The Land Claim — page 93: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE RESCUR. 89 ears that heard it. The rain poured down in torrents, beating upon the undefended form of the terrified girl-guard, and her equally terrified prisoner. Neither could see the other, except as the frequent vivid flashes of lightning revealed their faces, wrinkled and pallid with fear. Still, Alicia sat holding pistol and knife, not knowing what to do nor where to go. The wind continued to increase in violence, wrenching off great branches of’ trees, and whirling them through the air; and Alicia felt; rather than saw, that one had fallen very near. The next flash of lightning showed that Carnes was partly buried under it. A feeling of humanity prompted her to try to remove it, and groping her way by the flashes, Alicia made her way to the prisoner, who, when she came near enough to distinguish his voice, she found moaning with pain. “ Are you hurt?” she cried, aloud; but the words scemed to fly off on the whistling and roaring wind, without making a sound. She repeated her question as loud as she could call. . “My arm is broken,” she heard, in words that seemed to be floating off out of reach. “Cut the cord—do, for God’s sake !” » Fearful even then of being imposed upon, Alicia felt bound to discover whether or not the prisoner’s arm was really broken, and began to exert herself to remove the branch that seemed to lie upon it; but the force of the wind, the numb- ing effects of the rain, and her mental confusion made that impossible. Meanwhile, the man kept moaning in a way to excite both her sympathy and alarm. “Oh, Allen! Allen! will you never come?” she cried, wringing her hands in anguish. A louder peal of thunder answered her, and she saw that a tree near het was struck with lightning, and stripped of bark from top to bottom. She sat close by the prisoner, listening to his groaning and imprecations, mixed with entreaties— tempted to free his hands, yet fearing to do sor After waiting in this state-of mind for a length of time, to her an age of horror, the storm seeming rather to increase than to abate, the poor exhausted girl sunk upon the ground, weeping bitterly. Yet, over the noise of the tempest she thought she caught the sound of voices, and raised her head to listen. Yes, they were close by, but in the wrong direction. comiliclooks. com