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Where Strongest Tide Winds Blew   By: (-1928)

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First Page:

WHERE STRONGEST TIDE WINDS BLEW

by

ROBERT McREYNOLDS

Author of

"Thirty Years on the Frontier," "Rodney Wilkes," "The Luxury of Poverty," "A Modern Jean Valjean," "Facts and Fancies," Etc.

Gowdy Simmons Publishing Co. Colorado Springs, Colo. 1907

Copyright 1907 By Robert McReynolds.

To Honorable John B. Stephen and his estimable wife, from the romantic story of whose lives, the principal incidents of this work are taken.

Colorado City, Colorado 1907

ILLUSTRATIONS

SOUNDING THE DEPTHS 24 WRECK OF THE SPANISH SLOOP SEVILLE. 36 THE EARTH BEGAN TO ROCK AND REEL. 84 THE HOME VOYAGE OF THE AVEN WAS FRAUGHT WITH ALL THE DANGERS OF THE SEA. 148 FLIGHT OF THE TORPEDO BOAT. 166 THE AREGUIPENA. 212

CONTENTS

I UNDER THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES 9 II IN DAYS OF INNOCENCE 24 III THROUGH MISTS OF THE SEA 31 IV GRAVES GAVE UP THEIR DEAD 41 V FAIREST FLOWER OF THE CORDILLERAS 50 VI A HUMILIATING INCIDENT 56 VII IN THE THROES OF REVOLUTION 64 VIII VIVA GENERALISSIMO PIEROLA 72 IX AMID THE DIN OF BATTLE 80 X WE MEET AGAIN, FELICITA 90 XI THE MASQUE BALL AT TIRAVAYA 98 XII COWARDLY ACT OF A VILLAIN 107 XIII MURDEROUS PLAN OF THE INSURGENTS 115 XIV FOR THE SAKE OF HUMANITY 125 XV IN DESPERATE STRUGGLE FOR LIFE 135 XVI THE SCREAMING WINDS OF NIGHT 143 XVII THE BARBARIAN MEETS HIS INGOMAR 151 XVIII ON SUNNY SEAS BOUND NORTH 159 XIX DEATH SHIPS OF THE SEA 167 XX A DAUGHTER OF THE CHEROKEES 176 XXI CARSON'S BLANK PAGES IN LIFE 185 XXII A VOICE FROM CENTURIES PAST 195 XXIII THE TWO OLD BLACK CROWS 205 XXIV THE RECKLESS HAND OF FATE 214 XXV CORDS OF LOVE ARE STRONG 223 XXVI WHEN THE DEATH GLOOM GATHERS 231 XXVII A NIGHT OF TRAGEDIES 240 XXVIII FROM OUT THE SHADOWY PAST 249

WHERE STRONGEST TIDE WINDS BLEW

I.

UNDER THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES.

We built our cabin high on the slopes of the Sangre de Christo range, overlooking the broad, level San Luis Valley, in Colorado. At the rear of the cabin rose a towering cliff or rather a huge slab of rock standing edgewise more than two hundred feet high, apparently the upheaval of some mighty convulsion of nature in ages gone. Near the base of this cliff flowed a clear crystal spring.

Some hundred yards west of the cabin was the mouth of a tunnel into which we had drifted with pick, shovel and giant powder, a distance of 300 feet in five months of hard toil. A trail led from the tunnel to the cabin along the mountain side, which was thickly studded with tall pines. Another trail led down the mountain slopes in a winding way to the valley, almost a mile below. Above, reaching far into the blue dome of the sky, rose the peaks of the snow capped Sangre de Christo, glistening in the morning sunlight, which threw gaunt, fantastic shadows in caƱon and deep ravine... Continue reading book >>




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