Achmed Abdullah

Achmed Abdullah

Summary

Portrait of Achmed Abdullah Achmed Abdullah The Man on Horseback — Chapter 45 (1903)

Faint from the distance, the direction of Verdun, boomed a steady, dramatic roar, the big guns slashing into the war game. A splotch of whirling white shell stabbed the opaque black of the heavens. And on he rode, at a short gallop, as, the hills coiling higher, the ground became broken with splintering, treacherous stones. He could not see them. He felt them. Sensed them. He was bred to the free range, the open.
As he drew nearer the supposed lines of the French, the thought came to him that the French outposts might not like his uniform, that they might shoot on sight.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Achmed Abdullah Achmed Abdullah The Man on Horseback — Chapter 45 (1903)

Up a hill, bent over the mare's neck, pulling her up almost bodily, forcing her to climb like a cat! Taking a fallen tree at a long, lean jump! Swerving to escape the shock of a battery that came suddenly looking out of the dark! Slipping down the gravel bank of a broad stream, spurring the animal to breast the swirling water, till his hands were raw with the pulling of the reins, his knees numbed with the gripping of the saddle.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Achmed Abdullah Achmed Abdullah The Man on Horseback — Chapter 45 (1903)

A saddle! A silly, light, postage stamp saddle!
And he dismounted, he loosened the girth, he chucked the saddle into a clump of bushes.
He patted the horse's glistening, sweat-studded neck.
"Now we'll do some real riding!" he said, and he vaulted up, his legs dangling like an Indian's, his flesh thrilling to the touch of the horse's flesh.
Source: Wikisource

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