The Hunted Woman - Curwood, James Oliver
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It was all new - most of it singularly dramatic and even appalling to the woman who sat with the pearl-gray veil drawn closely about her face. For eighteen hours she had been a keenly attentive, wide-eyed, and partly frightened bit of humanity in this onrush of "the horde." She had heard a voice behind her speak of it as "the horde" - a deep, thick, gruff voice which she knew without looking had filtered its way through a beard. She agreed with the voice. It was the Horde - that horde which has always beaten the trails ahead for civilization and made of its own flesh and blood the foundation…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
It was all new - most of it singularly dramatic and even appalling to the woman who sat with the pearl-gray veil drawn closely about her face. For eighteen hours she had been a keenly attentive, wide-eyed, and partly frightened bit of humanity in this onrush of "the horde." She had heard a voice behind her speak of it as "the horde" - a deep, thick, gruff voice which she knew without looking had filtered its way through a beard. She agreed with the voice. It was the Horde - that horde which has always beaten the trails ahead for civilization and made of its own flesh and blood the foundation of nations. For months it had been pouring steadily into the mountains - always in and never out, a laughing, shouting, singing, blaspheming Horde, every ounce of it toughened sinew and red brawn, except the Straying Angels. One of these sat opposite her, a dark-eyed girl with over-red lips and hollowed cheeks, and she heard the bearded man say something to his companions about "dizzy dolls" and "the little angel in the other seat." This same voice, gruffened in its beard, had told her that ten thousand of the Horde had gone up ahead of them. Then it whispered something that made her hands suddenly tighten and a hot flush sweep through her. She lifted her veil and rose slowly from her seat, as if to rearrange her dress. Casually she looked straight into the faces of the bearded man and his companion in the seat behind.
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Autorenporträt
James Oliver Curwood was an American author of action-adventure books and an environmentalist. He was born on June 12, 1878, and died on August 13, 1927. Publishers Weekly says that in the early and mid-1920s, his books were among the ten best-selling in the United States. Many of them were about experiences that took place in the Hudson Bay area, the Yukon, or Alaska. One movie was made in three different versions from 1919 to 1953, and at least 180 movies have been based on or directly influenced by his books and short stories. He was the best-paid author in the world (per word) at the time of his death. Curwood was born in Owosso, Michigan. He was the fourth child and youngest of five. Curwood went to neighborhood schools and dropped out of high school before graduating. He did well on the test to get into the University of Michigan and was able to start studying writing in the English department. I quit college after two years to become a writer, and I moved to Detroit to do that. He sold his first story while he was at the University of Michigan in 1898. In 1907, the Canadian government hired him to go to the farthest northern parts of the country and write and print accounts of his travels to promote tourism. It was these trips that gave him ideas for his wilderness adventure stories.