Missing Persons, Lost Words, a Watch, and Wolves

The Following are excerpts are from The Forest And The Fort and exhibit Hervey Allen's wonderful writing style. These particular passages are poignant, exhilarating, and some, very poetic. Many thanks to the Allen Family for their permission to copy these!

The Land of Missing Persons

"As for those in America who wandered beyond the utmost borders of the wilderness, neither their lives nor the resting places of their bones were too often noticed or conveniently marked. Oblivion dogged their steps and ate the last one. The silent trees of the forest finally closed over their heads. They vanished, drowned in a green nowhere, leaving a crumbling cabin, a few stones arranged in the dancing basin of a spring, a cellar hole on a hillside, with an apple tree or a rosebush in ashes to scatter petals in springtime, as though they remembered something lovely, tragic, and secret that no one else knew."

Lost Words

"Then his mother reached down to comfort him, as though out of the clouds. He could hear the reassuring tones of her voice. The vague, soft comfort of her presence always remained palpable, warm, and physical, even in his dreams, but he could never remember, never hear just what it was she said to him as she reached down. If he could only recall her words, get her to say them again, he knew he would be at peace once more."

The End Of The Siege

"The Captain put on his best uniform and an order. He fingered for a moment in the box where he kept his few medals, some family relics, and trinkets. "Young man," said he, "there has been a great English victory. Your hair will grow longer. You are in the service of a fortunate man. Here is something to remember the greatest moment of his life." He stalked out dramatically, with a peculiar French fling to his shoulders, leaving a small, silver watch in the hand of the astonished Albine. The captain had set it exactly by the other timepiece, probably to mark "the greatest moment of this life." It was 4:55 on the morning of August 9, 1763."

Wolves

"Outside, Salathiel stretched, pausing at the top of the steps for a moment to fill his lungs with the sparkling, bitter cold air. A draught of new life raced through his veins. There was moonlight on the snow."

"The chorus of the wolves on the ridge to the westward suddenly attained a frantic crescendo, and ceased. "They have him!", he thought. He could see them leaping in and worrying the kill, the flash of white fangs in the starlight. God, it was good to be alive on a night like this! He wished he were out there now, moving silently along the ridge, looking down over the black treetops into the silent valleys, gliding with his rifle from tree to tree."

Brine&Ig

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