The Huge Hunter by Edward S. Ellis
The Huge Hunter by Edward S. Ellis
'HOWLY vargin! what is that?' exclaimed Mickey McSquizzle, with something like horrified amazement.
'By the Jumping Jehosiphat, naow if that don't, beat all natur'!'
'It's the divil, broke loose, wid full steam on!'
There was good cause for these exclamations upon the part of the Yankee and Irishman, as they stood on the margin of Wolf Ravine, and gazed off over the prairie. Several miles to the north, something like a gigantic man could be seen approaching, apparently at a rapid gait for a few seconds, when it slackened its speed, until it scarcely moved.
Occasionally it changed its course, so that it went nearly at right angles. At such times, its colossal proportions were brought out in full relief, looking like some Titan as it took its giant strides over the prairie.
The distance was too great to scrutinize the phenomenon closely; but they could see that a black volume of smoke issued either from its mouth or the top of its head, while it was drawing behind it a sort of carriage, in which a single man was seated, who appeared to control the movements of the extraordinary being in front of him.
No wonder that something like superstitious have filled the breasts of the two men who had ceased hunting for gold, for a few minutes, to view the singular apparition; for such a thing had scarcely been dreamed of at that day, by the most imaginative philosophers; much less had it ever entered the head of these two men on the western prairies.
'Begorrah, but it's the ould divil, hitched to his throttin 'waging, wid his ould wife howlding the reins!' exclaimed Mickey, who had scarcely removed his eyes from the singular object.
'That there critter in the wagon is a man,' said Hopkins, looking as intently in the same direction. 'It seems to me,' he added, a moment later, 'that there's somebody else a-sit-ting alongside of him, either a dog or a boy. Wal, naow, ain't that queer?'
'Begorrah! begorrah! do ye hear that? What shall we do?'
At that instant, a shriek like that of some agonized giant came home to them across the plains, and both looked around, as if about to flee in terror; but the curiosity of the Yankee restrained him. His practical eye saw that whatever it might be, it was a human contrivance, and there could be nothing supernatural about it.
'Look!'
Just after giving its ear-splitting screech, it turned straight toward the two men, and with the black smoke rapidly puffing from the top of its head, came tearing along at a tremendous rate.
Mickey manifested some nervousness, but he was restrained by the coolness of Ethan, who kept his position with his eye fixed keenly upon it.
Coming at such a railroad speed, it was not long in passing the intervening space. It was yet several hundred yards distant, when Ethan Hopkins gave Mickey a ringing slap upon the shoulder.
'Jerusalem! who do ye s'pose naow, that man is sitting in the carriage and holding the reins?'
'Worrah, worrah! why do you ax me, whin I'm so frightened entirely that I don't know who I am myself?'
'Its Baldy.'
'Git out!' replied the Irishman, but added the next moment, 'am I shlaping or dhraming? It's Baldy or his ghost.'
It certainly was no ghost, judging from the manner in which it acted; for he sat with his hat cocked on one side, a pipe in his mouth, and the two reins in his hands, just as the skillful driver controls the mettlesome horses and keeps them well in hand.
He was seated upon a large pile of wood, while near nestled a little hump-backed, bright-eyed boy, whose eyes sparkled with delight at the performance of the strange machine.
The speed of the steam man gradually slackened, until it came opposite the men, when it came to a dead halt, and the grinning 'Baldy,' as he was called, (from his having lost his scalp several years before, by the Indians), tipped his hat and said:
'Glad to see you hain't gone under yit. How'd you git along while I was gone?'
But the men were hardly able to answer any questions yet, until they had learned something more about the strange creation before them. Mickey shied away, as the timid steed does at first sight of the locomotive, observing which, the boy (at a suggestion from Baldy), gave a string in his hand a twitch, whereupon the nose of the wonderful thing threw out a jet of steam with the sharp screech of the locomotive whistle. Mickey sprung a half dozen feet backward, and would have run off at full speed down the ravine, had not Ethan Hopkins caught his arm.
'What's the matter, Mickey, naow! Hain't you ever heard anything like a locomotive whistle?'
'Worrah, worrah, now, but is that the way the crather blows its nose? It must have a beautiful voice when it shnores at night.'
Perhaps at this point a description of the singular mechanism should be given. It was about ten feet in hight, measuring to the top of the 'stove-pipe hat,' which was fashioned after the common order of felt coverings, with a broad brim, all painted a shiny black. The face was made of iron, painted a black color, with a pair of fearful eves, and a tremendous grinning mouth. A whistle-like contrivance was trade to answer for the nose. The steam chest proper and boiler, were where the chest in a human being is generally supposed to be, extending also into a large knapsack arrangement over the shoulders and back. A pair of arms, like projections, held the shafts, and the broad flat feet were covered with sharp spikes, as though he were the monarch of base-ball players. The legs were quite long, and the step was natural, except when running, at which time, the bolt uprightness in the figure showed different from a human being.
In the knapsack were the valves, by which the steam or water was examined. In front was a painted imitation of a vest, in which a door opened to receive the fuel, which, together with the water, was carried in the wagon, a pipe running along the shaft and connecting with the boiler.
