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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"A Romance of the Black Hawk War"

Between the two branches, after a little search,
we discovered a gravelly beach, on which the horses' hoofs would leave
few permanent marks. Beyond this gravel we plunged into an open wood
through whose intricacies we were compelled to grope blindly, Tim and I
both afoot, and constantly calling to each other, so as not to become
separated. I had lost all sense of direction, when this forest finally
ended, and we again emerged upon open prairie, with a myriad of stars
shining overhead.


CHAPTER XXVI
THE ISLAND IN THE SWAMP
The relief of thus being able to perceive each other and gain some view
of our immediate surroundings, after that struggle through darkness,
cannot be expressed in words. My first thought was for the girl, whose
horse I had been leading, but her eyes were no longer open and staring
vacantly forward; they were now tightly closed, and, to all appearances,
she slept soundly in the saddle. In the first shock of so discovering
her, I touched her flesh to assure myself that she was not dead, but the
blood was flowing warm and life-like through her veins. She breathed so
naturally I felt this slumber must be a symptom of recovery.
We were upon a rather narrow tongue of land, the two diverging forks of
the stream closing us in. So, after a short conversation, we continued
to ride straight forward, keeping rather close to the edge of the woods,
so as to better conceal our passage. Our advance, while not rapid, was
steady, and we must have covered several miles before the east began to
show gray, the ghastly light of the new dawn revealing our tired faces.


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