he thought, the likes of which wenever really knew before dynamite. These profound beginnings of earth were now available to the naked eye after so many eons of silence and invisibility and more silence. If he could lean out and touch the rock heâd be touching time itself, the igneous shadow of God.
You want to get off? called out the conductor.
Oh, cried out Sammy, I want to go through the tunnel up ahead. Can I go through the tunnel?
I suppose you can, said the conductor. After that then, Iâll stop the train.
This will really be something, he told himself, thrilled by the oncoming blackness of the tunnel. Holy smoke, he said.
The mountain the train was about to slip through extended beyond view, its peak somewhere high and inside clouds. The many slopes were all thick with trees. It was a mountain made of other mountains. He wished he saw however briefly the movement of wildlife, but couldnât.
He was an inch off the ground with vertigo. He swooned. The soles of his feet tingled fiercely.
He was being pushed by the powerful force of the locomotive through a door into darkness.
The wind scooped across his face. The lamp atop the engine car shone against the rockwall and along the silvered lips of the track in front of him. He would go around the dark bend. The exit was only suggested by blueless sunlight on the wall around a curve.
He was really in love, finally, and for the rest of his life.
Arms outraised, like a winged man, he cried out for his love, Molly: I love you, I love you, I love you.
And she returned the call with one of her own. You fool, she said. I love you, too.
He lost his balance. With frantic agility he avoided plunging straight forward onto the tracks where the train would have instantly crushed him. Instead he reeled sideways and managed to bounce off the cowcatcher and into the narrow gutter between the train and the wall. The floor was all rock, big and small, sharp and bluntâdynamite debris.
He came to in the arms of his wife, looking up at her wet face. The train was well on its way again. Sammy had lost six hours unconscious; the conductor had lost one and a half to the emergency, and was behind schedule now and furious at himself.
He was completely paralyzed below the neck. Not only paralyzed, heâd lost all feeling. The flesh below his chin was nothing more than a sack his head was tied to. For many hours he lay there under the close supervision of his wife, who, despite her youth, remained calm and optimistic. He tried to make the most out of his last hours on earth. If he couldnât move, if not even a muscle would respond, then at least he would taste what he could, listen with all his strength, and try not to weep. One canât waste oneâs last precious hours blinded by tears. He looked out the window at whatever useless acre of nature the train passed through, and honestly figured he might as well die now. Why wait. What was that that passed by the window? He was still jarred whenever he thought to raise an arm or bend a knee, to get up or change his view, and nothing happened, nothing moved. He thought he was fated to die in Alberta.
Among the cabin and crew and the good Christian travellers aboard the train, everyone prayed anxiously for Sammy to recover. They sat on their stained maple benches, wobbling in unison as the country rolled under them on the tracks hammered in by Chinamen, praying into their hats for the speedy recovery of their dear crippled son,
poor
thing.
FURRY & DAGGETTâS LOGGING CONCERN REQUIRES ABLE MEN; BUCKERS, SWAMPERS, AXEMEN â¼ $1 P/D â¦
Daggett read his own sign, tore it off the maple tree, and chucked it aside. Positions filled. Now that Litz and Pisk were gone, Furry & Daggett remained the only major company of lumberjacks in town. Together they might employ fifty men at a stretch. All year round they employed four of the strongestmen in the area. These folks were probably drinking, and thatâs
You want to get off? called out the conductor.
Oh, cried out Sammy, I want to go through the tunnel up ahead. Can I go through the tunnel?
I suppose you can, said the conductor. After that then, Iâll stop the train.
This will really be something, he told himself, thrilled by the oncoming blackness of the tunnel. Holy smoke, he said.
The mountain the train was about to slip through extended beyond view, its peak somewhere high and inside clouds. The many slopes were all thick with trees. It was a mountain made of other mountains. He wished he saw however briefly the movement of wildlife, but couldnât.
He was an inch off the ground with vertigo. He swooned. The soles of his feet tingled fiercely.
He was being pushed by the powerful force of the locomotive through a door into darkness.
The wind scooped across his face. The lamp atop the engine car shone against the rockwall and along the silvered lips of the track in front of him. He would go around the dark bend. The exit was only suggested by blueless sunlight on the wall around a curve.
He was really in love, finally, and for the rest of his life.
Arms outraised, like a winged man, he cried out for his love, Molly: I love you, I love you, I love you.
And she returned the call with one of her own. You fool, she said. I love you, too.
He lost his balance. With frantic agility he avoided plunging straight forward onto the tracks where the train would have instantly crushed him. Instead he reeled sideways and managed to bounce off the cowcatcher and into the narrow gutter between the train and the wall. The floor was all rock, big and small, sharp and bluntâdynamite debris.
He came to in the arms of his wife, looking up at her wet face. The train was well on its way again. Sammy had lost six hours unconscious; the conductor had lost one and a half to the emergency, and was behind schedule now and furious at himself.
He was completely paralyzed below the neck. Not only paralyzed, heâd lost all feeling. The flesh below his chin was nothing more than a sack his head was tied to. For many hours he lay there under the close supervision of his wife, who, despite her youth, remained calm and optimistic. He tried to make the most out of his last hours on earth. If he couldnât move, if not even a muscle would respond, then at least he would taste what he could, listen with all his strength, and try not to weep. One canât waste oneâs last precious hours blinded by tears. He looked out the window at whatever useless acre of nature the train passed through, and honestly figured he might as well die now. Why wait. What was that that passed by the window? He was still jarred whenever he thought to raise an arm or bend a knee, to get up or change his view, and nothing happened, nothing moved. He thought he was fated to die in Alberta.
Among the cabin and crew and the good Christian travellers aboard the train, everyone prayed anxiously for Sammy to recover. They sat on their stained maple benches, wobbling in unison as the country rolled under them on the tracks hammered in by Chinamen, praying into their hats for the speedy recovery of their dear crippled son,
poor
thing.
FURRY & DAGGETTâS LOGGING CONCERN REQUIRES ABLE MEN; BUCKERS, SWAMPERS, AXEMEN â¼ $1 P/D â¦
Daggett read his own sign, tore it off the maple tree, and chucked it aside. Positions filled. Now that Litz and Pisk were gone, Furry & Daggett remained the only major company of lumberjacks in town. Together they might employ fifty men at a stretch. All year round they employed four of the strongestmen in the area. These folks were probably drinking, and thatâs