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The entrance of a deep ravine opened . Its lower sides palpitated with the
ceaseless tossing of dwarf trees and bushes ; and , motionless above the somber
tumult of the slopes , the monumental stretch of bare rock rose on high , level at
the top ...
The bright day robbed the ravine of half its horrors . The path was rather broad , if
there was a frightful sheer drop of ninety feet at least . Two men could have
walked abreast on that ledge , and with a hand - rail one would have thought
I did not know the way , but by descending the ravine again to the sea , and
walking along the bank of the little river , I was sure to reach it . The objection to
this was that we should miss Castro . Hang Castro ! there was something
the other side of the ravine , the lower part of a man from his waist to his feet . By
crouching down at once , I brought his head into view . This was not Castro . He
wore a black sombrero , and on his shoulder carried a gun . He turned his back ...
From where he sat he beheld the empty , open sea over the dunes , but the edge
of the upland , cleft by many ravines ... he began putting on his shoes , though the
hope of making a sudden dash for his life down the ravine abandoned him .
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LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - ToddSherman - LibraryThing
“And on this ghostly sigh, on this breath, with the feeble click of beads in the nun’s hands, a silence fell upon the room, vast as the stillness of a world of unknown faiths, loves, beliefs, of ... Read full review