Explore "Red O'Shaughnessy" by J.H.M. Abbott on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
IT came with a tragic and startling suddenness--so sudden and so tragic as at first to be utterly unrealisable to any of the party from Newcastle and the Green Hills.
An hour before dawn, Red O'Shaughnessy got up from his blanket, on the other side of the fire from where his master was lying in his, fast asleep. The flame had died away, and only a few glowing embers in the heap of white ash showed where it had blazed when they lay down to rest. Gathering a few sticks together, the Irishman re-kindled it, and was about to go down into the creek for a pot of water when the thing happened.