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Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 1811-1896

"Sunny Memories of Foreign Lands, Volume 2"

Slowly,
reluctantly, as if conscious of the awful race it was about to take,
the huge mass trembled, slid, poised, and, with a crunch and a groan,
went over. At the first plunge it acquired a heavy revolving motion,
and was soon whirling and dashing down, bounding into the air with
prodigious leaps, and cutting a white and flashing path into the icy
way. Then first I began to realize the awful height at which we stood
above the plain. Tracts, which looked as though we could almost step
across them, were reached by this terrible stone, moving with
frightful velocity; and bound after bound, plunge after plunge it
made, and we held our breath to see each tract lengthen out, as if
seconds grew into minutes, inches into rods; and still the mass moved
on, and the microscopic way lengthened out, till at last a curve hid
its further progress from our view.
What other cliffs we might have toppled over the muse refuses to tell;
for our faithful guide returned to say that it was not quite safe;
that there were always shepherds and flocks in the valley, and that
they might be injured. So we remounted, and soon overtook H.


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