Books with title THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN: A novel

The stag of Texas, reclining in midnight lair, is startled from his slumbers by the hoofstroke of a horse. He does not forsake his covert, nor yet rise to his feet. His domain is shared by the wild steeds of the savannah, given to nocturnal straying. He only uprears his head; and, with antlers o’ertopping the tall grass, listens for a repetition of the sound. Again is the hoofstroke heard, but with altered intonation. There is a ring of metal—the clinking of steel against stone. The sound, significant to the ear of the stag, causes a quick change in his air and attitude. Springing clear of his couch, and bounding a score of yards across the prairie, he pauses to look back upon the disturber of his dreams. In the clear moonlight of a southern sky, he recognises the most ruthless of his enemies—man. One is approaching upon horseback. Yielding to instinctive dread, he is about to resume his flight: when something in the appearance of the horseman—some unnatural seeming—holds him transfixed to the spot. With haunches in quivering contact with the sward, and frontlet faced to the rear, he continues to gaze—his large brown eyes straining upon the intruder in a mingled expression of fear and bewilderment. What has challenged the stag to such protracted scrutiny? The horse is perfect in all its parts—a splendid steed, saddled, bridled, and otherwise completely caparisoned. In it there appears nothing amiss—nothing to produce either wonder or alarm. But the man—the rider? Ah! About him there is something to cause both—something weird—something wanting! By heavens! it is the head! Even the unreasoning animal can perceive this; and, after gazing a moment with wildered eyes—wondering what abnormal monster thus mocks its cervine intelligence—terror-stricken it continues its retreat; nor again pauses, till it has plunged through the waters of the Leona, and placed the current of the stream between itself and the ghastly intruder. Heedless of the affrighted deer—either of its presence, or precipitate flight—the Headless Horseman rides on. He, too, is going in the direction of the river. Unlike the stag, he does not seem pressed for time; but advances in a slow, tranquil pace: so silent as to seem ceremonious.

Excerptthis inquiry, in a tone that told of a vacillating spirit."Do, uncle Woodley! What else but keep straight on? The river must be on the other side? If we don't hit the crossing, to a half mile or so, we can go up, or down the bank--as the case may require.""But, Cassius: if we should lose our way?""We can't. There's but a patch of this, I suppose? If we do go a little astray, we must come out somewhere--on one side, or the other.""Well, nephew, you know best: I shall be guided by you.""No fear, uncle. I've made my way out of a worse fix than this. Drive on, niggers! Keep straight after me."The ex-officer of volunteers, casting a conceited glance towards the travelling carriage--through the curtains of which appears a fair face, slightly shadowed with anxiety--gives the spur to his horse; and with confident air trots onward.A chorus of whipcracks is succeeded by the trampling of fours

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Thanks to his Aunt Pearl, twelve-year-old Sammy is stuck in the Catskill Mountains for the summer with his awful cousin Joshua. While he doesn't relish the idea of getting to know his new stepmom, at least he'd have his gang to hang out with in New York if he got to stay there instead. But when Sammy realizes he was brought on to be hired help at the hotel, he makes the most of it and enjoys bunking with his teenage co-worker, Adam. Trouble seems to follow Sammy as he becomes entangled in a series of mysterious occurrences, including a terrifying headless horseman who seems to be haunting the reclusive "Hermit" at the top of the neighbouring hill. Sammy and his new friends form a team called "The Ichabods" to crack the mystery. Set in the early 1920s, after WWI.

With bright, dynamic imagery and gripping text, this book asks the intriguing question, What if there was more to the ghostly fable than meets the eye? What if Washington Irving's legend of Sleepy Hollow was based on fact? And what if the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow was not unique, but merely one of a strange line of malevolent spirits sighted across the world, bringing misfortune to all that witness them? This book will intrigue young readers with long-forgotten lore about the headless spirits that have plagued mankind for centuries, and perhaps even now seek to invade our world.

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Excerpt this inquiry, in a tone that told of a vacillating spirit. "Do, uncle Woodley! What else but keep straight on? The river must be on the other side? If we don't hit the crossing, to a half mile or so, we can go up, or down the bank--as the case may require." "But, Cassius: if we should lose our way?" "We can't. There's but a patch of this, I suppose? If we do go a little astray, we must come out somewhere--on one side, or the other." "Well, nephew, you know best: I shall be guided by you." "No fear, uncle. I've made my way out of a worse fix than this. Drive on, niggers! Keep straight after me." The ex-officer of volunteers, casting a conceited glance towards the travelling carriage--through the curtains of which appears a fair face, slightly shadowed with anxiety--gives the spur to his horse; and with confident air trots onward. A chorus of whipcracks is succeeded by the trampling of fours