George Manville Fenn

George Manville Fenn

Summary

Portrait of George Manville Fenn George Manville Fenn Real Gold: A Story of Adventure

The guide shrank at Cyril’s touch, and looked at his fellows for support, but no one stirred, and uttering a low sigh, the man allowed himself to be marched away to where the colonel stood, the Indians giving way on either side, and then closing up again in silence, and without the slightest show of menace.
For to them it was as if a superior being had calmly passed among them and fetched one, each man feeling relieved that he was not the one selected, and that, had he been, he would have felt compelled to go.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of George Manville Fenn George Manville Fenn Real Gold: A Story of Adventure

People at home do not know there are such wildly-grand places in the world—eh, Cyril?”
“No, sir,” replied the latter eagerly, for a pleasant word or two from the colonel was like a gleam of sunshine in his breast; “but it was dangerous. I should not have liked to get off my mule on that shelf.”
“Not on the precipice side, certainly,” said the colonel.
“Why, there wasn’t any room on the other,” cried Perry; “and if one had turned giddy, one would have gone down, down—ugh!”
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of George Manville Fenn George Manville Fenn Real Gold: A Story of Adventure

He did not speak, but pointed, and first John Manning, then Perry, and lastly Cyril peered cautiously over the stone, the latter being only in time to see that they were quite right in their surmises, for there below was a party of about thirty well-armed Indians, slowly making their way down the last of the many zigzags of the path toward where the mist rose like a dark veil, the wind which blew down the gorge keeping it, as it rose from the great gulf, from spreading in their direction, but beating it back into a dense cloud, to float slowly out into the valley beyond.
Source: Gutenberg

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