large/1336/the_camp_of_the_dog_librivox_64kb_mp3/camp_of_the_dog_5_blackwood_cb_64kb_123
large/1336/the_camp_of_the_dog_librivox_64kb_mp3/camp_of_the_dog_5_blackwood_cb_64kb
English
1336
Far across the island, faintly sounding through the trees and brushwood, came a similar, answering cry. Shrill, yet wonderfully musical, shaking the heart with a singular wild sweetness that defies description, we heard it rise and fall upon the night air. FAR ACROSS THE ISLAND FAINTLY SOUNDING THROUGH THE TREES AND BRUSHWOOD CAME A SIMILAR ANSWERING CRY SHRILL YET WONDERFULLY MUSICAL SHAKING THE HEART WITH A SINGULAR WILD SWEETNESS THAT DEFIED DESCRIPTION WE HEARD IT RISE AND FALL UPON THE NIGHT AIR
estern States of America where the Indians still fight and hunt and struggle—it was the cry of the Redskin! "The Indian blood!" whispered John Silence, when I caught his arm for support; "the ancestral cry." And that poignant, beseeching cry, that broken human voice, mingling with the savage howl of the brute beast, pierced straight to my very heart and touched there something that no music, no voice, passionate or tender, of man, woman or child has ever stirred before or since for one second into life. It echoed away among the fog and the trees and lost itself somewhere out over the hidden sea. And some part of myself—something that was far more than the mere act of intense listening—went out with it, and for several minutes I lost consciousness of my surroundings and felt utterly absorbed in the pain of another stricken fellow-creature. Again the voice of John Silence recalled me to myself. "Hark!" he said aloud. "Hark!" His tone galvanised me afresh. We stood listening side by side. E CRY I HAD SO OFTEN HEARD IN THE WESTERN STATES OF AMERICA WHERE THE INDIANS STILL FIGHT AND HUNT AND STRUGGLE IT WAS THE CRY OF THE REDSKIN THE INDIAN BLOOD WHISPERED JOHN SILENCE WHEN I CAUGHT HIS ARM FOR SUPPORT THE ANCESTRAL CRY AND THAT POIGNANT BESEECHING CRY THAT BROKEN HUMAN VOICE MINGLING WITH THE SAVAGE HOWL OF THE BRUTE BEAST PIERCED STRAIGHT TO MY VERY HEART AND TOUCHED THERE SOMETHING THAT NO MUSIC NO VOICE PASSIONATE OR TENDER OF MAN WOMAN OR CHILD HAS EVER STIRRED BEFORE OR SINCE FOR ONE SECOND INTO LIFE IT ECHOED AWAY AMONG THE FOG AND TREES AND LOST ITSELF SOMEWHERE OUT OVER THE HIDDEN SEA AND SOME PART OF MYSELF SOMETHING THAT WAS FAR MORE THAN THE MERE ACT OF INTENSE LISTENING WENT OUT WITH IT AND FOR SEVERAL MINUTES I LOST CONSCIOUSNESS OF MY SURROUNDINGS AND FELT UTTERLY ABSORBED IN THE PAIN OF ANOTHER STRICKEN FELLOW CREATURE AGAIN THE VOICE OF JOHN SILENCE RECALLED ME TO MYSELF HARK HE SAID ALOUD HARK HIS TONE GALVANIZED ME AFRESH WE STOOD LISTENING SIDE BY SIDE
large/1336/the_camp_of_the_dog_librivox_64kb_mp3/camp_of_the_dog_5_blackwood_cb_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/1336/the_camp_of_the_dog_librivox_64kb_mp3/camp_of_the_dog_5_blackwood_cb_64kb.flac