George Manville Fenn

George Manville Fenn

Summary

Portrait of George Manville Fenn George Manville Fenn The Peril Finders

There were moments in that wild race when Chris’s excitement grew into fierce exultation, when the stones were flying, the pony’s hot breath floating back to his cheeks, and the yelling of the savages began to grow faint; and then again moments when the mustang’s efforts seemed to flag and the yells of the Indians increasing in loudness came nearer and nearer, till the boy had hard work to keep from wrenching himself round in the saddle to try and pierce the black darkness to gaze defiantly at the fierce starting eyeballs and gleaming teeth of those who were hunting him for his blood.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of George Manville Fenn George Manville Fenn The Peril Finders

It was not sleep, but a stupor in which they kept on their horses instinctively, from no voluntary effort of their own. The state of exhaustion and weakness into which they had been lapsing during the perilous journey must have had much to do with their feelings, and robbed them of the power to feel more than a dull, numbing pain which came and went as their steeds ambled or walked unchecked or guided by rein, for even the lariat had glided from Chris’s fingers and trailed along behind the mule upon the sand.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of George Manville Fenn George Manville Fenn The Peril Finders

There was a quick movement amongst the party, every head being lowered—every one stooping a little to peer over the level top of the grass, to see as it were a panorama of black figures moving along a golden band, a party of some thirty or forty mounted Indians walking their ponies in single file, as if going in the same direction as the explorers, and not a quarter of a mile away.
“Haven’t they seen us, Griggs?” whispered the doctor.
“Don’t know yet, sir,” said the American, “but if they haven’t they must be half blind.
Source: Gutenberg

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