A FACE haunted Cameron-a woman's face. It was there in the white heart of the dying campfire; it hung in the shadows that hovered over the flickering light; it drifted in the darkness beyond. This hour, when the day had closed and the lonely desert night set in with its dead silence, was one in which Cameron's mind was thronged with memories of a time long past-of a home back in Peoria, of a woman he had wronged and lost, and loved too late. He was a prospector for gold, a hunter of solitude, a lover of the drear, rock ...
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A FACE haunted Cameron-a woman's face. It was there in the white heart of the dying campfire; it hung in the shadows that hovered over the flickering light; it drifted in the darkness beyond. This hour, when the day had closed and the lonely desert night set in with its dead silence, was one in which Cameron's mind was thronged with memories of a time long past-of a home back in Peoria, of a woman he had wronged and lost, and loved too late. He was a prospector for gold, a hunter of solitude, a lover of the drear, rock-ribbed infinitude, because he wanted to be alone to remember. A sound disturbed Cameron's reflections. He bent his head listening. A soft wind fanned the paling embers, blew sparks and white ashes and thin smoke away into the enshrouding circle of blackness. His burro did not appear to be moving about. The quiet split to the cry of a coyote. It rose strange, wild, mournful-not the howl of a prowling upland beast baying the campfire or barking at a lonely prospector, but the wail of a wolf, full-voiced, crying out the meaning of the desert and the night. Hunger throbbed in it-hunger for a mate, for offspring, for life. When it ceased, the terrible desert silence smote Cameron, and the cry echoed in his soul. He and that wandering wolf were brothers. Then a sharp clink of metal on stone and soft pads of hoofs in sand prompted Cameron to reach for his gun, and to move out of the light of the waning campfire. He was somewhere along the wild border line between Sonora and Arizona; and the prospector who dared the heat and barrenness of that region risked other dangers sometimes as menacing. Figures darker than the gloom approached and took shape, and in the light turned out to be those of a white man and a heavily packed burro. - Taken from "Desert Gold" written by Zane Grey
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I'll admit: The first time I started to read this book I only got as far as the prologue, and I quit. This was 40 years ago. Instead, I picked up another Zane Grey book and read it. Then I came back to this one. Boy or boy what I could have missed! by not reading this one! Once you get past the slow and dry prologue, the book takes off like a bullet and never slows down. The hero, Dick Gale, a transplanted easterner, soon finds himself engaged in the border war between the US and Mexico. Set in contemporary times, at least when it was written, it detailed the troubles along the border at that time--events appearing in the newspapers on a daily basis. Along the way, you will meet one of ZG's greatest Indian heroes, Yaqui, and one of his vilest of villains, the Mexican Rojas. And the fight scene between the two is more than a classic; it's one never to be forgotten, nor repeated by any writer at any time. There is a secret which must be revealed as well, which affects the life of Nell Belding, and her relationship with Dick. For sheer excitement and romance and history, buy this book for yourself and have an enjoyable time getting lost in Zane Grey's West.