The lines which the driver held controlled the course of the steam man; thus, by pulling the strap on the right, a deflection was caused which turned it in that direction, and the same acted on the other side. A small rod, which ran along the right shaft, let out or shut off the steam, as was desired, while a cord, running along the left, controlled the whistle at the nose.
The legs of this extraordinary mechanism were fully a yard apart, so as to avoid the danger of its upsetting, and at the same time, there was given more room for the play of the delicate machinery within. Long, sharp, spike-like projections adorned those toes of the immense feet, so that there was little danger of its slipping, while the length of the legs showed that, under favorable circumstances, the steam man must be capable of very great speed.
After Ethan Hopkins had some what familiarized himself with the external appearance of this piece of mechanism, he ventured upon a more critical examination.
The door being opened in front, showed a mass of glowing coals lying in the capacious abdomen of the giant; the hissing valves in the knapsack made themselves apparent, and the top of the hat or smoke-stack had a sieve-like arrangement, such as is frequently seen on the locomotive.
There were other little conveniences in the way of creating a draft, and of shutting it off when too great, which could scarcely be understood without a scrutiny of the figure itself.
The steam man was a frightful looking object, being painted of a glossy black, with a pair of white stripes down its legs, and with a face which was intended to be of a flesh color, but, which was really a fearful red.
To give the machinery an abundance of room, the steam man was exceedingly corpulent, swelling out to aldermanic proportions, which, after all, was little out of harmony with its immense hight.
The wagon dragged behind was an ordinary four-wheeled vehicle, with springs, and very strong wheels, a framework being arranged, so that when necessary it could be securely covered. To guard against the danger of upsetting it was very broad, with low wheels, which it may be safely said were made to 'hum' when the gentleman got fairly under way.
Such is a brief and Imperfect description of this wonderful steam man, as it appeared on its first visit to the Western prairies.
The Launch Boys' Cruise in the Deerfoot by Edward S. Ellis
Two years of marriage left Brinley questioning everything, her supposed happiness revealed as nothing but sham. Abandoning her past for Colin, she discovered only betrayal and a counterfeit wedding. Accepting his heart would stay frozen, she called her estranged father, agreeing to the match he proposed. Laughter followed her, with whispers of Colin's power to toss her aside. Yet, she reinvented herself-legendary racer, casino mastermind, and acclaimed designer. When Colin tried to reclaim her, another man pulled Brinley close. "She's already carrying my child. You can't move on?"
Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.
At their wedding night, Kayla caught her brand-new husband cheating. Reeling and half-drunk, she staggered into the wrong suite and collapsed into a stranger's arms. Sunrise brought a pounding head-and the discovery she was pregnant. The father? A supremely powerful tycoon who happened to be her husband's ruthless uncle. Panicked, she tried to run, but he barred the door with a faint, dangerous smile. When the cheating ex begged, Kayla lifted her chin and declared, "Want a second chance at us? Ask your uncle." The tycoon pulled her close. "She's my wife now." The ex gasped, "What!?"
A year into the marriage, Thea rushed home with radiant happiness-she was pregnant. Jerred barely glanced up. "She's back." The woman he'd never let go had returned, and he forgot he was a husband, spending every night at her hospital bed. Thea forced a smile. "Let's divorce." He snapped, "You're jealous of someone who's dying?" Because the woman was terminal, he excused every jab and made Thea endure. When love went cold, she left the papers and stormed off. He locked down the city and caught her at the airport, eyes red, dropping to his knees. "Honey, where are you going with our child?"
She came to survive. He was born to rule. Fate made them mates. And that's where the nightmare began. Evangeline has spent her whole life on the edge, unwanted, unclaimed, and surviving in the shadows of Crescent Moon Pack. A omega by blood and an outcast by choice, she's learned to keep her head down and her scars hidden. But when her dying uncle asks her to enroll at Blackclaw Academy, a school built on bloodlines, brutality, and unforgiving rules..... she agrees. For him, not for herself. She expected whispers. Glares. Even cruelty. What she didn't expect was Ronan Nightbane. The future Alpha. Cold. Untouchable. Worshipped. Feared. And the one the Moon Goddess bound her soul to. Being his mate should've meant protection. Belonging. Destiny. But Ronan wants none of it. He rejects her in front of the entire academy. Mocks her. Marks her as nothing more than a mistake. A threat. A girl born of nothing, who means even less. But Evangeline? She doesn't break. Not for him. Not for anyone. Because the power buried inside her was never meant to be found. The truth behind her blood could burn the entire pack system to the ground. And Ronan, no matter how hard he fights it.... can't stay away. Their bond is poisonous. Addictive. Dangerous. And when war creeps closer and secrets claw their way into the light, he'll have to make a brutal choice: Reject her... or ruin them both.
The night Claire Richards caught her husband cheating, she planned her revenge. She transferred billions in hidden assets, gathered undeniable proof of his affair, and destroyed the mistress's reputation. When Claire handed Lucas Bennett the divorce papers, he tore them to pieces. "Divorce? Not a chance!" Lucas snapped. But Claire only smiled. "The waiting period is over, Mr. Bennett. You're out." Sharp, stunning, and done playing nice, Claire steps into a world dominated by two powerful men: her furious ex-husband and the cold, mysterious CEO feared by all. But this time, she's calling the shots. Watch as a clear-headed woman takes control, turns heartbreak into strength, and brings the man who once cast her aside to his knees.
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