More Friday Freebits from Tricia McGill
Mystic
Mountains is a story of courage and persistence-traits that were essential for
the settlers who carved out a new life in a raw land where suffering and
heartbreak were commonplace.
~~
My six paragraphs are taken this week from
Mystic Mountains-Book 1 in my Settlers series
Book 2 Distant Mountains coming soon from Books We Love.
In this segment our settlers are crossing the Blue Mountains west of Sydney. In the early days it was a treacherous route and some travelers lost their lives in their search for greener pastures.
Then they came
to Mount York.
Everybody knew
its reputation and had been speaking of it in awed whispers over the previous
evening's meal. A brooding quiet now crept over them as Tiger brought Satan up
and handed Tim, who'd been riding with him, over to Isabella.
Johnny grimaced,
scratching at his head, as Tiger rode off to speak to the driver of the leading
wagon. The valley coming up to what was commonly called The Big Hill was awful,
the road hidden from view amid the trees.
Small trees had
to be lopped to wedge behind the wheels of the drays and wagons to stop them
slipping backwards. It was grueling work. When they got to the top they had to
reverse the order, chaining logs behind to stop them from sliding forwards.
"The
other slopes were nothing compared to this," Isabella whispered, a hand to
her throat, as she, Thelma and Agnes stared wide-eyed and fearful at the steep
drop before them. The animals that had already been taken over couldn't be seen
at the bottom, about a mile away.
"Tiger says
we're about four thousand feet above the sea." Thelma was having trouble
drawing each breath and her face was so grey it scared Isabella as much as the
road they must descend.
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Please leave a comment if you can.
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Great six, Tricia. Love the premise of the story. Wish I had much more time for reading, but I'm working on two WIPs that need to get finished. Yikes!
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteYou show how difficult travel across alien continents could be, Tricia. I don't even like to look down a steep ski slope when I can see a curve in the hill below me but not where the rest of the hill goes. I can't imagine that while guiding a hulking, heavy wagon.
ReplyDeleteHi Tricia,
ReplyDeleteGreat snippet.
Regards
Margaret