The Last Frontier
“The carriage wheels, transmitting a teeth-rattling vibration through a suspension that had long since given up an unequal battle with die years, screeched and grated in a shrilly metallic cacophony as they jarred and leapt across the uneven intersection of the rails. The wind and the snow whistled icily through a hundred cracks in ill-made doors and windows, the wooden coachwork and seats creaked and protested like a ship working in a heavy seaway, but the ancient train battered on steadily thr...ough the white blindness of that late afternoon in mid-winter, sometimes slowing down unexpectedly on a straight stretch of track, at other times increasing speed round seemingly dangerous curves: the driver, one hand almost constantly on the steam whistle that Whispered and died to a muffled extinction only a hundred yards away in the driving snow, was a man, obviously, with complete confidence in himself, the capacities of his train and his knowledge of the track ahead.Reynolds, lurching and staggering down the wildly swaying length of a coach corridor, shared none of the engine driver's obvious confidence, not in the safety of the train, which was the least of Reynolds' worries, but in his own capacity to carry out the task that lay ahead of him.MoreLess
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