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Mountain Man
Mountain Man
Mountain Man
Ebook28 pages34 minutes

Mountain Man

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Robert Ervin Howard was an American pulp writer of fantasy, horror, historical adventure, boxing, western, and detective fiction. Howard wrote "over three-hundred stories and seven-hundred poems of raw power and unbridled emotion" and is especially noted for his memorable depictions of "a sombre universe of swashbuckling adventure and darkling horror."
A humorous short story by a great writer. This is one of the best Robert E. Howard stories. It's the first in his western series starring Breckenridge Elkins. Breckenridge has to leave his mountain homeland for town to fetch a letter for his dad. Sounds easy enough, but turns out to be anything but easy.  
LanguageEnglish
Release dateSep 15, 2022
ISBN9780880039062
Mountain Man
Author

Robert E. Howard

Robert E. Howard (1906–1936) was an American author of pulp fiction, who made a name for himself by publishing numerous short stories in pulp magazines. Known as the “Father of Sword and Sorcery,” Howard helped create this subgenre of fiction. He is best known for his character Conan the Barbarian, who has inspired numerous film and television adaptations. Howard committed suicide at the age of thirty.  

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    Mountain Man - Robert E. Howard

    Robert E. Howard

    Mountain Man

    I was robbing a bee tree, when I heard my old man calling: Breckinridge! Oh, Breckinridge! Where air you? I see you now. You don't need to climb that tree. I ain't goin' to larrup you.

    He come up, and said: Breckinridge, ain't that a bee settin' on yore ear?

    I reached up, and sure enough, it was. Come to think about it, I had felt kind of like something was stinging me somewhere.

    I swar, Breckinridge, said pap, I never seen a hide like your'n. Listen to me: old Buffalo Rogers is back from Tomahawk, and the postmaster there said they was a letter for me, from Mississippi. He wouldn't give it to nobody but me or some of my folks. I dunno who'd be writin' me from Mississippi; last time I was there, was when I was fightin' the Yankees. But anyway, that letter is got to be got. Me and yore maw has decided you're to go git it. Yuh hear me, Breckinridge?

    Clean to Tomahawk? I said. Gee whiz, pap!

    Well, he said, combing his beard with his fingers, yo're growed in size, if not in years. It's time you seen somethin' of the world. You ain't never been more'n thirty miles away from the cabin you was born in. Yore brother John ain't able to go on account of that ba'r he tangled with, and Bill is busy skinnin' the ba'r. You been to whar the trail passes, goin' to Tomahawk. All you got to do is foller it and turn to the right where it forks. The left goes on to Perdition.

    Well, I was all eager to see the world, and the next morning I was off, dressed in new buckskins and riding

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