Other editions of book The People of the Mist

Henry Rider was a British Victorian writer known for his adventure novels set is exotic places. His writings are sympathetic to the natives. He often portrayed Africans as heroic in his stories, even though the main characters are usually European. This "lost race" novel begins as an exciting African adventure. Leonard Outram is a British adventurer who is in Africa seeking his fortune. He becomes part of the rescue of a Portuguese woman from a large slave camp. Leonard, his companion Otter, and the girl set off and find the people of the mist. They then impersonate gods and priests with the hope of getting the people's hoard of jewels.

The January afternoon was passing into night, the air was cold and still, so still that not a single twig of the naked beech-trees stirred; on the grass of the meadows lay a thin white rime, half frost, half snow; the firs stood out blackly against a steel-hued sky, and over the tallest of them hung a single star. Past these bordering firs there ran a road, on which, in this evening of the opening of our story, a young man stood irresolute, glancing now to the right and now to the left.

Though best known for creating the series featuring the unforgettable adventurer Allan Quatermain, author Henry Rider Haggard's other action-adventure heroes are just as compelling and believable. The People of the Mist recounts explorer Leonard Outram's exploits in Africa. Haggard loyalists and other fans of the genre are sure to delight in this thrill-a-minute page-turner.

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: though not fast enough to obscure the light of the moon which shone through the belt of firs. Leonard walked on down the drive till he n eared the gate, when suddenly he heard the muffled sound of feet pursuing him through the snow. He turned with an exclamation, believing that the footsteps were those of Arthur Beach, for at the moment he was in no mood for further conversation with any male member of that family. As it chanced, however, he found himself face to face not with Arthur, but with Jane herself, who perhaps had never looked more beautiful than she did at this moment in the snow and the moonlight. Indeed, whenever Leonard thought of her in after-years, and that was often, there arose in his mind a vision of a tall and lovely girl, her auburn hair slightly powdered over with the falling flakes, her breast heaving with emotion, and her wide grey eyes gazing piteously upon him. Oh ! Leonard,' she said nervously, ' why do you go without saying good-bye to me ?' He looked at her a while before he answered, for something in his heart told him that this was the last sight which he should win of his love for many a year, and therefore his eyes dwelt upon her as we gaze upon one whom the grave is about to hide from us for ever. At last he spoke, and his words were practical enough. 'You should not have come out in those thin shoes through the snow, Jane. You will catch cold.' ' I wish I could,' she answered defiantly, ' I wish that I could catch such a cold as would kill me; then I should be out of my troubles. Let us go into the summer-house, they will never think of looking for me there.' 'How will you get there ? ' asked Leonard ; 'it is a hundred yards away, and the snow always drifts in that path.' ' Oh ! never mind the snow,' she said. But Leon...

Henry Rider was a British Victorian writer known for his adventure novels set is exotic places. His writings are sympathetic to the natives. He often portrayed Africans as heroic in his stories even though the main characters are usually European. This lost race novel begins as an exciting African adventure. Leonard Outram is a British adventurer who is in Africa seeking his fortune. He becomes part of the rescue of a Portuguese woman from a large slave camp. Leonard, his companion Otter and the girl set off and find the people of the mist. They then impersonate gods and priests with the hope of getting the people's hoard of jewels.

The People of the Mist CHAPTER I THE SINS OF THE FATHER ARE VISITED ON THE CHILDREN The January afternoon was passing into night, the air was cold and still, so still that not a single twig of the naked beech-trees stirred; on the grass of the meadows lay a thin white rime, half frost, half snow; the firs stood out blackly against a steel-hued sky, and over the tallest of them hung a single star. Past these bordering firs there ran a road, on which, in this evening of the opening of our story, a young man stood irresolute, glancing now to the right and now to the left. To his right were two stately gates of iron fantastically wrought, supported by stone pillars on whose summits stood griffins of black marble embracing coats of arms, and banners inscribed with the device _Per ardua ad astra_. Beyond these gates ran a broad carriage drive, lined on either side by a double row of such oaks as England alone can produce under the most favourable circumstances of soil, aided by the nurturing hand of man and three or four centuries of time. At the head of this avenue, perhaps half a mile from the roadway, although it looked nearer because of the eminence upon which it was placed, stood a mansion of the class that in auctioneers’ advertisements is usually described as “noble.” Its general appearance was Elizabethan, for in those days some forgotten Outram had practically rebuilt it; but a large part of its fabric was far more ancient than the Tudors, dating back, so said tradition, to the time of King John. As we are not auctioneers, however, it will be unnecessary to specify its many beauties; indeed, at this date, some of the tribe had recently employed their gift of language on these attractions with copious fulness and accuracy of detail, since Outr

Leonard Outram, a young Englishman who's just lost his fortune along with and his fiancee's hand, makes an oath: he'll win back his home and live happily ever after. Really! Well, sort of. Leonard ends up in Africa, which, at that point in history, was the place to win your fortune back for the gods of fate. (Take that, Vegas! Eat dirt, Monte Carlo! How now, Macau?!) Well, sort of. Leonard rescues a maid from a slave-dealer -- for a fee, of course! -- and then falls in love with her, complicating the heck out of his situation. Oh well: a great adventure ensues, taking them to places no one has ever heard of, then or now -- leading to narrow escapes, love, intrigue, and (of course) high adventure. Don't miss it!

The January afternoon was passing into night, the air was cold and still, so still that not a single twig of the naked beech-trees stirred; on the grass of the meadows lay a thin white rime, half frost, half snow; the firs stood out blackly against a steel-hued sky, and over the tallest of them hung a single star. Past these bordering firs there ran a road, on which, in this evening of the opening of our story, a young man stood irresolute, glancing now to the right and now to the left. To his right were two stately gates of iron fantastically wrought, supported by stone pillars on whose summits stood griffins of black marble embracing coats of arms, and banners inscribed with the device Per ardua ad astra. Beyond these gates ran a broad carriage drive, lined on either side by a double row of such oaks as England alone can produce under the most favourable circumstances of soil, aided by the nurturing hand of man and three or four centuries of time.