Explore "The Pearl of the Andes" by Gustave Aimard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
We will return to Curumilla. The night was gloomy -- the darkness profound. Urging their horses on with voice and gesture, the fugitives made the best of their way towards a forest which, if they could but reach, they would be safe.
A leaden silence brooded over the desert. They galloped on without uttering a word -- without looking behind them. All at once the neighing of a horse fell upon their ears like the gloomy alarm call of a clarion.