Showing: 21-26 results of 26

by: Zane Grey
I. RED LAKE Shefford halted his tired horse and gazed with slowly realizing eyes. A league-long slope of sage rolled and billowed down to Red Lake, a dry red basin, denuded and glistening, a hollow in the desert, a lonely and desolate door to the vast, wild, and broken upland beyond. All day Shefford had plodded onward with the clear horizon-line a thing unattainable; and for days before that he had... more...

by: Zane Grey
CHAPTER I So it was in him, then—an inherited fighting instinct, a driving intensity to kill. He was the last of the Duanes, that old fighting stock of Texas. But not the memory of his dead father, nor the pleading of his soft-voiced mother, nor the warning of this uncle who stood before him now, had brought to Buck Duane so much realization of the dark passionate strain in his blood. It... more...

by: Zane Grey
CHAPTER I A September sun, losing some of its heat if not its brilliance, was dropping low in the west over the black Colorado range. Purple haze began to thicken in the timbered notches. Gray foothills, round and billowy, rolled down from the higher country. They were smooth, sweeping, with long velvety slopes and isolated patches of aspens that blazed in autumn gold. Splotches of red vine colored the... more...

by: Zane Grey
1 In the early sixties a trail led from the broad Missouri, swirling yellow and turgid between its green-groved borders, for miles and miles out upon the grassy Nebraska plains, turning westward over the undulating prairie, with its swales and billows and long, winding lines of cottonwoods, to a slow, vast heave of rising ground—Wyoming—where the herds of buffalo grazed and the wolf was lord and... more...

by: Zane Grey
I. CHOOSING A PROFESSION I loved outdoor life and hunting. Some way a grizzly bear would come in when I tried to explain forestry to my brother. "Hunting grizzlies!" he cried. "Why, Ken, father says you've been reading dime novels." "Just wait, Hal, till he comes out here. I'll show him that forestry isn't just bear-hunting." My brother Hal and I were camping a... more...

by: Zane Grey
There was Delaney's red-haired trio—Red Gilbat, left fielder; Reddy Clammer, right fielder, and Reddie Ray, center fielder, composing the most remarkable outfield ever developed in minor league baseball. It was Delaney's pride, as it was also his trouble. Red Gilbat was nutty—and his batting average was .371. Any student of baseball could weigh these two facts against each other and... more...