Description
Excerpt from The Adventures of Gerard, the Lion Killer: Comprising a History of His Ten Years'' Campaign Among the Wild Animals of Northern Africa
The usual number of habitués and loungers were sitting within, talking and laughing together, and a man was standing opposite the target, with ri?e in hand ready to take his shot. As I joined the group standing near him, he brought his ri?e to his shoulder, and hardly had the barrel attained its level, before the piece was dis charged, and the marker down at the other end of the gallery, called out mouche (the centre), at the same time marking the bullet hole with a white wand.
There was something so quick and decided in the motions of the man, and as I fancied something of the air of the Mississippi scout in his posture, that I crossed over to the other side of the gallery to see his countenance. A heavy black beard and moustache trimmed to a point, concealed the lower part of a bronzed visage. The turban of the Spahi uniform shaded his forehead, his face was thin, and almost the only uncovered feature of his countenance by which the spec tator might judge the character of the man was the eye. This was dark and remarkably piercing, seeming to concentrate heat and light like a lens, and yet was not quick withal, but on the contrary, calm and slow in its movements.
Before my observations were finished, the attendant handed to the marksman another ri?e. Dropping his right foot a step behind, he raised the gun quickly as before, a scarcely discernible instant Of pause, and the report rang on the car, while from the other end of the gallery came back the marker''s call mariée. Another shot and another, and always the same result, until a dozen shots had been fired, and a dozen bullets had been married, ''or piled, as the more literal Saxon would render it, in the centre Of the target. The marksman then bowed politely to the group of gentlemen standing by, and passed out of the gallery. The buzz Of conversation that had been hushed, was renewed, and turning to one of the attendants, I asked.
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This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
The usual number of habitués and loungers were sitting within, talking and laughing together, and a man was standing opposite the target, with ri?e in hand ready to take his shot. As I joined the group standing near him, he brought his ri?e to his shoulder, and hardly had the barrel attained its level, before the piece was dis charged, and the marker down at the other end of the gallery, called out mouche (the centre), at the same time marking the bullet hole with a white wand.
There was something so quick and decided in the motions of the man, and as I fancied something of the air of the Mississippi scout in his posture, that I crossed over to the other side of the gallery to see his countenance. A heavy black beard and moustache trimmed to a point, concealed the lower part of a bronzed visage. The turban of the Spahi uniform shaded his forehead, his face was thin, and almost the only uncovered feature of his countenance by which the spec tator might judge the character of the man was the eye. This was dark and remarkably piercing, seeming to concentrate heat and light like a lens, and yet was not quick withal, but on the contrary, calm and slow in its movements.
Before my observations were finished, the attendant handed to the marksman another ri?e. Dropping his right foot a step behind, he raised the gun quickly as before, a scarcely discernible instant Of pause, and the report rang on the car, while from the other end of the gallery came back the marker''s call mariée. Another shot and another, and always the same result, until a dozen shots had been fired, and a dozen bullets had been married, ''or piled, as the more literal Saxon would render it, in the centre Of the target. The marksman then bowed politely to the group of gentlemen standing by, and passed out of the gallery. The buzz Of conversation that had been hushed, was renewed, and turning to one of the attendants, I asked.
About the Publisher
Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com
This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
Details
Publisher - Forgotten Books
Author(s) - Jules Gerard
Hardback
Published Date -
ISBN - 9780331785029
Dimensions - 22.9 x 15.2 x 2.7 cm
Page Count - 446
Paperback
Published Date -
ISBN - 9781333680527
Dimensions -
Page Count -
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