Frederic Edwin Church Twilight in the Wilderness painting

Frederic Edwin Church Twilight in the Wilderness paintingFrederic Edwin Church Landscape with Waterfall painting
you people, hear me! Do you hear me! Goddammit, I mean it! Shea, get those people moving out up there! You people better face it, you got eighteen more miles to go . . ." Culver tried to stop him, but they had already begun to run.
Panic-stricken, limping with blisters and with exhaustion, and in mutinous despair, the men fled westward, whipped on by Man-nix's cries. They pressed into the humid, sweltering light of the new day. Culver followed; O'Leary, without a murmur, puffed along beside him, while to the rear, with steady slogging footsteps, trailed the remnants of the battalion. Dust billowed up and preceded them, like Egypt's pillar of cloud, filling the air with its dry oppressive menace. It coated their lips and moist brows with white powdery grit, like a spray of plaster, and gave to the surrounding trees, the underbrush and vacant fields, a blighted pallor, as if touched by unseasonable frost. The sun rose higher, burning down at their backs so that each felt he bore on his shoulders not the burden of a pack but, almost worse, a portable oven growing hotter and hotter as the sun came up from behind the sheltering pines. They walked