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Marryat, Frederick, 1792-1848

"Monsieur Violet"


At that moment, the sonorous voice of Gabriel was heard, firm and
imperative. He had long been accustomed to danger, and now he faced it
with his indomitable energy, as if such scenes were his proper
element:--"Down from your horses," cried he; "let two of you keep them
steady. Strip off your shirts, linen, anything that will catch fire;
quick, not a minute is to be lost." Saying this, he ignited some tinder
with the pan of his pistol, and was soon busy in making a fire with all
the clothes we now threw to him. Then we tore up withered grass and
Buffalo-dung, and dashed them on the heap.
Before three minutes had passed, our fire burned fiercely. On came the
terrified mass of animals, and perceiving the flame of our fire before
them, they roared with rage and terror, yet they turned not, as we had
hoped. On they came, and already we could distinguish their horns, their
feet, and the white foam; our fuel was burning out, the flames were
lowering; the parson gave a scream, and fainted. On came the maddened
myriads, nearer and nearer; I could see their wild eyes glaring; they
wheeled not, opened not a passage, but came on like messengers of
death--nearer--nearer--nearer still. My brain reeled, my eyes grew dim;
it was horrible, most horrible! I dashed down with my face covered, to
meet my fate.


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