life.
For until the drought should be broken and the sky drop rain to renew the springs and cool the bottoms, each hour became more fraught with danger from the wild.
From the black edges of the moonless nights green eyes glared at the fires of the emigrants. Panthers wailed from the bluff in long shrieks, like frightened children—a sound that chilled the blood of every one in the train.
Source: Gutenberg

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